<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754</id><updated>2012-02-16T11:24:26.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun</title><subtitle type='html'>Because sometimes you just need to vent without being judged...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2816342856979008452</id><published>2010-01-21T01:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T01:25:33.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crisis In Progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Forgive me, Blogspot, for I have sinned. It has been about 6 or 7 months since my last confession.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be 26 in a couple of days.&lt;em&gt; I want death for my birthday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know how to go about writing these things anymore. I'm sitting in the dark with PennyLane, listening to some bullshit on tv. Nothing makes me happy anymore. I hate the feeling of being stuck. I hate feeling like I've settled for average. Average is not, and never will be ok with me. I know I was made for greatness. It is just so hard to fight my laziness. I am a procrastinator by design. How and why do I always end up in these funks? Why is the world never enough for me? I think even if I were to get everything I ever wanted and accomplished everything I set out to do, I still wouldn't be happy. Could it be some of us are just hardwired wrong? If so, that's me. I'm wrong... just all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm done now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2816342856979008452?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2816342856979008452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2816342856979008452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2010/01/crisis-in-progress.html' title='Crisis In Progress'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-1065198189878757945</id><published>2009-06-09T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T15:54:39.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This isn't about a boy... it's about ALL boys! (thats my line, dont steal it!)</title><content type='html'>So going through some old notebooks the other day, I stumbled across one that I used for writing down thoughts, short stories, and lines I thought I'd make into a song one day. OK, so pretty much this was a notebook of future songs hahaha... I've always been a wishful thinker! So reading over some of the "songs" brought a smile to my face! Why? Not because they were happy or anything, but because they're pretty good! I'd totally listen to those songs haha. One thing I noticed though, FUCK are some things depressing! Guess it just reflects the state of mind I was in while I was still in the writing habit. I would've totally been in an emo band or something... hmm... there's still time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Bunch is gonna be a movie star! Okokokok, not necessarily, but he does have a small cameo in a documentary! Google that shit: "We Believe." He'll be the drunkard LMAO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well gotsta go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh ps, Friday we get to go to the RED CARPET PREMIER!! Holla!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-1065198189878757945?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1065198189878757945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1065198189878757945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-isnt-about-boy-its-about-all-boys.html' title='This isn&apos;t about a boy... it&apos;s about ALL boys! (thats my line, dont steal it!)'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2320818904438387450</id><published>2009-05-19T07:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T07:56:09.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and you kissed me like you meant it...</title><content type='html'>...and I knew, that you meant it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you kiss me every forever, hold me till the sun comes up, and love me until our hearts stop beating? When we're both no longer here, will you search for me in the afterlife so we can spend eternity together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a terrible cold and an obnoxious earache. Fuck. I'm crabby as hell and everything makes me either mad or want to cry. I am a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2320818904438387450?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2320818904438387450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2320818904438387450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-you-kissed-me-like-you-meant-it.html' title='and you kissed me like you meant it...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-6734936591757271173</id><published>2009-05-08T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T13:39:54.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>woof.</title><content type='html'>I really can't stand people with no loyalties. I mean, those people who, on the surface, seem to always be there for you or have your back, but when it comes to little things, they always seem to show their true colors. Yes, I'm different. Yes, I spend a lot of time with my boyfriends. Yes, I have a lot of shit going on right now. That doesn't mean that once I get my shit back together and can chill and be carefree for awhile that I won't want the true one's to still be there waiting for me. I just don't think there is any such thing. Every one always has there own agenda. I may not be the best of friends as in always going out and such anymore, but I'm definitely the one to call when you need a problem solved, someone taken care of, or a shoulder to cry on. All I ask is the same in return. Loyalty. Maybe I should just get another dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-6734936591757271173?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6734936591757271173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6734936591757271173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/05/woof.html' title='woof.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-536563929583034690</id><published>2009-05-01T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T08:11:15.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, the things one can find on CL!</title><content type='html'>So as usual, I get to work and immediately go on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; and pretty much bullshit my way to 11:30 am or so (before I start trying to do actual work) . One of my favorite stops on the information super highway is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;. As I ravaged through the "Rants and Raves" section for Bulls postings as well as for whiny, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cocksucking&lt;/span&gt; Boston &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sucktics&lt;/span&gt; fans postings, I came across one who's title reeled me in. It was called "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Soulmate&lt;/span&gt;? Not for me thank you." I absolutely loved it! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;HAHA&lt;/span&gt; just so happens he linked his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;blogspot&lt;/span&gt;. I will become a follower shortly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;HAHA&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one last thing I need to mention before I stop writing (for now) is about how fucking pissed off I am about my work &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;cafeteria&lt;/span&gt; shutting down at 9:15 am. I don't start work until 9:30 you fucking cunts! You seriously think I want to get here 15-30 minutes early just so I can partake in a delicious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;omelet&lt;/span&gt;??? I love those &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;omelets&lt;/span&gt; but on principal I can not and will not bend to conform to you. Get your shit together assholes. I'd been getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;omelets&lt;/span&gt; for about 2 years now at 9:35 and now you want to go and change it up on me? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Absofuckinglutely&lt;/span&gt; ridiculous. I will definitely be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;writing&lt;/span&gt; you an angry letter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-536563929583034690?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/536563929583034690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/536563929583034690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/05/ah-things-one-can-find-on-cl.html' title='Ah, the things one can find on CL!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8567425599387716651</id><published>2009-04-30T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T07:54:42.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss being young...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I've said it once and I'll say it again: There's just not enough making-out happening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Give me kisses. Lots! and Lots! of kisses. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Just make out with me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;That's all I ever want, more than anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;//♥//&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8567425599387716651?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8567425599387716651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8567425599387716651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-miss-being-young.html' title='I miss being young...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2605389349156413081</id><published>2009-04-23T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T11:34:08.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I only want to be part of your breakdown...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So much going on, so much to say, so much has happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason I hadn't been much in the mood to blog my thoughts away as I sometimes am. Thanks to my prima sending me a Facebook wake up call, I decided to suck it up and write a little... or a lot HAHA. I have a feeling all my thoughts are gonna be so scattered so I'll try writing a paragraph for each different topic. Hope you can keep up with my life!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Bunch: I fall more and more in love with this man with every second. Every kiss lifts me closer up to heaven. If I never believed in soul mates before, he definitely converted me! He finally got auto-tune so now that's consuming him LOL. He rerecorded his dance song yesterday and premiered it for me and some friends at my house. It was fucking awesome. He's been trying to recover from a devastating Bulls loss. It was like sooo 3 days ago, but it cut him... it cut him deep, man. He wants Sundays play-off game tickets. Someone get him some!! He took me to a Cubs game. I'm not even a Cub fan, but I'd do anything to make him happy. In conclusion, I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327956007945291266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SfCzwrB8xgI/AAAAAAAAACo/GqqNQnaHbXY/s200/3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327955845278769298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SfCznNDOoJI/AAAAAAAAACg/hNO0_bflAag/s200/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*School: I started school last Saturday. It was a long and grueling day. School is only on Saturdays and it is from 9 a.m to 4 p.m. LONG. FUCKIN. DAY. I need to get through this. I need to keep focused and keep myself from partying on Fridays. That's gonna be the hardest part!!! Ugh!! And waking up that early (I have an hour train commute so do the math) is already killing me!! Since the class is so long, we can't even miss one day cause we would miss massive quantities of information. This is definitely gonna be a challenge. *get through this Tink!* I am, contrary to what it might seem, pretty excited about this. It's something new. I pray this all works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Fitness: I ran on the treadmill once. I meant well. I was gonna really get into it and go balls to the wall exercising and get fit. My treadmill had other plans. 50 minutes into my run the motor burnt out. No more treadmill. Great, now I'll never be skinny. Fuck me. Need to get a new plan of action... I'm pretty sure it doesn't/ shouldn't involve the pizza and cheeseburger I ate yesterday. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Friends: I miss having a lot of friends. Having diversity. Although, I'm quite different from all my friends. I take pride in it. Sometimes, though, I need someone like me. Hmm... So Jeska, I referred to her in a previous post, has definitely become someone I can get down with. She went to the Death Cab For Cutie concert with me and we had a BLAST! DCFC was sooo intense. It was incredible. There's some drama that came out of this new found friendship, but I'll get into that under a different topic. One of my BFFFs, Luis, will be coming to Chicago soon... let the alcohol poisoning begin!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Family: My mom has been getting on my nerves more and more with each passing day. Sometimes she doesn't even have to speak and I want to run for the hills. I need an apartment. This shit is serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Work: I just want it to be over already. I want to know if I'm gonna get unemployment for sure though. I fuckin deserve it, like for real. Anyone have info on the qualifying factors to getting unemployment? Shoot em my way, please. Also, Facebook and Twitter are now blocked on my computers here at work. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW!?!?!? They hate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Drama: So here's the big one. Apparently, as a result of Jeska being friends with me, there's been mad hateration. She uploaded a pic of me and her at the Death Cab concert and immediately got two replies from a "R" and an "A." Both these people of course are in cahoots with Bunchs' ex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[background info: Bunch was dating "N" for about 6 years. Her brother is "R," her BFF is "A." Jeska is mutual friends with both Bunch and "N"]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So "R" wrote some nonsense about how Jeska is no longer his little [fill in nickname here]. Ya, lame sauce. I know. "A" simply wrote, "wow." Just when you thought it couldn't get any lamer, there it is. So all I'm saying is that if you have such a problem with her talking to me say it to her face. Or how bout this? How about everyone grow the fuck up and live their own mother effin lives? On the real though. If they didn't like the pic, move the fuck on. Better yet, when you saw the possibility of who was in the picture, don't fuckin look at it. How old are these people? 12? Are we back in elementary school where "If you're her friend you can't be my friend" still rules the playground? Sorry, I don't have time for the immature bullshit. I have grown up problems. I have big girl issues. I'm sorry YOU expected everyone to hate me just cause I'm with Bunch now. It clearly doesn't work that way. Get the fuck over it and let people judge for themselves. Same goes for those that are judging me and Jeska purely because of where their allegiance is. Don't talk shit about something you aren't truly a part of. A couple good things came out of this situation: 1) We know people stalk our shit and talk about us. I've always been quite popular, thanks for keeping me like that. 2) I've definitely developed a true respect for Jeska. She responded to the pic comments by saying something along the lines of, "It's my life I do what I want. I don't hate on what the fuck you do." Point is, she was so pissed off about this nonsense. I definitely need people like that in my life. I'm glad I got to see how cool she is. I like 'take no shit, I do my own thing regardless of what you have to say' people. We're gonna have a whole photo shoot soon. We'll have plenty of pics for CERTAIN people to hate on. Take that you fuckin haters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that just about sums up what's been going on since i've been AWOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that I'm my own person. I love that I don't give a fuck what anyone has to say about me. I love that I'm not like most the petty bitches out there. No one can hold me down, no one can hold me back. These bitches will never be on my level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2605389349156413081?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2605389349156413081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2605389349156413081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-only-want-to-be-part-of-your.html' title='I only want to be part of your breakdown...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SfCzwrB8xgI/AAAAAAAAACo/GqqNQnaHbXY/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-1273451125542051066</id><published>2009-04-09T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T08:20:38.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought that I was doin' well but I just want to cry now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Who am I to dream? Dreams are for fools,they let you down."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are just far too many things wrong with me that it wouldn't fair to sit here and try to write them out. There are definitely some deep rooted issues here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome jam session in Erick's car last night. Stayed at the bar till 4 a.m then continued the party outside of my house in his little ass Eclipse. Fist pumps and techno clapping. Hardcore. Awesomeness. We rule. You'll never meet another hip hop rocker like me! Not to talk myself up or anything, but I throw down. HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm paying for all the perfection of last night/ this morning RIGHT NOW. I'm stuck here at work. I lost my voice. I feel sick to my stomach. Blah. SOOOOO fucking worth it though. Tonight, Bourbon Street. Gotta get my 80's hair band fix! w00t!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might leave work early. Gotta get home and take a nap lmao!! Don't judge me!! I need to be well rested for tonight! Especially since its back to work tomorrow morning! So I need all the sleep I can get!! Fuck off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiight, son. Gotta do work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;"Well I know that it's a wonderful but I can't feel it right now."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-1273451125542051066?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1273451125542051066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1273451125542051066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-thought-that-i-was-doin-well-but-i.html' title='I thought that I was doin&apos; well but I just want to cry now.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4791010396469049109</id><published>2009-04-07T14:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T14:18:25.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, helicopter... Are you listening?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"It's kill or be killed and one day we'll get the best of them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can fuck with my head the way I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm bipolar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[God Speed]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4791010396469049109?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4791010396469049109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4791010396469049109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/hello-helicopter-are-you-listening.html' title='Hello, helicopter... Are you listening?'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-3786447065274420968</id><published>2009-04-07T13:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T13:19:35.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, some things hit too close to home.</title><content type='html'>James Morrison: The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"Well it's time to surrender, it's too long pretending. It's no use in trying when the pieces don't fit anymore."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did you need to put my heart out there like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like it's been awhile since a song has conjured up these emotions. Then again, maybe not... I'm so sensitive to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading the Twilight series is really fucking with my head. I wish there was a real Edward. A real person that could understand the dept and intensity my heart contains. Someone who understands and feels the same way when I say that I could live in their eyes forever. Survive off of their kisses. Stay forever in their warm embrace. When tears fill my eyes because I know that no words can ever do justice, the true raw emotions i feel. Unreal. Sometimes my heart feels unreal. Misunderstood. Taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...but I can't explain why it's not enough, cause i gave it all to you. And if you leave me now, oh just leave me now, it's the better thing to do."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-3786447065274420968?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3786447065274420968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3786447065274420968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/sometimes-some-things-hit-too-close-to.html' title='Sometimes, some things hit too close to home.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2425491590945368926</id><published>2009-04-03T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T08:58:48.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I suck at life.</title><content type='html'>I tried dying my hair the way I saw it in my vision.&lt;br /&gt;I failed miserably.&lt;br /&gt;Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trial 2 today after work.&lt;br /&gt;Hope I don't butcher it more than I already have... and no, "butcher" is NOT over exaggerating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck, me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♪ Peace ♪&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2425491590945368926?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2425491590945368926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2425491590945368926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-suck-at-life.html' title='I suck at life.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2634608736740164669</id><published>2009-04-02T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T08:54:07.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This charming month =]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy 10 month anniversary Bunches. I Love You!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I'm going to see Morrissey on Saturday =D and I'm also going to see New Found Glory and Bayside on the 25th!!! I'm so very excite. I feel like I haven't been to a concert in FOREVER!! Still need to buy Dane Cook tickets though... can't snooze on that! That's a lot of money I don't have hahaha!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting addicted to the Twilight series. Well, I'm barely getting through the first book. It's hard to read through it fast cause I've already seen the movie so I'm kinda blah about it. BUT there are quite a bit of differences. I just want to be on the next book already!! The best thing about the book so far is how easily sucked in you are by Edward (sucked in.. haha, get it? Vampires... no? whatev) He's so perfect. He is the epitomy of what all girls believe to be the perfect man. He's respectful, mysterious, a little bit dangerous, sexy as ALL HELL, and completely consumed by her. The way he doesn't even glimpse at another person (mainly another girl) when he's with Bella is something that no guy I've ever met has the ability to do. It's like heaven reading the description of a person that I've strived to find. SOOO good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ps. I would DEFINITELY consider Bunch to be my Edward. I swoon over him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get in to school already. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got the treadmill in the house again. Time to do work, son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to actually do some work today. Like actual work that I'm getting paid to do HAHA! So ya, lemme go do that. Maybe I'll write more later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;****************************** EDIT *******************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Three years ago yesterday was the first time I met the man I'd want to spend the rest of my life with, I just didn't know it yet. Weird how life works out sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I love you B. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Always and Forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;[♥]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2634608736740164669?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2634608736740164669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2634608736740164669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-charming-month.html' title='This charming month =]'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-5666428807959293882</id><published>2009-03-31T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T13:36:54.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My plee to Jason Schwartzman: Take me with you back to the west coast!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if famous people sit and like google themselves. I also wonder if this blog would come up in a Jason Schwartman google (or any kind of) search. That would be kinda cool... well just in case: Jason, if you are reading this, take me with you!! Or at least come play in Chicago so I can lively up!! Then again, I'd probably have no one to go with. People just don't know the greatness in your simplicity! Truth be told, I'd go alone, no problem. OR! If you'd like to fly me to California where I have a cousin who is equally consumed by your voice and play a show there it would be all that better!!! HAHAHA... aaah... who am I kidding... I can dream can't I? I almost got lost in my imagination while writing this as I all too often do. Here's how my thought process went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Jason S.man replies to this blog) "I very much enjoy reading your blog! I've decided to fly you to California to help me write some songs and such"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(me) Oh I could'nt! I need to find a job and go back to school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(JS) Nonsense! I'll teach you everything about being a record producer! Remember, it's not WHAT you know but WHO you know! And I can help you get there! Please come?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(me) Can you promise I'll make awesome music and get rich enough to where money isn't stressing me out like it is right now??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(JS) I can promise I'll do everything I can to get you where you belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(me) I can't leave my Bunch, though!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(JS) Bring him with you!! I'll set him up in a studio, he'll have every resource he needs to get his album out and be the rockstar I see in him! (This is of course after JS has come to Chicago to scout me and of course I shamelessly plug BHo HAHAHA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(me) DEAL!! Let's do this!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I have major issues!! HAHAHA I don't have any idea how my brain can go on such tangents!!! Then sometimes when I come out of these completely made up scenarios I would swear up and down to you that they were real!!! I def have psych issues. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREAT! Now if Jason Schwartzman were to ever actually read this he'd be creeped out by me. I can't effin win. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I'm here at work listening to my moms usual rants and raves and suspicions (she's got a lot of all of these) and I start thinking of how petty I think she is sometimes. I know, I know, it's a terrible thing to say.. but to spend most of your work day trying to figure out how your coworkers are conspiring against you seems 1) ridiculous and 2) a waste of time! I just don't know sometimes... she's an odd one. And that's coming from the poster child of mental health issues herself!!! HAHA!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mama by Coconut Records just came on my iPod. I love her voice.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bf is neglecting me right now. Damn him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want some orange chicken from ChiTung.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Need to get back on the ball with this losing weight situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to find out about this unemployment bs and whether going to school is gonna screw it up. Fuck this government. Seriously, though, fuck it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunch got us (his parents, me, and him) tickets to go see Morrissey. AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any other news? I got my Coconut Records tote bag. I love it. I feel like sunshine everytime I use it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's all. I'll close this entry off with some pics =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okbyeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;                                                                 Beautiful is so noble&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;                                                                  Krystal goes "quack"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;         I got home and found her like this, she's shameless. She didn't even move a little for me.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;                                                                UGLY! But I love her!&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;                          I needed to take a pic in the only glimpse of sun I've seen in months =[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/just%20me/9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;                     &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; Last not least.. me and Krystal spend FAAAAR too much time together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 480px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 640px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/just%20me/4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-5666428807959293882?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5666428807959293882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5666428807959293882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-plee-to-jason-schwartzman-take-me.html' title='My plee to Jason Schwartzman: Take me with you back to the west coast!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/th_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8774666434008896674</id><published>2009-03-31T09:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T09:14:49.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late at night when all the world is sleeping...</title><content type='html'>So today is the 14 year anniversary of Selena's death. So tragic. I loved her with a passion. I still do. To me, she is timeless. RIP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the last payment towards my last remaining credit card a little bit ago. It felt good. It felt REAL good! Man it hurt to make the payment cause I decided to just pay the whole remaining balance of $400, but I needed to. I'll be jobless soon. Might as well take care of this while I still have a check coming in. I also paid my phone bill (a $90 fuckin bill!) while I was at it. Needless to say I'm broke as fuck and no longer have a saving HAHA!! But not having to worry about those credit cards is gonna come in real handy after I apply for this school loan today. Still not quite sure how I'm gonna make this phone bill every month, but I guess I'll figure it out as I go along. If unemployment comes through like I'm desperately praying for it to, then I'll be set. That will probably be a super small check since I've been part time for awhile now, but it's something. Enough to keep me afloat. So please God? PLEEEEEASE???? 0=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're about to have a meeting. Maybe I'll write some more later... maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. Me and B are going to California for our 1 year anniversary!!! omgomgomg it's gonna be incredible. I can feel it. Broke or not, we'll get there!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[holla]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8774666434008896674?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8774666434008896674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8774666434008896674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/late-at-night-when-all-world-is.html' title='Late at night when all the world is sleeping...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4147532185413007433</id><published>2009-03-29T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T13:04:20.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I refuse to be the goodie bag at your pity party!</title><content type='html'>So I get up to let Beautiful out at around 7 am... half asleep, no glasses on... and what is waiting for me on the otherside of the door??! SNOW!!! Fuckin snow!!!!! I was instantly emo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least the sun is shining now. It's so bright... and the way it reflects off the snow makes it luminescent. It is rather gorgeous. It's radiating hope. Guess my day still has a chance to get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;[hope]&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4147532185413007433?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4147532185413007433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4147532185413007433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-refuse-to-be-goodie-bag-at-your-pity.html' title='I refuse to be the goodie bag at your pity party!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-5820993010805614008</id><published>2009-03-29T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T00:35:50.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm yours...</title><content type='html'>No matter what bullshit arguments we have. I'm yours. Now and forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life just won't go easy on me sometimes... give me a break, please... just a small one? I think I've earned it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-5820993010805614008?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5820993010805614008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5820993010805614008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-yours.html' title='I&apos;m yours...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-6887659332680508603</id><published>2009-03-26T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T14:29:06.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let her sing... if it eases all her pain</title><content type='html'>So I've been very anti sharing my little emotional conundrums with the blogspot world... somehow it's so easy for me to ramble on and on about how in love I am but for some reason I can't bring myself to actually put it all out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, right now I'm scared to death. I'm scared of where my life's path is taking me, I'm scared that I will never find my way. Sure I was all happy go lucky thinking about enjoying unemployment, but then you come down from that initial shock that makes you go into defense mode and all that's left is reality. I'm broke. I haven't figured out how to go about realizing my dreams... I'm so stuck. I feel so insecure. I feel walls closing in on me. Every second that I don't occupy myself I find myself on the verge of tears. This is no way to live. I slacked off for too fucking long and now look where I'm at. I'm walking the line bordering misery and laziness. As proactive as I want to try and be, I'm still a procrastinator at heart. I've been so unmotivated. What the fuck is it gonna take? Huh? Answer to yourself for a change! Get the fuck out there and do something. Anything at this point! Just move forward! Record producer seems unrealistic right now. I'd need to fulfill internships. I also need to have enough saved money to live off of while I do said internships. FML!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunch is really scared that all my depression is gonna take it's toll on our relationship. I told him honestly, it probably will. I hope he'll see me through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange things are happening. He who shall not be named texted me out of nowhere yesterday. I tell ya, when it rains it POURS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a new Coach purse. I need retail therapy. I need to wake up tomorrow and be rich. I'm too needy. Really though.. I require far too much attention. I don't know how B puts up with me. Bless his giant heart!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made new friends... well kinda. Umm, Bunch's friend Jeska. She's pretty cool. Also, Jess, Dave's baby momma, she's growing on me haha. Kaz is back out of nowhere. One friend I did NOT make? His gf. What A Fucking Cunt. She hates life. She's gotta. Cause seriously? Her reasoning behind hating me is unnecessary! Whatever, I'm over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to Bourbon St. tonight. I need this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Peace]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-6887659332680508603?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6887659332680508603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6887659332680508603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/let-her-sing-if-it-eases-all-her-pain.html' title='Let her sing... if it eases all her pain'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-7651584944249919736</id><published>2009-03-24T14:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T14:54:25.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I WANT TO BE A RECORD PRODUCER!!!! NOW!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b357/xxroughxdraftx/record.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b357/xxroughxdraftx/record.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it turns out I wasn't much in the mood for writing about my previous thoughts. Oh well...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's almost punch-out time. FINALLY! This day dragged ass...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I slept so shitty last night. The whole time it felt like I was in some sort of half sleep. Like physically I was asleep, but my brain never relaxed. Something's wrong with me. I can't even take a nap cause we're goin to the movies tonight to see &lt;em&gt;I Love You, Man.&lt;/em&gt; Should be good times though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I like really really want to own a record label... or at least produce music. I don't know where to start. Plus I feel like I've wasted so much time.. like I should've made this decision years ago. I don't know why I didn't. Probably cause I was so monetarily driven. I wanted something fast and stable. That's gone now. Time to make my dreams come true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone help me get there!!! Give me ideas! Anything!!! I'm sooooo fucking lost!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I listened to Blink 182 all day today. Not for any reason in particular. I put my iPod on shuffle and a Blink song was the 1st to play... so I went with it. I think it was a good decision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estimated last day of work is June 26th. [sigh]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'm gonna put my head down for a while... SHHHH!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Word to yo motha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-7651584944249919736?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7651584944249919736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7651584944249919736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-want-to-be-record-producer-now.html' title='I WANT TO BE A RECORD PRODUCER!!!! NOW!!!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-647978918662824790</id><published>2009-03-22T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T22:45:36.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>coming soon...</title><content type='html'>So I've got all these ideas but not enough patience to sit and write them out properly via my cell phone. Which is why I usually blog from work hahaha... anyways, I just need to write out some basic things that I want to elaborate on, on Tuesday at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What do you do when you feel like you're changing but everyone around you isn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I know getting comfortable in a relationship is inevitable, but what about when you get TOO comfortable... what then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I love cheesy things like glimmers and sparks in our eyes. Why does it have to fade. Can we get that back please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My mom said something super ignorant the other day. I felt like back-handing her. Cunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... til Tuesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Byeeeeeeeee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-647978918662824790?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/647978918662824790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/647978918662824790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/coming-soon.html' title='coming soon...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8856709264059411244</id><published>2009-03-21T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T22:13:42.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This just in:</title><content type='html'>The Bulls hate me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::tear::&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8856709264059411244?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8856709264059411244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8856709264059411244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-just-in.html' title='This just in:'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8444585617279836045</id><published>2009-03-21T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T18:30:35.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and now, YOUR Chicago Bulls!!!</title><content type='html'>Watching the Bulls game vs. the Lakers with Bunch n Bri. Good fuckin game so far. Keep it up Bulls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm doing a hell of a lot better with certain girls. I hadn't mentioned it before but I've been a bit standofish with a couple females. Anyhow, point is I've realized its time to grow up. You know those girls that claim they only get along with guys and can't have any gfs? Well I don't like them. If you can't get along with other females then there is something wrong with YOU. Drop your pettiness and hateration and expand your horizons. I, quite frankly, want more gfs. So ya, grow the fuck up all you immature girls that can't get along with other girls. You're making us look bad. Only jealousy and stupidity is keeping you from making friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Gotta keep cheering on my Bulls, baybee!! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8444585617279836045?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8444585617279836045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8444585617279836045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-now-your-chicago-bulls.html' title='and now, YOUR Chicago Bulls!!!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-7291424864173008095</id><published>2009-03-19T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T08:12:34.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just like a star across my sky...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;You've got this look I can't describe, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;You make me feel I'm alive, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;When everything else is so au fait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Without a doubt you're on my side, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Heaven has been away too long, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Can't find the words to write this song of your love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So this morning on the drive to work, I remembered something that had been swirling through my head. I didn't think of this last night for some reason when I was writing my random blog. Anyways, here it goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could put all the money I have towards helping B get closer to making his dreams come true, I would. I'd give up everything. If I didn't have any of these damn bills to pay, I'd gladly donate all my money to his cause. Everytime I watch him look up some piece of equiptment or something related to his music, I just wanna throw my credit card at him. It's so unfair how much things cost and how hard it is to come up in this world. He's just a man with a dream. And I'm a girl with a passion to help him in any way he needs. I'm so sure of his abilities. I want this for him so bad! He deserves the world. I'd follow him into the dark, but I wish there was more I could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love his music. I really do. I love the look on his face while he's playing. His voice makes me melt. Now I don't just say this cause he's my bf... any girl can be a groupie for her boyfriend, but to want to be a part of it and give (or give up) whatever's necessary... well that's a different story. That's where I'm at. I don't think I even want something for myself as bad as I want this for him. Not to mention his songs are incredible. Also, the fact that his sound is so eclectic and he incorporates so many genres and styles is so awesome to me! I've never been one to conform to one type of music. I can't do it. I won't! He gets that, and I dig it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know who I think the epitomy of music is right now? Kanye West. I love that guy. What really set it off was hearing "Heartless" on the radio last night. Not just any radio station, it was on The Mix. This is the same station that cuts rap parts of of songs. So now he's made it onto all the top 40 radio stations, the urban stations, the rock stations, and now the easy listening type stations! He's everywhere! He's been able to appeal to all people somehow! I LOVE THAT! He won't be pigeonheld and that is what gives longevity. I wanna sing with him one day. On auto-tune of course HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closing thoughts: Bunch is gonna be a rockstar. I won't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lata Hata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-7291424864173008095?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7291424864173008095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7291424864173008095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-like-star-across-my-sky.html' title='Just like a star across my sky...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-3565984014318949920</id><published>2009-03-19T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T07:48:14.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your kiss I can't resist</title><content type='html'>Kisses make my world go 'round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE making out. Good ol' fashion, not leading to sex, deep, passionate making out. The kind where both people just genuinely enjoy kissing each other. Nothing more and nothing less. I personally don't think there's enough kissing in a relationship. It seems like when you're single making out can sometimes be a past time. Once you're in a relationship it's like the majority of the time you make out just to initiate sex. Now, I love having sex as much as the next girl (probably more!!!) but DAMN do I love making out! I need more of it. I don't ever feel NOT in the mood to either. Bunch says sometimes he's not in the mood. I can respect that.. I don't get it nor do I know what that feels like, but I respect it. Kisses are just something I can't pass up. It's pretty much my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The countdown to becoming beach bum worthy is ticking away quickly and I'm no way ready. I need to get t' gettin'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot how much I heart The Cranberries. Now and forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep and profound. That is my love for B. Those also describe how much I can miss that guy. It's pathetic. Beautifully tragic. Hopelessly passionate. Completely perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't listen to a song without singing. I can't lay in silence without a song popping into my head. Once that happens, I can't resist the urge to sing. Sign? Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need sleeping pills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-3565984014318949920?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3565984014318949920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3565984014318949920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-like-star-random.html' title='Your kiss I can&apos;t resist'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2690973302274887901</id><published>2009-03-17T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:24:15.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Irish eyes are smiling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Hope everyone had an awesome weekend and joined in on all the green festivities! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;My weekend was pretty damn awesome!! The parade on Sunday was fantastic. The friends were incredible as always. The weather was breathtaking! The memories are PRICELESS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Today a couple of us may be going to Durbins to celebrate a little more... on account of it being &lt;em&gt;actual&lt;/em&gt; St. Patty's Day and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Oh, summer... come quickly. I can't wait to be able to cook out and chill outside... drinkin of course hahahaha!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I love happy blogs, don't you? =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;*PEACE*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 438px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;↑&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;My Idea Of Heaven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;↓&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 424px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 428px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/2568_1061912865259_1149072135_30242.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2690973302274887901?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2690973302274887901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2690973302274887901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-irish-eyes-are-smiling.html' title='When Irish eyes are smiling!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp337/punkhop_pixie/in%20RL/th_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4596460570899410495</id><published>2009-03-13T07:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T07:53:40.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause you make me feel...</title><content type='html'>Hospitals suck ass. Especially ones like mine that operate kind of county-ish. Fuck that shit. I was here forever waiting in that damn ER last night. Now I feel worst than when I went in. The bitchass nurse was coughing and sneezing while she was drawing blood. I felt like pimp smacking her. Now on account of my weak immunities I'm probably sick too!! Cunt. I also had an argument with a nurse and a PA. I'm a motha-fuckin employee. The ONLY perk that has is that my chart is supposed to get pushed to the top of the pile. Now granted, I do understand that if there were a real emergency it would have priority. I'm not ignorant! But sheesh.. there was a bunch of bs cases. I know this for a fact cause I scanned the database before I went to register myself haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there was this one nurse, Sherika (sp?), she had my back. I want to find out if we still have that contest where you vote for who you think deserves "caregiver of the month." I will totally vote for her 100Xs. She made that 4 hrs bearable. I so greatly appreciate people who take pride in their work and profession and carry themselves in a dignified manner. She's pretty much awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I'm fine. I'm not dying like I thought I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am, on the other hand, starving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunch said after he gets out of work he's gonna spoil me to death. But not literally. He made sure I knew that he wasn't going to actually KILL me. He was so worried. When I AIMed him and said I was probably just gonna go home cause it was taking to long, he called me and scolded me. I didn't even know how to react. No one yells at me, I'm a brat like that. HAHA! So i stayed. I was so confused! But the point of this was, he said I'd get endless footrubs, massages, kisses, everything. AND he recorded last nights Grey's for me. He's gonna watch it with me. He told me the name of the episode is "I'll follow you into the dark." It was meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, well I feel like I need to actually get some work done today. I'm gonna be leaving early to go to BDubs with some peeps so i should make up some work... plus, on account of my not feeling good yesterday I did absolutely nothing!!! HAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fer real now... HOLLA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4596460570899410495?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4596460570899410495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4596460570899410495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/cause-you-make-me-feel.html' title='Cause you make me feel...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-224613220644501148</id><published>2009-03-12T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T12:37:06.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All I want in life is a little bit of love to take the pain away.</title><content type='html'>So it's happening again. I don't know why I get this way or why it's so hard for me to just be happy. I always find a way to not give my heart COMPLETELY to someone/something. It's like something inside of me feels the need to stay miserable. No matter how perfect I feel things are going, there's always this little voice inside of me that makes me doubt. Makes me second guess. Simply makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I believe in a real TRUE love. I don't think I ever have. I hope someday I will. Its must be incredible to have such faith. No matter how much I tell myself I've found it, I can never fully accept it. There must be something wrong with me. How can someone want to shield themselves from the thing that most people strive and search for their whole lives??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want real, complete, whole, unconditional, undeniable, never failing, neverending, all-consuming, TRUE love. The kind that makes me go against all better judgement. The kind that even if I've had this ideal in my head forever makes me reevaluate what I really want. The kind that drives me crazy. I want to go crazy in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Does this exist? Such a self-sacrificing, no-holds-barred, two-become-one, dedicated, loyal, follow-you-into-the-dark type love. Is it even possible for two people to be so sure of each other that nothing else matters? Can two people dedicate their lives to each other and take vows that they know for a fact they will uphold? To be able to say "for better or worse, til death do us part" is so powerful. If I felt for a second that there was some doubt that the other person may no&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;t be so comitted to these ever so sacred words, then I don't want any part of it. I've always had this idea. This &lt;em&gt;crazy&lt;/em&gt; idea. I decided last night that if my potential marriage isn't going to live up to the expectations I've set then I don't want to get married at all. I don't think I'd ever be completely happy if I didn't have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, if I were to finally have that true love that makes me reevaluate this, then isn't that just as good as what I once thought I wanted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my boyfriend more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life. He is now and will always be my everything. I just wish I could accept that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-224613220644501148?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/224613220644501148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/224613220644501148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-i-want-in-life-is-little-bit-of.html' title='All I want in life is a little bit of love to take the pain away.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-708336637271271086</id><published>2009-03-10T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T09:57:43.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brighten</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"I'm ready when you are, take me home. You know I shouldn't be alone."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunch got me playin that song on REPEAT! Like fo' real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My Gma text me yesterday to thank me for the card and money I sent her. I just so happen to have been at Red Lobster with the bf while this happened. Needless to say, I started crying. I miss her so much. It's such a powerful, all-consuming, painfull miss. I don't think anyone can understand this feeling. Just her saying, "Hi my consentida" sent me over the tear-filled edge. I can't stand this distance. I don't even know how it's possible that I haven't moved to Texas yet!! Bunch told me I didn't need to cry. I know I didn't &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to. Doesn't mean I could stop it from happening. Our perfect lil' dinner ended with tears streaming down my face. I wasn't all obnoxious or anything. Like heaving and drawing attention to myself, just tears. Quiet tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let the beach bum countdown begin. Actually, I can't really countdown because I don't have an exact date to countdown to. Oh well, regardless its approximately 3.5 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost St. Patrick's Day. It's like a MAJOR deal here!! [that was for Ness] We have like THE biggest celebration/ parade in the U.S. Oh wait, I hear Georgia or somewhere (not founded on Irishness like us) has topped it. I don't even see a point in why they'd bother. Haters. I funna be wasted by 10 a.m. Niiiice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lata... back to work for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"If I die tonight, I want your name written on my grave."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-708336637271271086?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/708336637271271086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/708336637271271086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/brighten.html' title='Brighten'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4706275841939735273</id><published>2009-03-05T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T18:49:13.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bout-it, bout-it</title><content type='html'>But I'm not about drama and drama-filled cunt bitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step the fuck off you petty, good for nothing, wastes of space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always refreshing to step back and remember that I'm so much better than that and you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4706275841939735273?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4706275841939735273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4706275841939735273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-bout-it-bout-it.html' title='I&apos;m bout-it, bout-it'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-699103398073489813</id><published>2009-03-05T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T10:23:33.852-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This world better damn well hope another door is opening...</title><content type='html'>Cause this one sure the fuck just got slammed closed in my face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you think things are going to start looking up, and that the tables have finally turned in your favor, God steps in and shows you that you just weren't meant to one of the lucky people. I always knew my life wasn't gonna be easy. Thateverything I need and wanted was only gonna come with struggle and a fight. Silly me for thinking it was my time to enjoy the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, life. Fuck. You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-699103398073489813?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/699103398073489813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/699103398073489813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-world-better-damn-well-hope.html' title='This world better damn well hope another door is opening...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-7095080480095567217</id><published>2009-02-27T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T12:15:02.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish that every kiss was never ending.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i667.photobucket.com/albums/vv35/sara_franco_2009/marilyn%20monroe/marilynmonroe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 378px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i667.photobucket.com/albums/vv35/sara_franco_2009/marilyn%20monroe/marilynmonroe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need money, lots and lots of money. Someone give me some please. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in the mood to dance. Like REALLY get down! Maybe I'll have a dance party in my room tonight. Alone. I don't give a FUCK! Speaking of rooms though, I'm in desperate need of cleaning mine. It's absofuckinlutely ridiculous. Like fo real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me and the bf went to the Bulls game on Tuesday. We were sooooo freakin close to the court. It was an amazing game. Sooo much fun. I don't know if I can go back to sitting in our usual shitty seats!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I woke up and I could barely move. My lower back was in agonizing pain. It still is. It feels like it's gonna break. I can barely bend or sit or function normally. To top it off, as I was leaving Bunch's house last night I hit my foot on some heavy metal-like box. I swear it felt like I broke my fuckin' ankle. I will never understand how these things happen to me... or how one person can be so goddamn clumsy! Anyways, it feels broken. It's not, I know, but DAMN! Could've fooled me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want a banana split. With spinkles. And I want to have said banana split with the weather like it was the other day when all I needed was a cardigan. And i wanna sit on a blanket on Bunches front lawn eating it. Make it happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I was thinking about something B said to me the other day. I think I was being my usual bratty self and probably pouting or sighing about something, and he said, "Boobie, whats wrong?" "I don't know. I think I want something," I said. Then he said, "what do you want?" To which I replied, "Everything." This was such a Marilyn Monroe moment for me. He just kinda smirked and said, "I know you do, babe." But I love that he didn't Ugh at me or anything like that. Just kept running his fingers through my hair like he knew one day I would have everything. And I will. I know this now because of two reasons. 1. I won't be satisfied until I do have everything, and 2. I now have someone by my side that WANTS me to have everything and would give me everything if he could. I may have said this before but I'll repeat it- I've never been one to depend on someone else or need someone to make me happy. But this, this security I feel.. well, I love it. I don't ever want it to go away. Even when he kinda makes me mad sometimes and it puts me in bratmode where I just wanna say some smartass remark that I know will aggravate him, I still know I could never be without him again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Clearly I've rambled on about this for far too long... at least for today hahahaha. Suckas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PEACE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-7095080480095567217?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7095080480095567217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/7095080480095567217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-wish-that-every-kiss-was-never-ending.html' title='I wish that every kiss was never ending.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i667.photobucket.com/albums/vv35/sara_franco_2009/marilyn%20monroe/th_marilynmonroe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-573978482786533913</id><published>2009-02-20T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T11:22:58.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know sometimes it's gonna rain...</title><content type='html'>I hate the feeling of moving backwards. I like progress. Continuous movement towards a goal. I HATE when I think I've made progress only to then realize I clearly had not. Then the feeling of it all having been in vain sets in. That is the part that really screws with my head and my emotions. It's unfair that a single moment or a couple tiny [stupid] occurances should be able to tarnish perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Ne-yo's song "Mad" is awesome. Also, I can't help but to put Gwen Stefani's "4 In The Morning" on repeat. Things are weird with me today. Bad feelings and bad vibes make for bad attitudes. I'm gonna try and be on my best behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I know that it's a wonderful world, I just can't see it right now."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt; My Everything &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304960039737940018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SZ8BDJw42DI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vsUSR52VBNY/s320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-573978482786533913?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/573978482786533913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/573978482786533913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-know-sometimes-its-gonna-rain.html' title='I know sometimes it&apos;s gonna rain...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SZ8BDJw42DI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vsUSR52VBNY/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2156505445685852051</id><published>2009-02-17T01:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T10:48:07.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it feels like it might rain on me</title><content type='html'>Coconut Records rules my life. Damn that Jason... he doesn't even realize that he has such control over my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Valentine's Day was the shit. We bummed around, ate like fatasses, had absolutely incredible (well you know...) and spent genuine quality time together just talking, laughing, and being completely in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I hate not being able to fall asleep. I have to wake up in 4 hours to go to work. =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I've never felt a love like the one I have with Bunches. I don't think words alone can describe it, but I need to keep putting it out there. This kind of perfection needs to be shared with the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm in dire need of a vacation. I have to hit up EP and Cali. ASAP. This isn't a drill people!!! Someone buy me tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Our new Monday night tradition is going over extremely well. I definitely think this is a keeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ZzzZZzzZZZzzz]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2156505445685852051?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2156505445685852051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2156505445685852051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-feels-like-it-might-rain-on-me.html' title='it feels like it might rain on me'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4953205230575834171</id><published>2009-02-12T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T13:59:34.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;Roller Coaster&lt;</title><content type='html'>I've been having the weirdest dreams lately. I hope none of them are windows into my subconscience. I don't see any way that can work to my advantage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm... Blink is back together!!! I can express my complete and utter excitement here!! OMG i wanted to scream from the moment I thought there was even a possibilty and I wanted to jump up and down when it finally became a reality!!! Unfortunately, due to the fact that my bf is super critical and no matter how happy I am he'd prolly turn his nose up at me cause in his eyes he's the only fan, I felt I should just keep my emotions to myself. Whatever. He didn't even seem all that excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else?? It's almost ValentiMe's Day hahaha. I wanna protest by having a "bed-in" like John and Yoko did... Bunch said he's down but I don't believe him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom left to Texas today... lucky bitch. I wanna go. Actually, I wanna go ANYWHERE!! Someone take me away. I swear, if i could pick up and go, and just start over somewhere- even if just for a little while- I would. In. A. Heartbeat. I need more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to work late today so I'll be here for awhile still. Good thing my boss left already cause I'm seriously considering naptime! =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREY'S ANATOMY is tooooodaaaaay!!!! w00t w00t!!!! Me and Akat are gonna order food, lay, cuddle, and lose ourselves in Seattle Grace. INCREDIBLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K well I'm out this bitch... HOLLA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4953205230575834171?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4953205230575834171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4953205230575834171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/roller-coaster.html' title='&gt;Roller Coaster&lt;'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-4111179906915956553</id><published>2009-02-06T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T00:05:22.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it.</title><content type='html'>[stupistupidstupidstupidstupid]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I come up with some of the shit that goes through my mind? I wish there was  a way to shut down my brain... just for a little while. I just want some silence. =[&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-4111179906915956553?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4111179906915956553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/4111179906915956553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/neurotic-to-bone-no-doubt-about-it.html' title='neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-1737997120770943865</id><published>2009-02-06T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T08:31:35.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'>double you, tea, eff.</title><content type='html'>I woke up with a busted lip accompanied by dried up blood, and soreness. Wtf did I do last night?? Sheesh... (imissbunches)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading the book &lt;em&gt;The Big Love.&lt;/em&gt; I really hope the main character doesn't fall for her ex's bullshit ass apologies and lies. She, the narrator, kinda reminds me of me. I don't know if that's good or bad. (goshimissbunchsomuch) I should've brought my book to work today... seeing as how I'm probably not gonna do jack shit. Maybe I'll nap =] (stillmisshim)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't slept with my bunches o' oats in TWO freakin days!!! IFUCKINGMISSHIM!! I'm so pathetic. He knows this though haha. We had an arguement last night. It lasted like 2 minutes and then we were done. I must admit I was being bratty, but whatever. Sometimes he just says things that piss me off. It happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm gonna put my head down for a bit... it's really hurting =\ damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okiheartyoubye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-1737997120770943865?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1737997120770943865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/1737997120770943865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/double-you-tea-eff.html' title='double you, tea, eff.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-3227554656975605577</id><published>2009-02-05T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:47:19.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and insecure, you found me... you found me.</title><content type='html'>I got mad at something really stupid today. Something that should've made me laugh and sigh a sigh of relief for no longer being a part of such stupidity... but i didn't. I felt a surge (albeit a small one) of anger rush through my body... then THAT made me mad. I refuse to write what made me mad. I can't have the details all out in the open. Tragic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been falling asleep terribly sad lately, even when I sleep with Bunch. I need something. I don't know what yet. On a lighter note, i fell asleep sad on Tuesday night and woke up Wednesday morning with a smile on my face. Bunches was the first thing i saw when I opened my eyes... it was so perfect. Sometimes I wish there was a camera always hanging above me to capture those truly powerful moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got tagged in one of those Facebook "random facts" type dealies. I'm gonna actually fill it out... I just hope I dont overanalyze it and end up depressing myself. Hmmm... can I even come up with 25 random facts? Guess we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's supposed to go up to 45 degrees this weekend. Thank You, Jesus!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a car. Someone, anyone, buy me one. thnx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every once in awhile a song comes along that I feel I should've written. That song has been stuck in my head. I'm ashamed of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;itstimeforchange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-3227554656975605577?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3227554656975605577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/3227554656975605577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/02/lost-and-insecure-you-found-me-you.html' title='Lost and insecure, you found me... you found me.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-9066913656961326780</id><published>2009-01-28T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T11:38:54.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living is easy with eyes closed</title><content type='html'>So a couple things happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) My bday was Saturday. Crazy, wild fun.&lt;br /&gt;2) I'm anemic. I feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;3) Last night/ this morning I came down with a bad stomach flu. Now I really feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;4) Still have no car.&lt;br /&gt;5) My tia's breast cancer is COMPLETELY GONE!! Sometimes I forget that miracles happen... it's times like this that erase all doubt from my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want chocolate chip cookies... most importantly, I want Bunches to bake them for me lol. Ya, I'm a brat like that ;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm, I think that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Lata, hata]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-9066913656961326780?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/9066913656961326780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/9066913656961326780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/living-is-easy-with-eyes-closed.html' title='Living is easy with eyes closed'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8565520241655927098</id><published>2009-01-22T08:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T08:33:38.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could reach the stars I'd give them all to you.</title><content type='html'>I wish I had magic powers.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make you all better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's maybe 4 people I'm wishing the same wish for and praying the same prayer for right now. They all revolve around just wanting things to be better and easier for them. Pretty much I pray for their strength. This world isn't fair but it also doesn't claim to be. As the saying goes, "No one said it would be easy, but they guaranteed it'll be worth it." Anyways, one thing we all have in common, none of us will make it out alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R.I.P Rocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my hearts: "Un dia a la ves, mi christo, es lo que pido de ti."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8565520241655927098?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8565520241655927098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8565520241655927098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-i-could-reach-stars-id-give-them-all.html' title='If I could reach the stars I&apos;d give them all to you.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-6781179625843434371</id><published>2009-01-20T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T15:25:10.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Shit!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;It's almost my day of birth!!!&lt;/strong&gt; Wow, I'm getting a bit nervous... ugh...  =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to the giant cholocate chip cookie I was eating...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{holla}&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-6781179625843434371?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6781179625843434371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/6781179625843434371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/holy-shit.html' title='Holy Shit!'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-8008658313528349818</id><published>2009-01-14T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T11:45:18.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't hate the playa, hate the game =P</title><content type='html'>I got pimped out at work today, i.e 'loaned' to a different department to help them out with the bullshit they keep falling behind in. I don't get paid enough, much less enough to take care of my own shit AND go help out the Surgery Dept. and all those lazy ass people that work for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the absolute most shittiest day yesterday. So bad, in fact, that I don't even want to write it out in detail. Long story short, I sympathize with those postal workers that go crazy and end up shooting up their job. Anyways... thanks so much, Bunches, for coming over last night just to put me to bed. Had you not been there I would have probably cried myself to sleep. *tears of frustration of course* God I fuckin' love you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hungry... time for lunch =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-8008658313528349818?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8008658313528349818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/8008658313528349818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-hate-playa-hate-game-p.html' title='don&apos;t hate the playa, hate the game =P'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-5453269542724763390</id><published>2009-01-13T10:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T13:51:08.891-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitchass Blogspot</title><content type='html'>I wrote a whole fuckin blog and that shit didnt post. I refuse to write it over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh. Way to add to my shitty day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********** edit **************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did post.... 4 hours later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-5453269542724763390?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5453269542724763390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5453269542724763390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/bitchass-blogspot.html' title='Bitchass Blogspot'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2510575137208856630</id><published>2009-01-13T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T10:15:03.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coconut Records presents: blizzards and animal fries. Every wednesday.</title><content type='html'>I had Bunch upload Coconut records album onto my iPOD. More than likely i'll obsess about it all day while at work. That's just the way I am, I find something I like and I wear it out! HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. lets see... news? Oh ya: Got called into the bosses office and she informed me that I will be coming in to work every wednesday. I'm trying to work something out where I only come in the rest of the Wednesdays in January cause um no, I refuse to give up my Wed! It's both mine and Bunch's day off! Fuck that cunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate a ham and cheese hot pocket at like 3 a.m. Bad me. If only I wouldve fallen asleep like I'd planned!! But no. I suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost my bday. My cousin better get an effing plane ticket and get her ass over here for my party!! *cough cough* lol!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna starve myself from now till my bday. Also, I'm not gonna drink til my party. Maybe that'll help also =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both our (mine and my moms) cars are broken. Again. I've been searching the internet looking for cheap cars. I need one. This bs is getting ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could just sleep the rest of this blizzard away. Especially come thursday when our massive deep freeze sets. Its sposed to be like -30. Ya, fuck that. Just let me sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, back to misery I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I've been massively and unhealthily craving In-N-Out. Animal style fries haunt my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2510575137208856630?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2510575137208856630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2510575137208856630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/coconut-records-presents-blizzards-and.html' title='Coconut Records presents: blizzards and animal fries. Every wednesday.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-2988553038040251491</id><published>2009-01-10T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:10:00.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and we both go together if one falls down.</title><content type='html'>I'm on my way to the casino boat right now. Me, Bunch, his parents, his sister, and his cousin are gonna go get rich right quick hahaha!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting getting carsick right now =/ maybe blogging in the car isn't such a god idea. I'll just throw a couple of things out there right quick: &lt;br /&gt;1) I absolutely adore spending time with him and his family. They've got such an amazing bond. Definately something I've never had but I'm so grateful to be a part of it.&lt;br /&gt;2) I so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I swear it always feels like some form of death is creeping up on me.&lt;br /&gt;3) I'm in the mood for warm soft-baked chocolate chip cookies... mmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-2988553038040251491?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2988553038040251491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/2988553038040251491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-we-both-go-together-if-one-falls.html' title='and we both go together if one falls down.'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-5914726798599198007</id><published>2009-01-09T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T09:33:06.871-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one of these nights, one of these lonely nights...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So last night Bunch got in the mood to record. So I, being the good gf I've been trying to be, stayed home, alone, so that he could concentrate and get some music out of his soul and in to reality. I don't mind really. It's his dream, his passion. In a way it's mine too, I just dont have the skill he does, nor the determination. I find myself giving up so easily on dreams I have or have had. Anyway, I will not stand in his way. So as i spent the night alone I caught up on some myspace stalking, a little on facebook (cuz as much as I think facebook is uber lame it has become another stalking venue for me), checked and deleted countless amounts of emails, shopped around Amazon hoping for a book or 5 to cry out my name and say it will be my next obsession. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I sat there pretty much wasting my night away I realized I don't have anything of my own. He has his recording. What do I have that would allow me to do the whole "Hey babe, I think I'm gonna stay home and catch up on some [insert undiscovered hobby here] tonight. Ok?" I don't. The closest I get is, "I think I might be late comin' over tonight, I really need to catch up on Grey's." I need something. As unbelievably happy as he makes me it still doesn't fill the void of having something all my own. Something that can take me away from daily stress. That one thing that I can imerse myself in and be completely lost in. It used to be music. It used to be thinking of new ways I could be a rockstar, or sketching out what clothes I'd eventually want to make. Now I dont have a passion for anything. I don't even find joy in thinking of being a doctor one day like I have since I was little. Everything seems so unobtainable lately. I almost feel like I'm gonna be stuck in this dead end job forever. I won't. I won't let myself. I've looked into several different programs so that I can go back to school. Fashion design at Illinois Academy of Design (very expensive), Robert Morris for Surgical Tech (VERY expensive) Malcomn X for phlebotomist or physician assistant program (actually not too bad). My problem is actually doing it and not dropping out. I used to love school. Love learning. Love feeling like I was accomplishing things. Now I'd just rather sleep. If only things could be simple again like when I was a kid. Where I only had to dream things and not actually do them yet. Where did all this time go? Definately not to anything substantial. I feel like I'm back in the same place I was when I graduated H.S. Lost. Lost and confused. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, this next part goes out to my heart: Nessa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh my love, if you only knew what you were really worth. If you could only see the gorgeous girl with a heart of gold that the rest of us do. (rest of us being friends and family) If there is one thing I know about it's heartbreak. Another thing I know is the feeling that you've wasted so much time on nothing yet all you can think of is how badly you want that nothing back because at least it gave life some meaning. The thing i've learned is that the only thing it really gives is a false sense of security. At some point or another you just have to move on. I think you are there now. You've been doing so unbelievably great getting back on your feet. A lot of weaker people would have crumbled and gone back but you've pressed on. Sure it took awhile and you went back far more than you should've, but again, thats something I can definitely relate too. The point is you are free now and you've got a great family that will give you all the time you need to pick yourself up and find something you truly love and can truly call yours. I just want you to know that you never have to go through life alone and you definitely don't have to go through life with a cocksucking piece of shit that doesnt know a good woman when he has her. FUCK HIM!! oh, sorry, i got off track. What I need you to know is that although I don't always agree with you, or even when at times I can be a bit harsh (hahaha) I always have your back. We'll get throught these hard times together. We both have a lot of soul searching to do and we both need to find our calling. I'll be there every step of the way and I know you'll be there for me as well. Love you bitch!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289347388306654450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SWeJbO2ohPI/AAAAAAAAABE/7QY8H3UFrPI/s200/menness.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I gotta get back to my dead end job now... someone shoot me... better yet, blow this bitch up. I could really go for some unemployment right about now!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holla.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-5914726798599198007?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5914726798599198007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/5914726798599198007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-of-these-nights-one-of-these-lonely.html' title='one of these nights, one of these lonely nights...'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SWeJbO2ohPI/AAAAAAAAABE/7QY8H3UFrPI/s72-c/menness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-9005037457613732076</id><published>2009-01-08T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:23:44.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If everything could ever feel this real forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SWZgLMsoMcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lr7naob8E5w/s1600-h/1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289020557896462786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SWZgLMsoMcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lr7naob8E5w/s200/1-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In reference to my title: I believe everything will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was driving to work this morning I was thinking about this here blog thing and thought to myself, "why didn't I just add on to my old blog instead of creating a whole new one?" Then i remembered how angry and angst filled my other one was and i wanted no part of it. Don't get me wrong, I'm bound to get angry at times still, but the other one just had so much baggage and so much hate because of my situation at the time. I don't want any negativity as I begin this new year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other things I contemplated durning my morning commute: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) My boss better not be in cunt bitch mode today! (oops, already negativity haha)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) I can't believe another year has gone and come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) This year is gonna be the shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Bunches (also known through here as BHo) really got down with dinner last night! (he made ravioli and texas toast garlic bread)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) How the hell did I manage to gain so much fuckin' weight over the course of like a year!!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That last one has been a constant thought whirling around in my head. I mean seriously! I was in such good shape a little over a year ago, wtf happened? Aside from my constant drinking and binge eating all while giving up my gym membership, I'm not doing anything much different! =/ oh... fuck. I also noticed I eat more when I'm happy. DAMN! I must be ECSTATIC lately! But for real though, I need to get my ass back in shape. Literally. My ass has exponentially grown in conjuction with what I'll refer to as my "tig-ole-bitties." Even my bras seem to be holding on for dear life nowadays. I swear I'm gonna start working out again, and I'll even try to lay off the midnight snacks... and the 2 a.m snacks... and the 4 a.m snacks. Come to think of it, maybe if I went to bed at a decent time it would allow for less time to eat myself into a coma. I'll have to give this more thought over lunch. It's mushroom and bacon angus burger day. It's like the caferteria can see into my soul. Bitches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly, just allow me to emphasize how incredibly in &lt;strong&gt;LOVE&lt;/strong&gt; I am with Bunch. That fucking guy rocks my world fo realz. Word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-9005037457613732076?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/9005037457613732076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/9005037457613732076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-everything-could-ever-feel-this-real.html' title='If everything could ever feel this real forever'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/SWZgLMsoMcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lr7naob8E5w/s72-c/1-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456598108424488754.post-420875543423481432</id><published>2009-01-06T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T08:59:49.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyday i'm hustlin'/ Oh it is love</title><content type='html'>I hate &lt;em&gt;needing&lt;/em&gt; to work. I don't like knowing that I have bills waiting and barely enough money to cover them. I dont mind the actual working part. Actually, working probably keeps me from completely desintegrating into my new memory foam matress topper! I love sleep, oh man do I love sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt get to sleep til 5:30 a.m this morning cause as of late i've been consumed in a new book. It's taken ahold of me. I should be finished with it by tonight since BHo is in the playoffs in NBA Live haha. I love sitting there next to him reading while he gets all into his game. You'd swear he &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; on the Bulls.  Anyways, the point of me mentioning falling asleep at 5:30 was to then mention how I was rudely awaken at 6 a.m. My brother was leaving back to Texas and my mom was worried about him checking his own luggage (he's 15) so she wanted me to drive around the airport while she went in with him. Whatev. I love the kid to death, don't get me wrong, but damn do I hate being waken up when i've just hit that ever-so-sweet deep sleep. =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna crash after work today fosho. Oh wait! No I'm not. I have sleepover plans at BHo's and need to make sure I'm awake when he comes to pick me up. If i fall asleep after work I know im out for several hours... possibly even til tomorrow=/ I'm probably going to end up falling asleep on his couch or something like i usually do. Doesn't matter though, i sleep like shit when I don't sleep with him. I sleep over his house or make him sleep over mine AT LEAST 4 times a week. I've become so dependent, which is not like me. In a way it's incredible to feel so safe and yet so vulnerable at the same time. I've never trusted someone like I do him, and I've definately never been so sure of someone like I am of him. It's absolutely amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've rambled on for far too long now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[peace]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5456598108424488754-420875543423481432?l=ohmystars124.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/420875543423481432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5456598108424488754/posts/default/420875543423481432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohmystars124.blogspot.com/2009/01/everyday-im-hustlin-oh-it-is-love.html' title='Everyday i&apos;m hustlin&apos;/ Oh it is love'/><author><name>Tink</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12542359017494064911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QHeKMvHACwU/S1gev1mxTaI/AAAAAAAAACw/qTllxaodylk/S220/bangs.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
