<?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-5251815</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:08:08.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>spazticity at its finest...</title><subtitle type='html'>Bored and rambling.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>86</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95779705</id><published>2003-06-17T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-17T23:49:36.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cate's incredible spazticity has moved to www.livejournal.com/~rain_all_day.  So come check it out.  This journal might be updated occasionally, but don't count on it.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95779705?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95779705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95779705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_15_archive.html#95779705' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95741777</id><published>2003-06-16T23:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-17T00:07:53.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I didn't really do anything all day even though I swore I'd get up and go to the Y.  Oops.  If Suzanna had called at 6:30 in the morning like she said she might, I probably would have had a very productive day, but she didn't, so I slept until 1:30 this afternoon.  I made food for me and my brother, and we watched &lt;i&gt;The Count of Monte Cristo&lt;/i&gt;, which I really liked.  I think tomorrow I'm really going to get up and do something.  I don't know what yet, but I'll figure it out.  At the very least, I need to go to the gym.  I wish I had people to hang out with here.  Then maybe I'd have some semblance of a life or something.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked until close tonight, and I volunteered to go downstairs and work lower concessions for Brenna because I saw that two movies were already sold out.  I was not in the mood for customers, but then I had the worst rush ever because of a free sneak preview of &lt;i&gt;Alex and Emma&lt;/i&gt; which no one told me about.  My line was literally thirty people long, and I was the only one down there.  It was insane.  I can't belive they only had one person scheduled on a sneak night.  That's just dumb.  It was probably the same manager who put three of us down here on a Sunday.  Of course, that got screwed up by our evil general manager Tricia, and Debbie and I were really excited about goofing off all day.  This is two days now I got stuck down there voluntarily, but it ended up sucking.  Yesterday they took Debbie away, and today there was a sneak.  Blah.  After I closed down there at 10pm, I had to go upstairs and help this other girl close.  I'm closing a lot this week.  But at least Friday is my last day for two weeks.  Of course, they have me working from 2pm until clsoe on my last day.  At least, I won't have trouble sleeping on the plane the next day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooo, so the girl I closed with is totally homophobic.  Brenna and Tradd had just gotten off, and they were standing at the counter talking to us while we were closing.  This girl, Cekell or something like that, kept making comments about gay people.  Brenna continually tried to steer the conversation somewhere else, but Cekell just kept going.  It was pretty ridiculous.  I almost said something, but I figured it wouldn't really make a difference anyway.  Moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to look forward to going to France.  I was just there last summer, so I'm going to spend my time in Paris experiencing normal French life.  I'll go to the movies and shop, and I guess I can go to a few museums and such.  I'll send everyone postcards first thing, so they might actually get there before I get home.  It usually takes like two weeks to mail stuff to the States.  Tomorrow is pay day, which means I will actually have money to spend once I get there.  That is unless my mom decides to confiscate my check to pay for my cell phone bill.  I checked all my calls last night, and the reason I went over is those first few days I was in Nashvegas.  I really didn't make many long calls during the day except for those first few days.  Oh well.  I'm sure she won't make me pay it.  She's not mean like that.  I just can't talk on the phone as much anymore except after 9pm and on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think too much, and it's making  me crazy.  There are two main things I've been thinking about lately.  &lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; Ashley told me that she had a dream where I called her and told her I loved her.  She said it felt so real that she woke up in the morning and thought it had actually happened.  So I've been wondering if she thought it really happened, then what was her reaction?  What was she thinking when she woke up that morning?  I should have asked her when she told me.  Another question: Why did she tell me that?  Hrm.  &lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; I think it's ironic that Crystal spent a good amount of time worrying that I wouldn't want to be friends with her anymore once I met Ashley.  She just kept saying that I'd "leave her for Ashley" or whatever.  In actuality, she seems to be the one who has "left" me.  Huh.  I haven't talked to her in forever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more thinking.  It just gets me into trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95741777?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95741777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95741777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_15_archive.html#95741777' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95706640</id><published>2003-06-16T00:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-17T00:08:28.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>La.  I was supposed to have a really good time at work today hanging out with Debbie in lower concessions just goofing off and stuff, but our stupid manager decided to change it all at the last minute.  I ended up working down there by myself.  Boooooo.  After work Debbie and I went to Cafe Coco (where all the gay people and freaks hang out), and I think I'll have to chill there more this summer.  I called Suzanna since I was in the neighborhood, and she might wake me up tomorrow at 6:30 to go to the Y.  Hrm.  That means I should probably go to bed.  Blah.  Talked to Miss Ashley several times today, and she didn't seem to be having the best of days.  Wish I could have cheered her up.  I don't work until 6pm tomorrow, so I don't know what I'm going to do all day.  It should be interesting trying to find something fun.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95706640?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95706640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95706640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_15_archive.html#95706640' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95689960</id><published>2003-06-15T13:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-15T13:04:45.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got back from church and lunch with my family.  It was weird being at the Cathedral again.  I didn't know a lot of the songs because they've changed them.  But other than that it was kinda cool.  I'm thinking about joining the choir because that could be fun or something like that.  I have work in two hours, but until then I'm thinking about going to the mall and looking for fun stuff to buy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I worked the post, so I was tearing tickets all night.  I saw tons of USNers which was really freaky.  Stephen Schleicher and Brian Clair came out of &lt;i&gt;Dumb and Dumberer&lt;/i&gt;, and Julia Sullivan and her boyfriend were going to see something.  Then I saw Julia Reed, Emily Hooper, and Jonathan Nyquist on their way to see &lt;i&gt;Finding Nemo&lt;/i&gt; which I actually watched the last bit of with Debbie.  I'm working lower concessions with her today, so I need to go buy a crossword puzzle book or something because it's incredibly boring down there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Ashley like a million times yesterday, but each time it was only for like a minute or two.  She always had to go somewhere.  It was kinda weird actually, but oh well.  She sounds like she's having a lot of fun with her friends in Orlando which makes me happy, but at the same time, now she's too busy for two hour long chats.  Of course, that might be a good thing since the last one fried my phone.  Well, I'm sure we'll both be bored and alone sometime soon and get to catch up. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95689960?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95689960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95689960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_15_archive.html#95689960' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95655790</id><published>2003-06-14T02:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-14T02:43:32.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm actually really tired right night, so this is going to be quick.  Work wasn't too bad today.  I got off a few minutes early and went to see &lt;i&gt;Finding Nemo&lt;/i&gt; for the second time with Suzanna and two of her friends from Vandy.  I love that movie.  It's so cute.  I asked the managers about possibly taking off a four day weekend or something later in the summer to come down to Orlando and visit Ashley and Crystal.  They said that would be fine, but I just have to give them the days a few weeks in advance.  So maybe that's a possibility.  I leave for France next Saturday.  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  Mostly because I can't take my cell phone with me.  I practically live on the phone lately.  At least after 9pm when I have unlimited minutes.  Hopefully, I'll be able to find cyber cafes like I did last time when Lucie and I were there.  Otherwise, I think I'll go crazy.  Well, I should be off to bed.  Hopefully &lt;b&gt;someone&lt;/b&gt; will call me in the morning and get my ass out of bed at a decent hour because otherwise I'll sleep until sometime in the afternoon.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95655790?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95655790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95655790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95655790' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95615312</id><published>2003-06-12T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-12T22:31:36.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I managed to make it to the gym today with Suzanna, and I am on my way to becoming buff.  Yay.  I lounged around the house for the rest of the day until like 2pm because I had to go to the Sprint store.  I wait in line for like 45 minutes, and then they won't transfer my phone book over because there are other people in line ahead of me, and it takes 20 minutes just to do one.  So I was sorta pissed because the guy I talked to on Monday acted like it would be really easy to do, so now I have to wait until tomorrow.  Boo.  Work was okay.  I chilled with Catherine and Debbie (cool girls I work with) during my break, and I'm supposed to call them tonight if I want to do something, but I'm already sleepy.  I have to get up early tomorrow anyway.  Oh yeah, so Julia called earlier today, and she was in town for the day.  We went to Shalimar for dinner tonight, and it was really yummy.  Now, I'm talking to Ashley and Crystal and living vicariously through them because they actually have lives.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;some hearts, they just get all the right breaks&lt;br /&gt;some hearts have the stars on their side&lt;br /&gt;somes hearts, they just have it so easy&lt;br /&gt;some hearts just get lucky sometimes&lt;br /&gt;even hearts like mine get lucky sometimes...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95615312?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95615312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95615312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95615312' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95578952</id><published>2003-06-12T00:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-12T00:30:56.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Survey Thingie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your full name? Catherine Jane Dundon&lt;br /&gt;2. Nicknames: Cate (but that's what I go by all the time, so it doesn't count), Cater, Cater Potater, Masticate&lt;br /&gt;3. Birth date: May 13, 1983&lt;br /&gt;4. Where do you live? Nashvegas, TN and Coral Gables, FL (but I like to say Miami because it sounds cooler)&lt;br /&gt;6. What school do you attend? University of Miami in &lt;b&gt;Florida&lt;/b&gt;... Who in their right mind would go to school at the one in Ohio?&lt;br /&gt;7. Siblings and their ages? Jeff (Jeffroy...hehe...) - 16 years old, Emma (Roonie) - 3 1/2 years old, and Erin (she doesn't have a cool nickname yet) - 7 months&lt;br /&gt;8. Pets? We have two dogs at my dad's house, but they're not really mine.  Henry is a yellow lab, and Stubby is a Jack Russell Terrier.  My brother named the little one, so don't blame me.&lt;br /&gt;9. Righty or Lefty: I'm right-handed.           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********YOUR LOOKS*********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Hair color:  It should be dark brown, but Crystal dyed it red when I was in Orlando over reading days.&lt;br /&gt;11. Eye color: brown in the middle and olive green on the outside&lt;br /&gt;12. Height: 5' 3 1/2&lt;br /&gt;13. Do u wear contacts or glasses? since I was 6...  I'm practically blind.  Sometimes I walk around without them though because it makes me feel like I'm in a really big Monet painting.&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you have any piercings?  both my ears, cartilage on my right side...  And I had my tongue pierced last summer for a few months.&lt;br /&gt;15. Where do you want more if you do?  I want to get my nose pierced, and then I want to get my bully button pierced when I have sufficiently buff abs.&lt;br /&gt;16. Do you have a tattoo? yes&lt;br /&gt;17. If so what and where: treble clef on my lower back&lt;br /&gt;18. Do you wear any rings?  I've started wearing my class ring from high school a lot more, and then when I'm dressed up I wear a ring my mom bought for me in the Virgin Islands and her wedding ring and engagement ring from when she was married to my dad.  I also have been known to wear a Scooby Doo lip gloss ring on occasion.&lt;br /&gt;19. Do you have a certain fashion you follow?  I buy clothes everywhere.  Walmart, Hot Topic, Abercrombie and Fitch...  I wear what I like.&lt;br /&gt;20. What fashion is that? good question&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          **********JUST LATELY***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. How are you today? I'm bored because I have no friends in Nashvegas who I hang out with except Suzanna, and she's busy with drama and school.  &lt;br /&gt;22. What pants are you wearing right now? I know this sounds dirty, but I'm not wearing in.  But okay because I'm in bed alone in my room.&lt;br /&gt;23. What shirt are you wearing right now? a maroon tank top from Old Navy&lt;br /&gt;24. What underwear are you wearing right now? green bikini underwear from Victoria's Secret&lt;br /&gt;25. What does your hair look like at the moment? I haven't done anything to it today, so it's just short and disheveled.  &lt;br /&gt;26. What song are u listening to right now? &lt;i&gt;She Knows&lt;/i&gt; by Lifeboy...  They went to my high school, so I love them muchos.&lt;br /&gt;27. What was the last thing u ate?  Milk Duds at the movie theater&lt;br /&gt;28. How is the weather right now? a little rainy, but it's been like that forever&lt;br /&gt;29. Last person u talked to on the phone: I'm talking to Ashley right now as I fill this out.  I was keeping her awake while she was driving home.&lt;br /&gt;30. Last Dream you can remember: It's a secret.&lt;br /&gt;31. Who are you talking to right now? Ashley and Chris V.&lt;br /&gt;32. What time is it? a little after 11pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          ************More about YOU!*****************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. What are the  last four digits of your phone number? 6913...  I know this sounds weird, but the numbers 3, 6, and 9 show up everywhere in my life.  It's creepy.&lt;br /&gt;34. If u were a crayon, what color would you be? Hmmm...  That's hard.  Maybe like periwinkle.  That color is fun because no one can every agree on whether it's purple or blue.  I'd like to be a controversial color if I had to be a frickin' crayon.&lt;br /&gt;35. Have you ever almost died? Yeah, I died when I was like five.  I fell off a stool at a bookstore, and I landed on my chest.  My heart stopped long enough for my dad to call 911, but apparently, it just started again.  And then, my lungs popped when I was born.  But that just made me stop breathing.  I didn't die that time.&lt;br /&gt;36. Do u like the person that sent u this? Sarah sent this to me, and she's a cool chick.  She is very honest, and I respect that.&lt;br /&gt;37. How do u eat an Oreo: I twist them apart, scrape all the cream off with my teeth, and then I eat the cookie part.  Sometimes I dunk the cookie part in milk.&lt;br /&gt;38. What makes u happy? just hanging out with the people I care about&lt;br /&gt;39. What's the next CD you are going to buy?  Okay, this is really sad, but I want &lt;i&gt;The Lizzie McGuire Movie&lt;/i&gt; soundtrack.  There are a couple other soundtracks I want also, but they're just as pathetic, so I won't mention them.&lt;br /&gt;40. What's the best advice ever given to you? Ashley gives me good advice all the time.  She is one smart girl.  &lt;br /&gt;41. Have u ever won any special awards? I used to win math awards when I was in like middle school and shit, but then I got stupid or something.  I won a few French awards in high school, and I should have gotten the music award my senior year, but my choir teacher is a royal bitch.  I'm on scholarship at UM, but so is everyone else, so I don't think that really counts.&lt;br /&gt;42.What are your future goals? I want to finish school and go to grad school (probably for law), and then I want to make a difference in the world.  I want to make it a better place for people to live in.  And of course, I want to fall in love and have a family.  All that fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;43. Do u like to dance? More so when I'm drunk.  Apparently, I get a lot better at once I've had a few shots in me.  &lt;br /&gt;44. Worst sickness u ever had? I had whooping cough when I was like 12.  It lasted for 3 months, and I would cough so hard I threw up, and my chest hurts just thinking about it.  Then freshman year I had mono second semester for like a month, and that sucked a lot.  My lymph nodes were the size of grapefruit.&lt;br /&gt;45. What's the stupidest thing u ever done? letting myself be a victim&lt;br /&gt;46. What's your favorite childhood memory? baking christmas candy cane cookies with my mom every year&lt;br /&gt;47.If u could change one thing about yourself what would it be? Hrm.  I like myself for the most part.  Maybe I'd want to have more willpower.  I give in too easily.&lt;br /&gt;48. Where do you shop the most? Target.  Hands down.&lt;br /&gt;49. How many kids do you want to have?  Two of my own, and then I want to adopt more.&lt;br /&gt;50. Son's name? Harrison&lt;br /&gt;51. Daughter's?  Mariah Catherine, Lydia, Emma (but my dad stole that one)&lt;br /&gt;52. Do you do drugs? I've smoked pot a few times, but I don't do it regularly at all.&lt;br /&gt;53.Do you drink? Yeah.  &lt;br /&gt;54. What kind of shampoo and conditioner do you use? Right now I'm using L'Oreal Vive.  &lt;br /&gt;55. What sport do you hate the most? I don't really hate any sports as long as I don't have to participate.  If I have to play, then I hate kickball with a burning passion.  Kickball is evil.&lt;br /&gt;56. What are you most scared of? being alone...  But isn't everyone?&lt;br /&gt;57. How many TV's do you have in your house?  At my mom's, we have four.  At my dad's, we have three.  &lt;br /&gt;58. Do you have your own phone line or cell phone? I used to have my own phone line before we moved.  I've had a cell phone since senior year of high school.&lt;br /&gt;59. Do you sleep with a stuffed animals? Sadly enough, yes.  I sleep with my Thumper at home, and at school I sleep with Bear the Bear who was given to me by my grandmother the day before I left for Miami freshman year.&lt;br /&gt;60. Have you ever broken/sprained something? Nope.  I am invincible!&lt;br /&gt;61. Who do you dream about: what life could be like...&lt;br /&gt;62. Who do you tell your dreams too? no one usually&lt;br /&gt;63. Who's the loudest friend you have? I think I'm the loudest person I know.&lt;br /&gt;64. Who's the quietest friend: I don't really have quiet friends.&lt;br /&gt;65. Is cheerleading a sport? Yes!  I did it in high school, and it made me buff.  You try lifting people up over your head and looking happy about it for a few hours.  &lt;br /&gt;66. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop? I'm not sure, but I definitely don't bite them.  That owl was freaky.  Who can bite a Tootsie Roll pop after only three licks?  He must have a seriously strong beak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          *************YOU and LOVE************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  67. Do you believe in Love? Um, yes.&lt;br /&gt;  68. Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend? No because the universe hates me.&lt;br /&gt;  69. Do you have a crush? yes&lt;br /&gt;  70. Who is your crush?  I haven't told her about it, so I'm certainly not posting it on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;  71. Do you believe in Love at first sight?  I haven't experienced it, but I'm not going to say it's not possible.&lt;br /&gt;  72. Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Paris in the summer&lt;br /&gt;  73. What song do you want played at your wedding?  God, like I think that far ahead.  Actually, I do.  I have several wedding dresses picked out on David's Bridal's website, but I haven't thought of a song yet.&lt;br /&gt;  74. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?  Smile and eyes.&lt;br /&gt;  75. Longest crush?: Who the hell knows?&lt;br /&gt;  76. Are u shy to ask someone out? I usually inform someone that I'm interested, but then I leave it up to them to take it from there.&lt;br /&gt;  77. Do you find yourself attractive? Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;  78. Do you find yourself ugly? no&lt;br /&gt;  79. Do others find you attractive?  Ask them.  I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         ************Which is worse:***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81. Making out with Marilyn Manson or Rob Zombie? Marilyn Manson scares me.  And who's Rob Zombie again?&lt;br /&gt;82. Having your tonsils or appendix removed?  I'd rather have my appendix removed because it's just a dirty little piece of crap anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FILL OUT (for girls only)*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83. Boxers or briefs: Um.&lt;br /&gt;84. Long or short hair:   short&lt;br /&gt;85. Curly or straight:  straight&lt;br /&gt;86. Tall or short: If they're shorter than me, then they're probably a midget or my prom date from junior year.&lt;br /&gt;87. Six pack or muscular arms? Sure.  I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FILL OUT (for guys only)  Okay, this totally applies to me, so I'm filling this out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88. Regular underwear or thong: Thongs suck, but if she can handle it, then hell, it's her butt.&lt;br /&gt;89. Painted nails or not: Who cares?&lt;br /&gt;90. Regular or sports bra:  Is she at the gym?  Because otherwise, I normal one is good, unless they're huge and need extra support or something.&lt;br /&gt;91. Bra straps showing or not: I think bra straps can be sexy.  Is that weird?&lt;br /&gt;92. Cute n' mysterious or wild n' sexy: Cute and mysterious.  That &lt;b&gt;is&lt;/b&gt;sexy.&lt;br /&gt;93. Dark or blonde hair:  I like brunettes.  A red head works too.&lt;br /&gt;94. Long or short hair:  Either.&lt;br /&gt;95. Curly or straight hair: Either.&lt;br /&gt;96. Color of eyes:  Can I just say beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;97. Long or short nails: Not too long, but other than that, I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;98. Hat or no hat: If she can wear it and look cute, then I'm all for it.&lt;br /&gt;99. Good or bad girl: Good girl.&lt;br /&gt;100. Hair up or down: down if it's long&lt;br /&gt;101. Jewelry or none: whatever works with her style&lt;br /&gt;102. Tall or short: Usually I like girls who are taller than me, but that's not that hard to be.&lt;br /&gt;103. Accent or no accent: Oooo, accents can be cute.&lt;br /&gt;104. Pants or dress: Whatever makes her comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;105. Tan or fair:  I don't encourage getting skin cancer, but either is fine.&lt;br /&gt;106.  Glasses: if they're cute&lt;br /&gt;107. Pretty indoor chick or crazy party chick: pretty indoor chick who likes to party on occasion&lt;br /&gt;108. Freckles or none: maybe a few on her cheeks or her nose &lt;br /&gt;109. Shy or outgoing: outgoing&lt;br /&gt;110. funny or always cool: funny all the way&lt;br /&gt;111. talkative or shy:  talkative&lt;br /&gt;112. who's your hottest friend?  Um.  I don't know actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********Pick One: THIS OR THAT**********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113.Lights on/off?: off&lt;br /&gt;114. Do u like snow, sun or rain? Sun when I'm outside having one of those great summer days and rain for when you're sleeping in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;115. Mickey D's(McDonalds) or BK(Burger King): Le Macdo all the way.  Burger King is just a poser.  What's with those sesame seeds?  &lt;br /&gt;116. Do u like scary or happy movies better? Scary movies are not my friend.  I tend to have a heart attack halfway through like the time Crystal called the house with her cell phone right as the credits for &lt;i&gt;The Ring&lt;/i&gt; came on.  &lt;br /&gt;117. Backstreet Boys or NSYNC? Do either of them even exist anymore?  &lt;br /&gt;118. On the phone or in person?  All I do now is talk on the phone.  I wish I could talk in person right now.  &lt;br /&gt;119. Paper or plastic?  plastic&lt;br /&gt;120. Sasauge or pepperoni?  pepperoni&lt;br /&gt;121. Summer or winter? Summer is the best, but I wish I could spend it somewhere other than Nashvegas.&lt;br /&gt;122. Hugs or kisses? Kisses.  Lots of them.&lt;br /&gt;123. Chocolate or white milk: I do &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; drink chocolate milk, and I never will.  I &lt;b&gt;love&lt;/b&gt; skim milk.  I get milk cravings.&lt;br /&gt;124. Root Beer or Dr.Pepper?: I'm from Tennesee.  We like our Dr. Pepper, and you'd think that Regal Cinemas would know that.  Everyone always asks for it at the movie theater.  I think I ask people if Mr. Pibb is okay and then get a slightly annoyed face in response like a million times a day.&lt;br /&gt;125. Glass half full or half empty? Half full.  I mean, who actually says something is half empty.  That's like saying it's half full of air. &lt;br /&gt;126. CD or Tape: CDs.  I only bought one tape in my entire life with my own money, and that was Alanis Morrisette's &lt;i&gt;Jagged Little Pill&lt;/i&gt;.  I don't have it anymore though because my grandmother burned it.&lt;br /&gt;127. Tape or DVD: DVDs are smaller and easier to transport to and from school.  And I can watch them on my computer.  But hey, do you remember Laser Discs?  Those things were cool.  They were like giant record sized DVDs.  My dad has a Laser Disc player and like a million Laser Discs.  &lt;br /&gt;128. Cats or Dogs: I've never had a cat.  I'd like to though.&lt;br /&gt;129. Mud or Jell-O wrestling: Um, that sounds a little too messy for me.&lt;br /&gt;130. Vanilla or Chocolate: Vanilla ice cream, but chocolate everything else.&lt;br /&gt;131. Skiing or Boarding: I would run into a tree and die, so I avoid sliding down a mountain at a high velocity on little tiny pieces of wood.  Not really my scene.&lt;br /&gt;132. Day or night: night&lt;br /&gt;133. Cake or pie: My grandmother's key lime pie and chess pie are my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;134. Silver or gold: I look stupid in yellow gold, so I only wear silver or white gold.  I could live with platinum I guess.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;135. Diamond or pearl: diamonds...  They're glittery.  But black pearls are really cool.  They look like oil does in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;136. Sunset or sunrise:  sunset in the Virgin Islands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****************Your FAVS*******************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;137. Color:  red&lt;br /&gt;138. Food: Indian or Thai &lt;br /&gt;139. Fast Food: Boston Market&lt;br /&gt;140. Candy:  Milk Duds&lt;br /&gt;141. Beverage: milk&lt;br /&gt;142. Ice Cream Flavor: chocolate chip cookie dough&lt;br /&gt;143. Sport: I loved watching lacrosse in high school.  Those guys beat the crap out of each other.  Fun, fun, fun.&lt;br /&gt;144. Animal: Lemurs are cool.&lt;br /&gt;145.Fave type of music? Everything.  Really.&lt;br /&gt;146. Radio Station: 107.5 the River, baby!  That reminds me of high school.&lt;br /&gt;147. Song: &lt;i&gt;Most of the Time&lt;/i&gt; by Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;148. Band: Uh, I dunno.  &lt;br /&gt;149. number: 13&lt;br /&gt;150. Fav. Actor or Actress?  I have a thing for Anna Paquin right now.&lt;br /&gt;151. Fav. day of the year? Christmas&lt;br /&gt;152. Fav. month? May.  Is it spring?  Is it summer?  I don't know.  It's the lusty month of May!&lt;br /&gt;153. TV Show: I love &lt;i&gt;Greetings from Tucson&lt;/i&gt; on the WB Friday.&lt;br /&gt;154. Store: Hot Topic especially when they have really cool employees.&lt;br /&gt;155. Scent: almond flavoring&lt;br /&gt;156. Teacher: Mrs. Coble.  C is for cookie!  That's good enough for me!&lt;br /&gt;157. Game: Monkey!  That would be the game where you scream monkey and then jump on the closest person to you so that the two of you fall over in a big heap.&lt;br /&gt;158 Saying:  Any of the great lesbianisms that Ashley and I have come up with... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Have you EVER~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;159. Loved someone so much it makes you cry? definitely&lt;br /&gt;160. Smoked? I smoke cigarettes sometimes with my friends, and I've smoked pot a few times.&lt;br /&gt;161. Drank? Yuppers.&lt;br /&gt;162. Ever gotten dumped? By my gay ex-boyfriend.  But I dumped him first, so it's cool.&lt;br /&gt;163. Broke the law? Um, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;164. Ran from the cops? No, but I wish I had.  Damn speed traps.&lt;br /&gt;165. Stole something? I was a thief in high school.  &lt;br /&gt;166. Tried to kill yourself? nope&lt;br /&gt;167. Made yourself throw up? Yeah, twice.&lt;br /&gt;168. Been in love? I don't think I've ever been in &lt;b&gt;true&lt;/b&gt; love, but I've loved a lot of people.&lt;br /&gt;169. Made yourself cry to get out of trouble? I can't make myself cry.  When I cry, it's real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          **********On a FiNal NoTe*******************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;170. Do you like filling these out? when I've got nothing better to do&lt;br /&gt;171. How many people are you sending this to? I'm not sending it.  I'm putting it in my online journal thingie.&lt;br /&gt;172. Do u want your friends to write back? I hope other people post it because I love reading these things.&lt;br /&gt;173. Who is least likely to respond? People who have lives.  But I don't know people like that.&lt;br /&gt;174. Who is most likely to respond? My bored friends, which would be all of them for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that took forever.  Bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95578952?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95578952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95578952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95578952' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95565982</id><published>2003-06-11T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-11T17:04:17.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blah.  Forget it.  I'm trying not to be frustrated with her, but it's really hard.  She was so angry with me for talking to Ashley, and then all of a sudden everything's okay.  Well, she's okay at least.  I guess my friendship was just a substitute, and it's not necessary anymore.  Why did I put up with this?  It's not worth it.  &lt;i&gt;Whatever.&lt;/i&gt;  I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95565982?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95565982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95565982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95565982' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95536386</id><published>2003-06-10T23:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T23:52:16.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've had an incredibly productive day.  I got up at 7:30 this morning to go to the Y, and then I bought healthy food at the grocery store.  Since I was in the neighborhood, I picked up a baguette at Provence to share with Jeff for lunch.  Yummmm...  I went to Target for some last minute shopping and then to the post office to send a birthday package to Ashley and Crystal.  I made an awesome mix for somebody this afternoon before work, and then I spent from 6pm to 11:15pm at Regal.  Someone didn't show up tonight, so it was hell.  We have this new list of tasks that we have to complete on different days, and part of Tuesday's tasks was cleaning the nachos warmers.  Well, considering they've never been cleaned &lt;b&gt;ever&lt;/b&gt;, it took me forever.  But now they shine, so I guess I can be proud of that.  Yesterday I had to do the same thing with the popper, and it was even worse, but at least I had help that time.  The girl I was closing with was new, so she had no idea what she was doing.  I basically closed everything myself and ran concessions all evening.  Fun, fun, fun...  I had three messages on my phone when I got off.  Two from Crystal being incredibly excited about something that she wouldn't explain, and then one from Ashley spoiling the surprise.  Apparently, Jen showed up at their house, and now they're hanging out.  Should be interesting to see how that turns out.  I hope everything works out for them to be friends again.  Losing a friend is never fun.  But getting one back is the best.  Well, I'm going to call Ashley and see if she'll give me a little more information on the subject.  And then it's off to bed for me.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95536386?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95536386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95536386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95536386' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95511570</id><published>2003-06-10T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T11:27:10.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I try so hard to be completely honest with her.  She will never understand how much she means to me.  &lt;i&gt;First factor...&lt;/i&gt;  But everything I do makes her angry at me, and then all she wants to do is fight.  I don't want to fight.  I want to lie in her bed and talk to her about everything under the sun, but I'm stuck here a thousand miles away, and I can't make her understand.  She is such an amazing friend, and I don't want to lose her.  But what am I supposed to do?  &lt;i&gt;Just tell me what to do.  Please.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95511570?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95511570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95511570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95511570' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95503373</id><published>2003-06-10T07:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T07:58:09.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Good morning.  I'm up early because I'm going to the Y today.  Suzanna was supposed to come with, but I got an IM from her in the middle of the night detailing her drama.  Yikes.  That girl is going to go crazy, but we'll go together tomorrow, so it'll be fine.  I talked to Ashley for a while last night.  Well, actually, I talked to everyone at the bowling alley besides Crystal.  It was hilarious.  They were all passing around the phone and being really drunk.  Hehe.  I can't wait to be in Orlando and actually experience that in person.  Crystal's still mad at me because I wouldn't talk to her last night.  I sent her an email explaining why, and I hope that she understands.  Well, I must go make myself buff because this morning I was unusually fat according to my scale.  Boooooooo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95503373?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95503373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95503373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95503373' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95438724</id><published>2003-06-08T17:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-08T17:26:00.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm back.  I just tried to swing by the Sprint store to get my phone replaced (once again), but they were closed.  So then I went to the theater to check what my hours were for this week.  Apparently, one of my managers called my house thinking I was supposed to work yesterday, but I worked everything out.  I have to go in at 6pm tonight though.  Boo.  My schedule is pretty decent this week.  Here it is for those of you who like to know where I am.  Stalkers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: 6-10pm&lt;br /&gt;Monday: 11am-6pm&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: 6pm to close&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: off! :)&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: 3-8pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday: 2-8pm&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: 6pm to close&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: 3-10pm&lt;br /&gt;Monday: 6pm to close&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: off! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to call Crystal back because I managed to check my voicemail despite the suckiness of my phone, but she didn't pick up.  Hopefully, she's not mad at me anymore.  I guess she wouldn't be calling me at all if she was.  I hate my cell phone.  I don't know how I'm going to get by tonight without a 2 hour long conversation with Miss Ashley.  Well, I should go change for work.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95438724?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95438724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95438724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95438724' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95437097</id><published>2003-06-08T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-06-08T16:31:33.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello all!  I'm back from the beach &lt;b&gt;finally&lt;/b&gt;!  I don't exactly have time to give a complete update on my exciting trip, but I'll do that later tonight.  I will, however, leave a short message to my &lt;i&gt;oh-so-amazing&lt;/i&gt; roommate, Courtney.  Courtney, you rule!  And I'm not just saying that because of this message I received while I was at the beach...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jerseygirlcourt: listen bitch, i live with you for 9 months then we leave each other and i don't even get a mention in your online diary...is that my friendship means to you? huh?...yeah, you better mention how much you miss me or i'm gonna fly to nashville and beat the shit out of you, got it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auto response from twitterpated1331: and the dreaded day has finally arrived...  i'm at the beach with the entire dundon tribe.  call my cell and save me!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jerseygirlcourt: anyway...hope you had fun at the beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Courtney, I miss you &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;THIS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; much!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95437097?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95437097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95437097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_06_08_archive.html#95437097' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95140309</id><published>2003-05-31T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T22:45:48.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, what an uneventful day...  I went to Target, and they had basically nothing, so I decided I'd have better luck at the Greenhills Mall.  So I finally found a cute suit at Everything But Water after looking everywhere else first.  They are way too expensive, but I really like it, which is something I &lt;b&gt;never&lt;/b&gt; say about swimsuits.  Right now, I'm packing and such.  I'll probably be in bed by midnight because I have to get up at 8am tomorrow.  I want to go by Provence to get some baguettes, so I can make some yummy sandwiches for the ride.  Go healthy food.  I'm definitely going to start exercising because I feel like such a bum.  My dad forces my brother to go running every morning even on vacation, so maybe I'll go with him.  That could be good.  And then I can restart my crunches routine.  By the end of the summer, I fully intend to be buff.  Hehe.  Hopefully, that'll work out.  Probably not, but I can always dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95140309?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95140309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95140309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#95140309' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95133001</id><published>2003-05-31T17:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T17:31:15.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Called in sick today.  Woo hoo!  I'm back to my normal sleeping schedule.  That would mean I slept for 14 hours last night.  Hehe.  I'm such a lazy bum.  And now, I have to take a shower and get my ass to Target.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95133001?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95133001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95133001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#95133001' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95110663</id><published>2003-05-31T00:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T00:22:39.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, I've been busy, so I haven't updated in forever.  So here's a brief synopsis...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I have managed to get my body on Japanese time by only sleeping during daylight hours and staying up all night.&lt;br /&gt;- Random bruises have begun appearing all over my legs and arms which is, frankly, beginning to creep me out.&lt;br /&gt;- I never saw &lt;i&gt;The Lizzie McGuire Movie&lt;/i&gt; because I kept sleeping through that part of the day before work.&lt;br /&gt;- Closing concessions sucks, but I only have to do it one more time before I'm off for a week.&lt;br /&gt;- I have to go swimsuit shopping tomorrow, so I have decided that eating is no longer necessary.  &lt;br /&gt;- I will be leaving Sunday morning sometime to drive to South Carolina with the entire Dundon tribe (woo woo) because it is that time of year again.  Time for our family beach trip.  Boo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's basically it.  I probably won't see anyone tomorrow besides the folks at work, and I leave Sunday, so for you Nashvegas folks, see you in a week!  And for you non-Nashvegas folks, you should call me more because obviously my life is boring.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95110663?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95110663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95110663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#95110663' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-95009590</id><published>2003-05-28T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-28T17:48:51.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I ended up hanging out at Suzanna's dorm last night after Classical Music Night.  Suzanna went to bed, and I stayed down in the lobby with Jon to keep him company.  We talked and smoked a few cigarettes outside.  So apparently I had one to many, and I totally passed out.  It was so freaky.  I haven't fainted in a long time, so I couldn't figure out what was going on.  Yikes.  I came home at like almost five in the morning and talked to Crystal for a while.  I ended up staying up until six.  Which would be why I slept until 4 in the afternoon today.  Oops.  I guess that means I'll have to go see &lt;i&gt;The Lizzie McGuire Movie&lt;/i&gt; tomorrow before my shift.  I'm supposed to hang out with Suzanna and Jon again tonight, so that should be cool.  Well, I'm off to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-95009590?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95009590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/95009590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#95009590' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94956225</id><published>2003-05-27T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T15:47:28.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm performing tonight at USN's &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Classical Music Night&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; at &lt;b&gt;7pm&lt;/b&gt; at &lt;b&gt;Blair School of Music&lt;/b&gt;!  Everyone in Nashvegas who loves me should come.  :)  Well, I'm off to find something to wear tonight.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94956225?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94956225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94956225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94956225' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94931171</id><published>2003-05-27T03:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T03:09:36.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Played around on my guitar all night, and my fingers hurt.  I talked to Crystal for a while which was nice since we haven't really been talking that much lately.  We attempted to teach each other things on the guitar when neither of us know what the hell we're talking about.  Always fun.  Hehe.  I talked to Suzanna, and she's going to go see the movie with me tomorrow.  Yay!  Hopefully I'll wake up sometime around noon since I have to pick Jeff up at one.  Blah.  Well, considering it's past three now, I guess that means I should sleep.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94931171?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94931171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94931171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94931171' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94923087</id><published>2003-05-26T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T03:06:11.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so I totally wasted my day off and slept all day.  I went to see &lt;i&gt;Down with Love&lt;/i&gt; with my mom tonight, so I checked the schedule.  I have work on Wednesday.  Booooo!  They have me closing every night this week.  There goes my weekend.  Blahdy blah blah blah.  I didn't ever call Patty because I'm a lazy bum, so we're going to have to practice sometime tomorrow.  I really want to go shopping or something.  I have to pick up my brother at one, and then I want to see &lt;i&gt;The Lizzie McGuire Movie&lt;/i&gt;.  I can't go see that alone though because that's just creepy.  Hmmmm...  I have to get out and do something, so basically, I also have to get up in the morning instead of sleeping all day.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94923087?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94923087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94923087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94923087' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94888413</id><published>2003-05-26T02:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-26T02:37:38.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have been sitting here for the past thirty minutes reading random livejournals, and I am now jealous of everyone who has one.  Boooooo.  Why didn't anyone ever invite me to join?  Probably because my friends don't love me.  Although I do really love my little blog.  Well, now I'm actually going to go to bed. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94888413?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94888413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94888413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94888413' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94887799</id><published>2003-05-26T02:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-26T02:10:21.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/R/rascal4u/1043346288_relipstick.jpg" border="0" alt="sassy hot and very sexy"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are a LIPSTICK lesbian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/rascal4u/quizzes/which%20lesbian%20stereotype%20are%20you%20-%20go%20on%20u%20wana%20know!!/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;which lesbian stereotype are you - go on u wana know!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Duh.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94887799?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94887799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94887799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94887799' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94887729</id><published>2003-05-26T02:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T03:06:54.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, three days off...  What am I going to do with myself?  Well, all I can say is I'm going to take full advantage of the time off.  Patty and I are definitely getting together tomorrow to practice because I'm singing on Tuesday for USN Classical Music Night.  If you're in Nashvegas, and would like to come see me do my thang, show up to that because I think I'll be singing two different pieces.  I think the show's actually going to be really good because parents and other alumni are performing and stuff.  Yay for singing.  Other than that, I think I'll start a new book and go shopping and such.  Ooooo!  I'll definitely go see a few movies because I can get in free, and I have to see &lt;i&gt;The Lizzie McGuire Movie&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Down with Love&lt;/i&gt; sometime soon.  Yes, I am in love with Lizzie McGuire, but I heard somewhere that Hillary Duff is actually like seventeen, so I don't feel that bad about it anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking lately, and I really wish I had someone that I felt like I clicked with.  Not necessarily romantically.  I just need someone that I can tell anything to and feel like they tell me everything.  I miss having a full-time best friend.  In high school, I had Suzanna, Christy, and Solange.  Never at the same time.  It was always a one-on-one thing.  Being best friends for me was like being in a relationship.  Then in college I had Jarrod for my freshman year.  And we all know how well that worked out.  But I haven't really found anyone since.  I thought I was coming close, but now I don't know anymore.  And with that, I'm off to lie in bed and think until I fall asleep. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94887729?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94887729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94887729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94887729' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94851821</id><published>2003-05-25T01:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-25T01:10:11.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am finally home after a long day at work.  I worked from 2 to 10 today, and afterwards, I went to see the 10:30 showing of &lt;i&gt;Bruce Almighty&lt;/i&gt;.  I don't know why, but it put me in a really sad mood, and I was kinda crying on the ride home.  My choice of music didn't help much though.  Here's what I listened to on repeat the whole way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;yeah i thought this was it &lt;br /&gt;true love had arrived &lt;br /&gt;so i fell in &lt;br /&gt;what a surprise &lt;br /&gt;and i bought you a ring &lt;br /&gt;and i asked you to wear it &lt;br /&gt;so when i found it &lt;br /&gt;on the bathroom sink &lt;br /&gt;i should have known &lt;br /&gt;i was in for it&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;how do i release this &lt;br /&gt;and how do i let you go&lt;br /&gt;how do i mend my heart&lt;br /&gt;when i feel so low&lt;br /&gt;and how do i talk to you &lt;br /&gt;without crying&lt;br /&gt;how do i let you go &lt;br /&gt;when i still love you &lt;br /&gt;i still love you &lt;br /&gt;i still love you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i don't know if I can &lt;br /&gt;be just your friend &lt;br /&gt;damn you for not trying &lt;br /&gt;and fuck you for standing there smiling &lt;br /&gt;yeah but i know what it's like &lt;br /&gt;to not be able to feel &lt;br /&gt;and i know what it's like &lt;br /&gt;yeah to just &lt;br /&gt;kiss someone &lt;br /&gt;you make them fall in love with you &lt;br /&gt;and then you walk away &lt;br /&gt;to just &lt;br /&gt;make somebody come a little closer&lt;br /&gt;so you can push them away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how do i release this&lt;br /&gt;and how do i let you go &lt;br /&gt;how do i mend my heart &lt;br /&gt;when i feel so low &lt;br /&gt;yeah and how do i talk to you &lt;br /&gt;without crying yeah&lt;br /&gt;and how do i let you go &lt;br /&gt;when i still love you &lt;br /&gt;i still love you&lt;br /&gt;i still love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;i still love you...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so that's not the happiest song to listen to when you're in one of those moods.  When I got home, I had a few messages from folks.  One of those people was Crystal, which actually kind of surprised me.  She hasn't really talked to me much lately, and when we do talk, she always seems kinda annoyed with me.  I don't really know what to say about that besides that it makes me sad.  But there's nothing I can do I guess.  It's really up to her.  I've tried to call her and talk to her, but she just seems like she doesn't want to talk to me.  Well, I'm gonna go to sleep.  I have work tomorrow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94851821?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94851821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94851821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94851821' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94816790</id><published>2003-05-24T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-24T00:11:19.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, work sucks.  I am not cut out for the food service industry.  It is just not my calling.  My feet hurt.  Blah.  I talked to Ashley during my break.  It was nice considering that was pretty much the entirety of my normal human conversation for today.  Nobody really talks at work.  We make small talk which makes it bearable, but I miss talking to people about real stuff.  Yay for Ashley because she likes to listen to me whine.  And truthfully, I love listening to her talk about her issues.  I think it's great, and I will never get sick of it.  I love it when you can talk to someone for long periods of time, and you don't have to solve anything.  You're just talking it out.  It doesn't matter what you say because you don't have to be self-conscious.  I think that is why Ashley and I have come up with so many great sayings lately.  Go us.  I'm seriously going to publish a book of them one of these days.  Well, I think it's time I got off to bed because I'm exhausted and greasy.  Ewwww.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94816790?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94816790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94816790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94816790' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94775773</id><published>2003-05-23T02:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-23T02:15:00.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boo.  I hate the police.  I just got a ticket.  I was on West End, and I was going 41 mph (according to the police dude).  It's a 40 mph speed limit near my house, but at the part I was on it is thirty.  Grrr...  I guess I'll just go to court, and have it taken off my record.  The ticket is for $50, so I'm debating whether it would be cheaper to just pay it.  Hmmm...  Then again my insurance would go up.  Damn, I hate the police right now.  And I really hate them when they do stupid speed traps.  They were pulling over like every car coming down the street and using the Circuit City parking lot to hold all of them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, on to the better part of the day.  I went to &lt;i&gt;Dancin' in the District&lt;/i&gt; with Suzanna, Prasant (her ex), and Jon.  Collective Soul was playing, and they were actually really good.  I enjoyed it even though my legs felt like they were going to fall off.  We went to Waffle House afterwards, and I inhaled a waffle, sausage, eggs, grits, and toast.  Yummmmmy.  Lisa Miller walked in and totally never recognized me.  She recognized Suzanna, but not me.  I am very offended.  For all of you non-USNers, Lisa Miller went to school with me in middle school and two years of high school before she got kicked out for almost choking on her own vomit at a drunken party on a debate trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss people.  But I am getting out and having a good time at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;you'll say it's really good to see you&lt;br /&gt;you'll say i missed you horribly&lt;br /&gt;you'll say let me carry that&lt;br /&gt;give that to me&lt;br /&gt;and you will take the heavy stuff&lt;br /&gt;and you will drive the car&lt;br /&gt;and i'll look out the window and make jokes&lt;br /&gt;about the way things are&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94775773?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94775773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94775773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94775773' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94763861</id><published>2003-05-22T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-22T20:30:40.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got back from my first day at work.  My feet hurt, and I smell like popcorn, but other than that it was pretty decent.  I called Suzanna about going to &lt;i&gt;Dancin' in the District&lt;/i&gt;, but she didn't pick up.  Hopefully, she'll call back because I need to get out of this house.  I am too bored for my own good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94763861?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94763861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94763861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94763861' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94727117</id><published>2003-05-22T02:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-22T02:56:50.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Good morning!  I just got back from the Boro (a.k.a. Murfreesboro which is 45 minutes away for all you non-Nashville folks) where I was visiting Luke, my gay ex-boyfriend.  He always cracks me up.   Him and his roommate, Adam (who I work with now) smoked up while we sort of watched parts of &lt;i&gt;Kissing Jessica Stein&lt;/i&gt; (the &lt;b&gt;best&lt;/b&gt; movie!).  It was actually a lot of fun.  I got to meet Luke's 30 year old boyfriend who just graduated from law school.  He's actually really sweet.  Yay.  Oh, and Luke has some friend Laura that he thinks I should meet.  I saw a picture, and she's pretty cute.  I guess it can't hurt.  Woo woo.  Before that I chilled with Suzanna at Caffeine where I drank my first cup of coffee in a looong time.  Yummmmy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley called while I was at Luke's, and I feel really bad because I didn't hear the phone ring.  I definitely had a missed call when she called the second time, so I'm just stupid.  Oh well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is my first day of work.  I start at 1:30pm.  Blah.  I guess that means I should get some sleep.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94727117?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94727117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94727117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94727117' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94709850</id><published>2003-05-21T18:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-21T18:43:02.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Woke up at like 12:35 this afternoon.  Oops.  My hair appointment was at one, and I didn't even know where the salon was.  So I ran all over the house getting ready as fast as possible, and amazingly enough I made it to Riddles (my new favorite salon) by like 1:05pm.  Go me.  I am totally in love with this place.  Brett was great as usual, and I am very happy to have short hair again.  In three weeks, it'll be back to the other length for those of you who don't like my super short cut.  So no worries.  I really want to recommend my hair stylist for all you Nashvegas people.  His name is Brett, and he is at Riddles on Franklin.  It's basically right off Woodmont.  Seriously.  He's amazing, and this place is so nice.  They do facials and waxing and everything, so go give them business.  Wow.  Look at me.  I'm a commercial.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Luke called today, and he asked if I want to come over and chill at his apartment.  I haven't seen this one yet because I haven't even seen him since summer last year.  He's been dating the same guy for a really long time, so I hope I get to meet him.  Yay.  I have a life.  And Suzanna just invited me to go chill with her and Prasant at some new coffee house called Caffeine.  So I guess I have my whole night planned.  Then tomorrow I have to go pick up my work pants and head off to my first day at the movie theater.  Yay for making money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very happy for my friends in Orlando.  They both seem to be much happier now that they're back.  So congrats girls.  Go out and have fun.  You both deserve it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94709850?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94709850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94709850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94709850' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94675083</id><published>2003-05-21T02:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-21T02:40:50.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I called Crystal tonight, but she couldn't talk because they had just walked into their friend's apartment to hang out, so she said she'd call me back.  I was chillin' with Suzanna and her friend Jon in the lobby of her dorm at Vandy just watching TV and laughing and such.  A couple hours go by maybe and still no call back, which I hoped meant they were still at their friend's place and not just choosing not to call me.  So at like eleven or something Ashley calls and says Crystal is driving and can't talk and drive at the same time, so we chat until they get back to their house.  She asked Crystal if she wanted to talk to me, and Crystal said something to the effect of "maybe we'll talk tomorrow."  Right.  So I felt a little dissed, but I got over it quickly as we decided to finalize our trip to Connection this Saturday.  Apparently, Jon's friends who were going to sponsor us are going out of town, so we have to find new people who are over 21 and willing to go to a gay club.  This is a challenge in Nashvegas.  But I'm going to call Luke (my now-gay-ex-boyfriend) because he has an older boyfriend who might have friends, and besides, chillin' with Luke at Connection would be awesome!  Suzanna had to go to bed, so I hung out with Jon for a while because he was working the security desk until four this morning.  We smoked a few cigarettes and talked about girls.  I know, I shouldn't smoke, but one time isn't going to kill me.  I think I deserve a bad habit every once in a while, and now is a good time for one.  Hmm...  I think I'm going to go play my guitar for a little bit before I go to bed now.  It helps me think and wind down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94675083?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94675083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94675083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94675083' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94647151</id><published>2003-05-20T14:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T14:42:11.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Damn, I'm sleepy.  I got like three hours of sleep last night, so that's understandable.  I just got back from Rivergate where I dropped my car off for an oil change while I had lunch with my mom and folks from her office.  Yummmmy Mexican food...  I made a hair appointment for tomorrow with my hair dresser from the second to last time I got my hair cut.  He's so nice.  He charged me the same price as guys because I don't have long hair, so it was always like $20 cheaper with him.  Over Spring Break I couldn't find him, but I have managed to track him down.  Yay!  Leah cancelled dinner tomorrow, which makes me happy since it's my last dinner at home before work starts up.  Suzanna and I are going to dinner at Bosco's in the Village, so that should be fun.  I should probably go pick up my pants from the seamstress lady, but that would require moving, and my bed is so comfortable.  I'm thinking about taking a short nap.  Hmmm...  Ashley and Crystal left for Orlando this morning.  Ashley was online when I gave up and got up at seven this morning.  Most everyone else still had away messages about their comfy bed or catching some Zs, but no, I had to be awake.  But at least, I had someone to talk to about the craziness that is my family.  She called when they got in, so they are probably at Home Depot right now doing something lesbonic like buying tools.  &lt;i&gt;k.d. lang, you &lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt; a lesbian!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94647151?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94647151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94647151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94647151' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94630021</id><published>2003-05-20T07:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T07:45:23.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Holy crap my family is full of crazy people.  I had lots of trouble falling asleep last night, and I woke up pretty much on the hour, so when I woke up at like 6:53 this morning I wasn't surprised.  All of a sudden I realized that I didn't wake up on my own, but instead my mom's high pitched screaming was to blame.  Great.  What in God's name could make someone scream at seven in the morning you ask?  Well, my brother would be one logical answer.  My brother had decided he wasn't going to school.  Today is his last day of review before exams, and he was not going.  Instead, he had decided he would get up and study here because that would be better use of his time.  Right.  Are you still following me?  No, well, don't worry about it.  I don't understand either.  My mom basically broke down when I walked in there to tell her that screaming this early in the morning is just not acceptable, and then she left me with my determined younger brother.  I sat on his bed for like twenty minutes...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold on.  I have to go try and get him out of bed again...  Okay, I'm back after turning on all the lights and opening his blinds.  We are now being serenaded by a mix that is playing at an almost unbearable volume.  Hopefully, he'll just get annoyed and finally get out of bed, but probably not.  So anyway, back to the original story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attempted to reason with him for like twenty minutes, and he finally got up to go to the bathroom.  Ha!  That was my chance!  I locked him out of his room which was incredibly satisfying, so after he crawled in my bed, I ordered his skanky ass into the shower.  My mom thanked me for getting him up, and now she's gone, and we are dealing with the present situation because he has decided to get back in bed after showering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, that is why it is not even eight in the morning, and I have been up for almost an hour.  Why me?  Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94630021?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94630021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94630021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94630021' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94621303</id><published>2003-05-20T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T01:49:54.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spent a nice evening discussing relationship problems with pretty much everyone I know.  Suzanna was bored and alone at the security desk of her dorm, so I came by to chill with her.  Her friend Jon was there too, so we all discussed our various problems.  Ashley called, and I went outside and talked to her for a while.  Lately, I talk to her a lot more than I do to Crystal.  Crystal won't really talk to me anymore.  In the beginning of our friendship she said Ashley would steal me from her, and I'm starting to realize that Ashley didn't do anything to steal me away.  Crystal isn't losing me.  I feel like she's throwing me away.  I'm sure we'll work everything out because I wasn't lying when I told her I would never leave her.  Because I don't abandon my friends.  I can't do that.  If she doesn't think she feels the way I feel, fine.  She can't say she never liked me.  I know she would be lying.  I have a letter that proves otherwise.  That and I saw it in her eyes.  I had never seen that before.  But when I looked into her eyes, I could just tell.  So it only lasted a few days...  At least, I felt that for a moment.  Now I know the feeling that I'm waiting for with someone else.  I'm sad that she doesn't want me, but I can move on.  I'll be fine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm going to Connection next Saturday after work.  Yay for me!  I've been out and about a lot more lately, which is also good.  I'm working on getting a life.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94621303?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94621303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94621303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94621303' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94603410</id><published>2003-05-19T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T08:05:32.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blah.  I slept most of today.  For no reason at all besides the fact that my brain is pretty much off when I sleep.  &lt;i&gt;I wish I could just stop time, or just stop my brain!&lt;/i&gt;  Ashley, I totally agree with you on that one.  :)  Work called, and I got my schedule.  I'm going to post it here for all of you that care.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: 2-8pm&lt;br /&gt;Friday: 3 to close&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: 2-10pm&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: 2-8pm&lt;br /&gt;Monday: off!&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: 6 to close&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94603410?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94603410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94603410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94603410' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94562670</id><published>2003-05-18T22:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-18T22:49:38.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>AHHHH!!!  Does she have to be so frickin' indifferent?  Everytime I call it's like I'm bugging her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You're pushing me away.  Stop it.&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94562670?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94562670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94562670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94562670' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94560598</id><published>2003-05-18T21:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-18T21:57:53.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'll probably end up sleeping soon because I have nothing better to do on a Sunday night.  I got up this morning at 9:30am (miracle!), so I could go to my birthday brunch thingie at my dad's.  My grandmother got me a book of guitar songs, and I can now play &lt;i&gt;Achy Breaky Heart&lt;/i&gt;.  It only has two chords, and it entertained me, so there you go.  I had training for my new fantabulous job at 1:30 which lasted until 4pm.  That was pretty painful.  We watched four videos and read manuals the entire time.  Blah.  But at least now I have a job, so that's good news.  I should start sometime after Wednesday.  Go making money!  I ate Shalimar for dinner which was yummy, and then I met Suzanna at her dorm for an ice cream social she put together for her residents being the awesome RA that she is.  Her car died, so I had to drive her home to Brentwood, but that gave us time to discuss the craziness that is her boyfriend/ex-boyfriend/who knows.  I talked to Crystal a little today.  She doesn't seem like herself.  I hope that going back to Orlando will make her happier.  I miss her a lot.  I wish there was something I could do.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94560598?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94560598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94560598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94560598' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94527130</id><published>2003-05-18T01:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-18T01:35:44.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If I'm so sure of myself, then why am I crying right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;you give me that look that's like laughing&lt;br /&gt;with liquid in your mouth&lt;br /&gt;like you're choosing between choking&lt;br /&gt;and spitting it all out&lt;br /&gt;like you're trying to fight gravity&lt;br /&gt;on a planet that insists&lt;br /&gt;that love is like falling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;and falling is like this...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94527130?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94527130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94527130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94527130' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94526915</id><published>2003-05-18T01:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-18T01:27:11.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm finally combining the advice I've given Ashley over the last week or so with my own advice, and as I so eloquently put it to her earlier, "I'm not moving &lt;i&gt;on&lt;/i&gt;, but I'm moving &lt;i&gt;forward&lt;/i&gt;."  Or something like that.  I'm not going to deny how I feel.  I've told her many times.  She knows.  I could fall in love with her if she'd let me, but we're just not in the same place.  Maybe one day (hopefully soon) she'll just wake up and realize that all those excuses are nothing next to what you really feel, but then again, maybe not.  Whatever happens, I'm waiting, but I'm not standing still.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94526915?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94526915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94526915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_18_archive.html#94526915' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94516334</id><published>2003-05-17T19:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-17T19:17:57.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't know what else to do.  I've done everything I can think of, and it's never enough.  It's like she doesn't &lt;b&gt;want&lt;/b&gt; to be happy.  She likes me, but she has all of the excuses for why that's not enough.  Well, I guess I'm just different then.  That is always enough for me.  I don't care if I live all the way around the other side of the planet or whatever.  Why can't she just let go of her?  &lt;i&gt;You can't wait for someone to realize something you already know.&lt;/i&gt; Maybe I should take my own advice.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94516334?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94516334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94516334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94516334' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94513247</id><published>2003-05-17T17:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-17T17:20:02.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I definitely have turned into a lazy bum.  I slept until like 2 something in the afternoon.  I haven't even bothered to shower yet.  Although I did brush my teeth.  :)  Today I have eaten pasta and watched &lt;i&gt;My Big Fat Greek Wedding&lt;/i&gt; with my mom.  That's it.  That is my entire day so far.  Wow.  Suzanna called while we were watching the movie, and she wants to go shopping or something tonight.  But that's all I have planned so far.  Tomorrow is my "birthday brunch" at Dad's house.  And then I have my training session for my new job at Regal at 1:30pm.  They also called in the middle of the movie.  It's good that they gave me the job because if they hadn't, I probably wouldn't have bothered to find another one. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94513247?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94513247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94513247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94513247' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94487723</id><published>2003-05-17T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-17T00:49:20.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blah.  I have a headache.  I just got back from hanging out at Chili's with Suzanna and a few of her Vandy friends.  It was fun until we went to Chili's because one of the guys invited two incredibly vapid sorority girls.  Normally, I don't stereotype, but these girls just fit the stereotype so well that it's hard not to.  Oh well.  I just sat there waiting for Crystal to call so that I could have an excuse to go outside where there were no loud screaming people and have a nice conversation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got jealous which was stupid because I didn't have any reason to be and I don't really have any right to be, but hey, it happens.  She told me that she's going on a "date" with Bruna to the GSA banquet tomorrow, and yesterday she mentioned that this bi girl she knows sometimes flirts with her.  This is all normal conversational stuff, but I still got that twinge of jealousy.  I guess I should just get used to it since Crystal is pretty, and people will naturally flirt with her sometimes, but whatever.  I don't know what my point was with that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Ashley tonight for a bit.  She doesn't want me to have regrets.  I think she's right.  I guess I just wish that I wasn't always the one chasing.  Sometimes I'd like to be chased.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94487723?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94487723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94487723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94487723' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94473276</id><published>2003-05-16T17:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-16T17:27:56.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My brother woke me up this morning to ask me to bring him lunch at school.  I didn't really want to move that quickly, so I said no, but then I asked him to get Mrs. Coble to write me a recommendation for work.  I chatted with Ashley online for a bit, and then I decided it was time to get some food.  Leftovers.  Blah.  I mailed something to Miami (hehe), and then I went to get my pants for work hemmed.  I went by USN and talked to Jana (freshman when I was a junior) when I ran into her in the senior parking lot.  When I finally found Jeff, I dropped him off at home and ran off to Regal to give them my recommendation.  I was bored out of my mind, so I went through my phone book.  I skipped most of the names because of the fact that they don't live in Nashvegas, but everyone else was busy.  Boo.  Eventually, I just went to the mall by myself for a bit.  I bought some stuff for someone.  It's a secret...  Shhhh...  And now I'm home again.  Suzanna and I are going to see &lt;i&gt;Down with Love&lt;/i&gt; at 7:50pm, but that means I still have two hours to kill.  Blah.  My life is boring.  Hopefully, tonight Regal will call and tell me I have a job.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94473276?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94473276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94473276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94473276' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94459011</id><published>2003-05-16T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-16T12:08:41.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Snapshot of my life.  I'm lying in bed with my new Thumper (who still needs a name) to my left.  I just had to make an L with my left hand to tell which side he was on.  My hair is not as bad as usual.  I guess I didn't sleep as crazy as I usually do.  The new Michelle Branch song is playing on the computer because that's the only music I have on this tiny little laptop thingie.  I have things to do, and I'm hungry, but that doesn't seem like reason enough to get out of bed.  Hmm...  It's a conundrum.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94459011?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94459011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94459011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94459011' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94434946</id><published>2003-05-16T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-16T01:23:01.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know I should be in bed.  But I've been working on something.  And I just rediscovered a great song.  With good words.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;i saw heaven in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;and we made a deal&lt;br /&gt;that's what i know of love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94434946?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94434946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94434946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94434946' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94428001</id><published>2003-05-15T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-15T22:31:40.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So what did I do today?  I got up at like 11:30 to meet Jeff for lunch at Satco which was oh-so-yummmmmy, and then I ran off to look for black pants.  I tried the Goodwill Superstore which brought back memories of working at Regal with Solange.  We went shopping for pants there for me to work in when I first started work.  It was weird going back for the same reason.  Well, they didn't have anything of interest, so I attempted (and failed miserably at) finding the Walmart out in Bellevue.  I eventually ended up at Target where I got some really comfy pants that at the moment are being safety-pinned so they don't drag the floor.  I am such a midget.  After my shopping excursion, I picked up Jeff and headed of to Greenhills to see the 4:30 showing of the &lt;i&gt;Matrix Reloaded&lt;/i&gt;, which was really good.  But that whole "to be continued" crap sucks!  I had my interview for Regal at 7pm, so I basically got out of the movie just in time.  They want me to bring in a letter of reference which I think is ridiculous considering this job is crap, and last time they hired me on the spot.  Oh well.  I guess I'll just stop by USN in the morning to ask Mrs. Coble to write something nice for me.  She offered when I visited last week, so I might as well take her up on that.  So after that day of pure excitement (sarcasm), I came home, made myself some dinner, and watched NBC season finales while chatting with Crystal during commercials.  I wanted to continue lying outside on the driveway watching the eclipse with Crystal over the phone, but it started raining.  Boo on thunderstorms.      &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94428001?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94428001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94428001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94428001' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94364312</id><published>2003-05-14T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T21:25:25.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just talked to Crystal.  She's disappointed because she wishes she had a friend to herself instead of always sharing them with her sister.  I totally understand that.  They constantly have to share everything.  It makes sense that she would want to have someone who is just her friend.  She told me when we first started talking that I would become better friends with Ashley eventually like she thinks everyone else does.  I have become really good friends with Ashley because she's great and we both needed someone to talk to.  I wish I could, but I can't talk to Crystal about what I talk to Ashley about.  But Crystal is amazing, and I wish she didn't think she has to worry about me leaving her for Ashley or something like that.  I wish I could be that friend that she doesn't have to share with Ashley just because I know she wants that so badly, but I need Ashley right now to keep me sane.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But truly, my friendship with Crystal is different.  All it takes is seeing her name on my caller ID to make me smile.  I think of her when I listen to sad songs in my car.  I call her just to hear her voice.  I wake up to a phone call and hope it's her calling to make fun of me for sleeping in so late.  I wear the bracelet she made me all the time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talk to Ashley about how we both want people who don't want us.  And I don't know what I'd do without her right now.  But Crystal is the one I want.      &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94364312?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94364312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94364312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94364312' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94312596</id><published>2003-05-14T00:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T00:55:41.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I got my grades today.  I made the Provost's Honor Roll with a 3.932 for the semester.  Go me!!!  That's one step closer to law school.  Hehe.  I just got back from Bongo Java with Suzanna and some other people.  We just chilled and drank coffee.  Actually, I didn't have any coffee.  But oh well.  Crystal called, which was nice.  She wanted to tell me she going to bed.  It was one of those little things that just kinda made me happy.  And then when I got back to the house, she had left a message on IM that just said, "I miss you!!!!"  I know that's not that exciting, but it just made me smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94312596?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94312596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94312596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94312596' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94295233</id><published>2003-05-13T18:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-13T18:46:08.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The picnic went well.  It ended up being me, Suzanna, Christy, and Glenn.  We just ate sandwiches, cupcakes, and puppy chow.  Yummmm...  Glenn, Suzanna, and I went to see &lt;i&gt;Anger Management&lt;/i&gt; afterwards, but I didn't think it was that great.  Suzanna left like five minutes before it ended because she had an RA meeting, but the ending was pretty predictable anyway, so oh well.  I'm going out to Orchid with my mom and my brother in a bit, and then afterwards I'll probably see Suzanna at Bongo Java, and I'm supposed to call Glenn.  But yeah, all in all my birthday wasn't horrible.  Crystal called to wish me a happy birthday.  I miss her.  It would have been a much better birthday if Ashley and Crystal could have been there, but it was still pretty good anyway.  Oh yeah, Regal called, and I have to go in for an interview on Thursday at 7pm.  Funness.  That's like forever from now.  Whatever.  At least that means I'll probably have a job soon. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94295233?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94295233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94295233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94295233' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94244395</id><published>2003-05-12T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-12T23:03:42.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy birthday to me...  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94244395?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94244395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94244395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94244395' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94234909</id><published>2003-05-12T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-12T21:43:27.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pretty uneventful day.  I finally dragged myself out of bed sometime after noon.  I took my time getting ready, but eventually I decided it was time to go out and find a job.  I went to a bunch of different restaurants, but no one was hiring.  I filled out some applications, but in then end, I went back to Regal Cinemas Greenhills 16.  They'll probably call tomorrow, and I'll just work there.  Woo hoo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm worried about Miss Ashley.  I just don't understand other people.  They are just too blind to see what's right in front of them.  Josselyn must be crazy or something.  Maybe I just work differently, but I can't concentrate on all the reasons my head is telling me why I shouldn't be with someone when my heart says I should be with them.  I guess I'm just all for living in the present instead of worrying about the future.  What do you want &lt;b&gt;right now&lt;/b&gt;?  What are you thinking &lt;b&gt;right now&lt;/b&gt;?  Now do something about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94234909?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94234909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94234909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94234909' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94188493</id><published>2003-05-12T01:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-12T01:21:59.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think I've figured out a way to get to Orlando.  I could stay in Nashville until after France.  We get back July 4th, so anytime after that I could drive down to Orlando, and then I'd just have the ticket changed for New Hampshire.  Instead of flying from Nashville, I'd just fly from Orlando.  I could still drive back with Leah, but then once we got back to Nashville, I'd fly back to Orlando again.  Then I guess I'd just stay in there until school started back.  I still have to work out all the dates, and then I have to convince my mom.  Also, Crystal and Ashley's mom would have to be okay with it.  But this has to work out.  Otherwise, I'm going to go crazy.  I just got a really good idea.  I'll share it later if it works out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94188493?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94188493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94188493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94188493' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94135861</id><published>2003-05-11T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-11T00:22:07.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'd be in Orlando in a heartbeat.  Really.  But all these obligations.  Frankly, I'd rather be with you than go to Paris or the beach, and I'd definitely rather be with you than in New Hampshire with my stepmother and halfsisters, but my family sucks.  Everything is spaced out so badly.  I was hoping to figure out a way to drive down super early for school and then stay in Orlando for a while, but my stepmother planned that stupid trip right at the end of the summer.  Usually I love being home, but I just can't stand this feeling like something is missing.  We were together everyday basically all day for so long, and now I'm 16 hours away.  I don't know how I'm going to make it through three and a half months of this.  Do you know what I want for my birthday?  You.  Here.  I know that's not possible, but that's what I'll be wishing when I blow out the candles (although I doubt I'm going to have a cake or a party or anything).  I wish for it every moment.  That should be enough.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94135861?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94135861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94135861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94135861' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94116647</id><published>2003-05-10T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-10T16:48:37.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm so miserable here.  I don't know what to do.  I'm just sad all of the time.  Sometimes I manage to distract myself, but mostly I'm depressed.  I feel alone.  When I say I'm bored what I really mean is I'm lonely.  I miss you.  I'm trying not to, but it's just too hard.  I was in the car with my mom driving on the way back from seeing a movie, and we passed my old car that she parked down the street.  She said something about how I have to take care of it this summer, and I said that that should be Jeff's job since it's his car, and I have my own to take care of.  She was like, "Well, what are you going to do to earn your keep in the house since you're staying here for free all summer?"  I mentioned how I'm trying to get a full-time job, and she said, "Yeah, but what are you going to do in the household for &lt;b&gt;me&lt;/b&gt;?"  I was so annoyed.  I was like, "What are you talking about?  By this time, she was annoyed too, so she actually stopped the car.  I just broke down.  I had already been upset just in general, so I almost started crying.  I don't feel at home here already.  I don't need her acting like that.  I cried when I got back in my room but just for a little bit.  I've been attempting to play my guitar to distract myself.  It worked somewhat, but not really.  Oh well.  Life sucks.        &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94116647?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94116647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94116647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#94116647' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94094503</id><published>2003-05-10T01:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-10T01:25:19.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today wasn't too horrible despite the fact that I didn't get to talk to my favorite person in Miami.  I did leave a few messages for her to get later though.  (I'm such a stalker.  Hehe.)  It's okay though because she asked me to.  I'm using our really cool little laptop thingie that my mom's office loaned us.  It has wireless, so I can put it anywhere.  Suzanna's sitting across from me, and she's telling me about her schizo boyfriend.  He's a freak.  We're listening to the mix I made the night before leaving for home and catching up each other on our lives' at college.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a really cool guitar today, and I picked up few books on how to play.  I practiced a bit, and I'm not as bad as I thought I'd be.  Yay.  Jeff and I went to see X-men 2 which was really good, and now I want to see Matrix Reloaded.  I just had a realization.  I have no life.  Somebody save me.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94094503?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94094503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94094503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#94094503' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-94013970</id><published>2003-05-08T16:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-08T16:37:56.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My first full day in Nashvegas was not incredibly eventful.  I slept until like 11 something in the morning which was nice, but I felt like such a slug.  Oh well.  I got up when Jeff called for me to meet him for lunch at Satco.  I hurried getting ready and ran over to USN for some tacos and stuff.  After visiting a few of my favorite teachers, I decided to head over to Cool Springs to replace the two shirts I was unable to get the orange chapstick out of.  The Hot Topic in Nashville doesn't have my Bambi shirt though.  It was sad, but I got a new Muppet Babies tank top though.  It's so cute.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get to Cool Springs mall I have to take the same interstate I drove down on the way home yesterday.  I seriously had to talk myself out of driving past I-65 to I-24 and running away back to Miami.  I've been thinking a lot about a certain someone lately.  It's weird.  I've never been this &lt;i&gt;twitterpated &lt;/i&gt;over someone before.  Oh well.  I have to go make dinner.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-94013970?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94013970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/94013970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#94013970' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93969641</id><published>2003-05-07T22:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-07T23:10:34.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm finally back in Nashville, and it only took two whole days.  Blah.  The drive home wasn't too terrible, but I miss everyone so much right now.  Crystal and I talked for a while on the cell phone.  I can't believe she actually called me despite her horrible fear of the telephone.  :)  I feel very honored.  Hehe.  I miss her muchos.  I am beginning to understand her dislike for the phone because I really wish I could see her expressions as she says stuff.  Oh well.  I could always drive another 16 hours back just to see a smile... or a smirk.  Poor Ashley.  I respect her for speaking her mind.  She doesn't take other people's ridiculous bull shit.  She sees through all the fake crap, and then she calls you on it.  That doesn't make her a bitch.  That makes her a psychic, but I already knew that she has freaky ESP.  Boo to people who try and bring her down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I'm going to do tomorrow.  I have no life.  I assume I'm supposed to pick up Jeff from school, but so far that's all I have planned.  Nashville sucks.  Where are all the people?  If you are in Nashvegas, and you are interesting, you should call me because I'm bored.  Oh, and sign the guestbook people!  It looks all sparse and shit.  I want it to at least appear as if I have friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93969641?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93969641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93969641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93969641' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93859127</id><published>2003-05-06T07:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-06T07:56:08.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just saying bye from Miami because I have to pack up my computer now, so it's my last chance.  For those of you who read this in Miami, I miss you already!!!  And those of you in Nashvegas, see you soon.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93859127?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93859127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93859127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93859127' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93847814</id><published>2003-05-06T01:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-06T01:48:42.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a great last night in Miami.  Dismantled my loft and almost gave Ashley a concussion when it fell on her.  Oops.  Went to Denny's with the Courtney, Luis, Ashley, and Crystal.  Got a letter that makes going home not as hard.  I think I'm ready to go home now.  I'll miss everyone lots, but at least, now I feel like I've gotten some sort of closure to the issue that was keeping me here.  Don't get me wrong.  I still wish I could move Nashville to South Miami, but now I'm not leaving with so much on my mind.  But we'll see how things develop over the summer.  Well, I should get back to studying for my comparative politics final tomorrow morning.     &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93847814?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93847814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93847814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93847814' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93818013</id><published>2003-05-05T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-05T14:46:30.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be studying, but I seriously can't concentrate.  I just can't bring myself to sit down and learn something right now.  Twenty-one hours and forty-six minutes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93818013?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93818013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93818013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93818013' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93788820</id><published>2003-05-05T03:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-05T03:02:13.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's almost like what I did last night at 4 in the morning didn't even happen.  She didn't even mention it except in joking.  I don't know how I'm supposed to take that.  Probably not well I guess.  Friday and Saturday night were so good, but now everything is just the opposite.  I spent most of today on the edge of tears because she just doesn't understand what she's doing to me.  I felt like we were moving somewhere, somewhere I was ready to go, but then she just made a complete 180 on me.  It was almost cruel.  We held hands.  We told each other everything.  And I thought that was going to continue, but apparently I was wrong.  Somehow, I misunderstood.  Too bad it's too late.  She knows exactly how I feel, but she hasn't done anything with that information.  What are you waiting for?  All I know is I can't chase her forever, and I'm not going home feeling like a fool.  She knows how I feel, and if she wants something to happen, then she can take the initiative this time.  I'm tired.  I don't want to spend my last night in Miami crying about this.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93788820?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93788820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93788820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93788820' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93748933</id><published>2003-05-04T11:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-04T11:06:02.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am such a whiner.  That is why I decided to stop being such a baby and do something about it.  I guess no matter what happens at least I can say that I went after something I wanted.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93748933?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93748933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93748933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93748933' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93736567</id><published>2003-05-04T00:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-04T01:04:01.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blah.  Confused.  I wish I could read minds, so then I'd know exactly what to say instead of just being disappointed.  But hey, I'm pretty used to disappointment, so I guess this will just like the rest of my life.  But at least I know what I want.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93736567?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93736567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93736567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_05_04_archive.html#93736567' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93691897</id><published>2003-05-03T00:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-03T00:39:43.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't even know what to say.  Three days is just not enough time.  I want to relocate my hometown to somewhere in South Miami because right now being 16 hours driving distance away is just not okay with me.        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;something in your eyes makes me wanna lose myself&lt;br /&gt;makes me wanna lose myself in your arms&lt;br /&gt;there's something in your voice makes my heart beat fast&lt;br /&gt;hope this feeling lasts the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you knew how lonely my life has been&lt;br /&gt;and how long I've been so alone&lt;br /&gt;and if you knew how I wanted someone to come along&lt;br /&gt;and change my life the way you've done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it feels like home to me, it feels like home to me&lt;br /&gt;it feels like I'm all the way back where I come from &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93691897?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93691897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93691897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93691897' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93638311</id><published>2003-05-02T00:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-02T00:52:48.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's like almost painful, but damn, I love it, and I wouldn't want it any other way.  That's all I have to say because that's all I can think about right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93638311?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93638311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93638311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93638311' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93584163</id><published>2003-05-01T03:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-05-01T03:10:42.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's way too early in the morning for me to still be awake.  I am being productive and studying, but I think it's about time to just give up.  I have two exams tomorrow, and I don't think they'll be hard.  But it's not like that means I don't have to study for them.  I made a musicology review sheet, and I'm going to study it all of tomorrow during the day.  Then for theory I'm going to play the listening CD while I get ready in the morning.  That should work out fine.  The only other thing we have to know is terms, and they're really easy.  Okay, well then it's decided.  Sleepy time.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93584163?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93584163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93584163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93584163' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93539916</id><published>2003-04-30T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-30T11:43:00.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got back from Charty's after having my jury.  It was sooooo easy, and I wasn't even nervous.  It was in Gusman, so normally I would be freaked out, but the teachers were on the stage with me, so it wasn't scary.  I think I did pretty well.  I got up at like 9:30 this morning, so I could practice with Patty.  I really didn't need to practice as much as I thought.  Apparently, sometime during the semester I accidentally learned my music.  Oops.  :)  But now it's naptime before I start studying for theory and musicology.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93539916?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93539916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93539916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93539916' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93490885</id><published>2003-04-29T16:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-29T16:54:52.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So this weekend was like the best of my life.  I literally cannot think of ever having a better time.  Yay for awesome people!!!  I'm just going to make a list of fun and awesome things that I did because otherwise this will be way too long.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. stayed up having deep conversations with Crystal while Luis snored and made occasional sex noises in his sleep&lt;br /&gt;2. played Scattergories way too late at night to think of any unique words (except for loitering, even though Crystal thought of that too)&lt;br /&gt;3. ate Crystal's incredible yummmmmmy enciladas&lt;br /&gt;4. went bowling and sucked majorly despite the attempt by Ashley and Crystal to teach me to bowl straight (Why can't they just accept me for who I am?  Hehe.)&lt;br /&gt;5. shopped for dyke clothes at Wal-mart&lt;br /&gt;6. went to Disney all dyked-out in my brand new Dickeys and awesome Wal-mart shoes&lt;br /&gt;7. visited every country in Epcot so that we could get a stamp from all of them for our gorgeous oh-so-colorful masks  &lt;br /&gt;8. bought matching Figment shirts at the Imagination ride&lt;br /&gt;9. had a heart attack when Crystal called the house right as the credits came on after we watched the Ring in the early hours of the morning&lt;br /&gt;10. wore our matching Figment shirts to UCF&lt;br /&gt;11. got dinner at Chili's where all of us girls hit on our waitress (I left her a message on my receipt.  Hehe.)&lt;br /&gt;12. kicked the homos' asses at the original Nintendo version of Wheel of Fortune (doctor's scale!!!)&lt;br /&gt;13. filmed our crazy dance/sing-along in the wee hours of the morning (I can't wait to see that tape!)&lt;br /&gt;14. drove back to Miami with walkie talkies (I miss you already... ::sniff::)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there's more that I missed.  If there's anything memorable that I forgot, feel free to sign the guestbook.  :)  In other news, I found out that I don't have to take my ear training final!  My teacher basically just rules.  I got an email about it.  I'm soooo excited about it because that means I have Friday off.  YAY!!!  So I'm going to go now because I should be working.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93490885?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93490885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93490885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93490885' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93267055</id><published>2003-04-25T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-25T17:58:26.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ahhhh!!!  I'm late!!!  My car ate the CD I made for Crystal.  Boooooo.  So I'm burning another one right now, but then I'm off to Orlando!  Yay!!!!!  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93267055?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93267055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93267055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_20_archive.html#93267055' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-93222486</id><published>2003-04-24T23:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-24T23:55:53.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was pretty decent.  I turned in my comparative politics paper which I actually finished before midnight last night.  I was very impressed with myself.  Right now I should be studying for biology, but I'm just not in the mood yet.  I just put my laundry in, so I have to stay up for at least another hour and a half anyway.  I'll get some studying in at some point.  I'm incredibly excited about going to Orlando tomorrow.  Not as excited at the idea of wearing a bathing suit.  I should have stayed on my diet, but I got cocky, and now I've gained like 8 pounds.  Booooo.  That's just no good.  But today and yesterday were pretty good, so I should be dropping the water weight sometime soon.  And then I'll just see where I am.  Hopefully, that will be back to where I was before I got addicted to Tostitos Gold.  :)  I'm going to try and behave this weekend, but Crystal's making so much yummy food.  I'll just be careful about how much I eat.  No stuffing my face.  But yeah, I can't wait to see Crystal because she's just like the coolest person I've met this year.  I think it's going to be a really fun weekend.  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-93222486?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93222486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/93222486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_20_archive.html#93222486' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92968405</id><published>2003-04-21T00:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-21T00:54:49.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel crappy.  Everything is falling apart.  Sometimes I feel thirty years old.  Tonight was one of those times.  I felt like a thirty year old stuck in high school.  And that just doesn't work.  There are some things you just don't do.  Or maybe &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; just don't do them.  I just feel like some people don't truly understand what respect means.  It doesn't matter how you feel if you don't show that through your actions.  You can't say you respect someone but then call her room for an hour in the middle of the night because your friend needs a place to sleep.  Maybe you should think about that earlier.  Like when she tell you that she's going to sleep?  Maybe that's when you should call it a night and send your friend back to her room to sleep.  You're already inconveniencing someone else with your guest.  You don't wake her up in the middle of the night.  It's just not respectful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are things I'll take blame for.  When I do something wrong, I will take the responsibility for what I've done.  But this weekend was completely out of my hands.  But then I was blamed anyway.  In fact, it was "everyone's fault".  Please.  If you want to stay in my room, I'm not going to say no because I'm not a bitch.  But don't even try blaming me for being pissed when it doesn't work out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else annoys me?  I don't like being hugged when I'm not in a good mood.  I think that's pretty normal.  That doesn't mean that I'm pissed at you.  It means that I don't want a fucking hug.  Is that a crime?  I'm sorry.  I'm not a touchy-feely person.  I don't like pretending to be happy.  Don't assume that you can tell that I'm mad at you but then later claim that something is not your fault because you're not a "mind-reader".  You can't use that excuse because obviously you think you are because you were convinced I was angry with you even though I never said that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really excited about going to Orlando this weekend.  Now what am I supposed to do?  I still really want to go.  I'm not going to see Crystal for the rest of the summer.  This is my only chance to see her before I go home, but I guess my feelings are being ignored again.  Whatever.  As long as I'm still welcome, I'll be in Orlando for reading days.  I'm done worrying about other people's feelings especially when they could care less about mine.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92968405?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92968405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92968405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_20_archive.html#92968405' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92957012</id><published>2003-04-20T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-20T20:53:53.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm broken.  I have bruises all over my body, and my stomach muscles no longer work.  Oops.  I think I overdid it on the slip-and-slide yesterday.  That was pretty fuckin' unbelievable.  I met a lot of new cool folks at Jenn's party, and I got wasted.  It was awesome.  Basically, it was the best party of the year.  There was a slip-and-slide, pools, paddle ball, squirt guns, dogs, fried turkey, bubbles, beer, and some serious amounts of liquor!  Today I got up at 4pm.  Mostly because I couldn't move.  Damn my anemia...  :)  Stan, Alex, and I went to Moon for dinner, so that was good.  Yummmm...  Now we're just chillin' in my room.  I should probably do some work, but I haven't really gotten that motivated yet.  Maybe I should work on that...  Or not.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92957012?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92957012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92957012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_20_archive.html#92957012' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92856193</id><published>2003-04-18T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-18T15:44:34.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thank God it's Friday.  I sang at masterclass today.  It was not that helpful, but whatever.  I think I sounded pretty good.  I have to go to two recitals today because I haven't been to enough this semester.  I'm going to one at 5pm and then another at 8pm with Stanley.  Hopefully, they won't be that long.  Then tonight I'm going to the Earth Alert party at the Rat for a while.  Last night I made the best mix, and I'm going to give it to Crystal when I go up to visit with Luis.  I hope she likes it.  I'm always afraid other people won't like the music I like.  Saturday I'm going to the all day party at Jenn's house.  I'm really excited!  I'm just going to get wasted or something.  I'm supposed to make puppy chow, so I have to go to get ingredients at some point.  But oh well.  Time to go listen to people sing.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92856193?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92856193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92856193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92856193' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92824975</id><published>2003-04-18T01:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-18T01:40:39.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Made myself sick eating.  Dammit.  It's taking a lot to keep myself from just going to the bathroom and throwing up because I feel so sick.  I'm nipping this in the bud.  I need to start writing again or making mixes or whatever.  Anything is better than eating when I'm upset.  Anyway, I'm off to bed.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92824975?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92824975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92824975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92824975' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92817887</id><published>2003-04-17T22:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-17T22:55:13.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I went to the support group meeting.  I didn't know what to say though.  Maybe next year I'll bring up my issues which I haven't even figured out how to put into words yet.  All I know is something's not quite right, and I should work on that.  Sometimes I'm just sad for no reason.  Or maybe I know the reason, but I just don't understand it.  Does that make sense?  Probably not, but whatever.  Hopefully this summer will be relaxing because I think I need a nice long break.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92817887?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92817887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92817887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92817887' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92764605</id><published>2003-04-17T01:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-17T01:47:18.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, the joys of drinking on a Wednesday night at 2 in the morning...  Courtney and I went for an adventure to Hialeah this evening.  She needed to pick up her paycheck at Friday's and her lesbian co-worker Julia was supposed to be working, so she was going to introduce us.  But that didn't work because she wasn't there.  Boo.  Oh well.  We went shopping instead.  I spent oodles of money, but it was fun, so it's all good.  Then we went to Walmart and got junk food and stole a 25 oz. Foster's.  We just finished splitting it, and I'm working on page 7 of my term paper for musicology.  I don't think I'm going to be able to come up with anything profound right now because I'm having a hard enough time typing this.  :)  Hehe.  But yeah.  Roommate bonding = good!  Especially when it involves beer and country music.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92764605?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92764605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92764605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92764605' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92721212</id><published>2003-04-16T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-16T10:52:53.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Last night was a very unproductive night.  Oops.  I got back from choir at 9:30 or so, and then I talked to Crystal and some other people for like three hours.  I didn't even open my paper.  Hehe.  Well, I guess I'll have to get crackin' on that tonight.  I've been back on points since Monday, so I'm doing really well.  I've lost all but one of the pounds I had gained over the two weeks of Tostitos Gold and salsa.  It must have been like water weight or something.  But yeah, I'm excited because I'm semi-skinny again.  :)  Anyhoo, I need to get over to the office and get some lunch.  Yummm...  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92721212?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92721212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92721212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92721212' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92665098</id><published>2003-04-15T13:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-15T13:37:17.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My studio recital went pretty well last night.  Stanley and Luis came which made me feel better about it.  It's nice to have friendly faces in the audience.  I don't really remember anything about how I sounded.  I was too nervous to bother with memory.  :)  I went to the e-board meeting dressed as a mom going to Easter Mass, and I got to train for my secretary position by taking the minutes.  Fun, fun, fun.  I just sent them out to everyone.  I'm soooo excited about next year.  I'm going to put my obsessive-compulsive tendencies to work.  I totally didn't work on my paper last night even though I was supposed to.  I ended up talking to Crystal for a really long time.  What a cool girl.  I can't wait to go up and visit her the weekend after next over reading days.  We're going to have so much fun.  Yay for awesome people.  I'm chillin' in the office right now attempting to be productive and listening to Michelle Branch.  I have to go to musicology in a bit and try really hard to stay awake, but then I'm free.  Tonight I really need to get working on my paper.  I want to turn it in on Thursday.  Which means only two more nights to research for and write at least 7 more pages.  Boo.  Well, I'm going to let Christopher use the computer.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92665098?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92665098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92665098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92665098' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92544679</id><published>2003-04-13T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-13T17:06:47.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I went to the AIDS walk.  It was pretty decent considering I had to get up at seven in the morning.  Blah.  It was me, Luis, Alex, Stanley, Joanna, Katie, Charlie, and two of Charlie's friends.  We went to Denny's afterwards, and I just came back to the dorms.  I've been here ever since.  I worked on my paper for a bit.  I've got like two pages so far, but I've got so much more to write.  I downloaded a lot more music.  Some of it's for the paper, but mostly just stuff I wanted to listen to.  Chris' friend Nick is here visiting, so him and Courtney and I have been chillin' in the room just talking and stuff.  Chris just got down here, and they're cuddling.  Awwww...  Tomorrow I have a math test, so I should probably study for that or something.  Oh well.  I'm sleepy.  Oh yeah, my studio recital is tomorrow too.  Yuck.  I don't want to sing in front of people tomorrow.  I look like a tomato.  That's just not attractive.  Damn the man.  Well, I'm gonna go do something to keep myself awake.    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92544679?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92544679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92544679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92544679' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92521537</id><published>2003-04-13T02:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-13T02:28:12.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I should be asleep.  I haven't slept yet since my passed-out-ness last night.  I'm incredibly sunburned from the picnic.  It's ridiculous.  Today was pretty chill.  I ended up going to the library to get some books to research for my musicology paper, and then I went up and chatted with Jarrod for a bit since I had left my phone up in his room.  When I came back, there was a message from Nicole about coming over and trying to illegally record Helter Skelter for her again.  So I packed up all my library books and headed over to Hecht.  We both just listened to music and worked while the movie recorded.  Melissa came by eventually, and then we all went to Eckerd to pick up pictures from last night.  They were hilarious!  A bunch of people ended up in Melissa's room, and everyone played Caneopoly.  I was the banker.  Monopoly and I are not friends.  It brings out the worst in me.  :)  So yeah, Jarrod took over the entire board with millions of little hotels.  Melissa owned like two things, so she became DJ and played Adam Sandler stuff that cracked me up.  Laura plotted on who she would try to make win with her influence.  And Nicole just went crazy.  Too little sleep will do that to a person, but hey, it was absolutely hilarious.  So here I am.  In my room.  And I'm supposed to wake up in 3 1/2 hours to be in the AIDS walk.  Hmmm...  I'm wondering how that's going to work.  Should be interesting.  Oh well.  Maybe I should call it a night since I'm not really even doing anything productive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92521537?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92521537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92521537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_13_archive.html#92521537' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92494110</id><published>2003-04-12T13:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-12T13:33:20.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Interesting weekend so far.  Last night was insane.  I went to Jarrod's room for like a little drinking party thing.  I was pleasantly surprised that he actually invited me.  I proceeded to get wasted on not that much alcohol.  There was a lot of making out and hickey giving, but thankfully I wasn't involved in that.  There was a lot of drama that went right over my head because I lost my ability to have abstract thought.  Although I did sit against the door with Jarrod for a while crying.  Oops.  Apparently, in our drunken stupor we decided that we missed each other.  Basically, it was a weird night, but not bad, just weird.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the S.E.W. picnic on the Mahoney-Pearson volleyball courts.  Courtney and I woke up late, but we still managed to get to Sam's Club and back in time.  No one really showed up until like noon anyway.  But it was fun.  We all talked about our debauchery from the night before and just chilled and ate food.  I actually feel kinda sick.  I think I ate too many cheese balls.    But damn, those things were good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I think I'm going to work on my term paper because I need to get that done and turn it in early.  That way I get extra credit, and my 64 on that last test won't matter.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92494110?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92494110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92494110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92494110' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92376521</id><published>2003-04-10T13:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-10T13:58:32.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, well, well.  I fell asleep last night at a little past nine.  It was obsene.  No one should go to bed that early EVER.  It's just too depressing.  To me, it signals that I need to get a life.  Although I do have a lot more friends this semester than last.  Plus, I haven't watched the WB Friday in a loooong time.  That used to be my Friday night activity.  That and Lifetime movies until Courtney got back from work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer is going to be weird.  Hopefully, I'll do better with holding onto my college friends.  Last summer was probably unique in its suckiness, but hell what do I know?  I need to get a job that pays well.  I hate depending on my mom for money.  Since she doesn't want me to get a job with the amount of school credits I have, then I'd like to at least try to pay for myself with my own money.  We'll see how that works out...  She mentioned taking a class at Nashville Tech or something, and I think it would be cool to do that with her.  My mom and I have a strange bond.  She doesn't know everything about me, but we still enjoy spending time together.  Then hopefully I'll hang out with my high school friends.  That's always fun.  We're a strange group, and we get stranger after each year of college.  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have to get to class.  I have musicology in ten minutes.  Woo woo.  Time to go drool on my notes.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92376521?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92376521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92376521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92376521' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92309433</id><published>2003-04-09T14:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-10T13:46:22.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So today is the National Day of Silence, which is cool.  It's weird how much people bond over the fact that they can't speak.  We had a lot of fun in the breezeway today while we were tabling.  I got to work out my triceps for a bit by holding up our sign.  :)  I'm supposed to go to kickboxing in like an hour, and I'm going to, but I'm really frickin' tired.  Courtney and I went to bed at like 3:30am because we were watching Rain Man.  That movie is sooooo good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooo, I registered today.  I got all the classes I wanted.  Luis and I are supposed to be taking Cultural Anthropology together, and I might be taking The American Presidency with David.  Yay for having people I know in my classes.  I missed all of Bio though.  I was going to be like 15 minutes late, so I figured it wasn't really worth it.  Besides, I can always mooch off the people I sit next to when I do go.  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm meeting Patty at 6pm in Foster to practice again.  My lesson is tomorrow, so we've got to be really prepared.  I'm hoping I can get his piece memorized or something by tonight.  I told him that it's not that I don't want to sing it.  It's that I have a phobia of high notes.  It's just scary to sing up that high.  But for all of you who are reading this and have nothing to do on next Monday night.  Come see my concert at 8pm in Broby.  I'll make sure I'm on early, so that all you e-board members can come and still make the meeting at 9pm.  :)  So no excuses!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm on a food regimen now.  Courtney basically picked out what I'm eating today because I just can't seem to stick with my plan.  I really want to be at goal by the end of the semester, and that's just not going to happen if I keep chowing down on whole bags of Tostitos Gold.  I have negative points for this week at this point.  Dammit.  I have no self-control.  Well, at least today's cardio-kickboxing class will help out.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92309433?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92309433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92309433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92309433' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92263857</id><published>2003-04-08T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-08T22:05:22.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Damn, I'm hungry.  But no eating.  I am already went over for today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick and I practiced his piece, and it's coming along.  It's just really hard.  But I should be able to get it by Monday.  I also have a sightsinging test tomorrow in Ear Training at 10am, and then I register at 1pm (which means I'm missing some of Bio).  Oh, and don't forget I'm not talking all day for the National Day of Silence.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...  Maybe I should watch a movie or something for a bit.  I've got nothing better to do.  And If I go to bed now that would be like 10 hours of sleep, and that's just obscene.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92263857?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92263857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92263857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92263857' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92210214</id><published>2003-04-08T03:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-08T16:27:22.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why am I still awake?  I went to the e-board meeting, and then I took a quick trip to the c-store before going back to my room where I determined I was hungry.  So obviously, I made Stanley walk with me back to the c-store and the architecture studio to visit Nicole.  I finally came back to my room to study theory, but I finished doing that over an hour ago, and yet I'm still awake.  Courtney and Bobbo are watching Dead Poets Society, and it should be over in like an hour.  But by then, it'll be almost six.  To stay up or not to stay up...  Hmmmm...  I really should get some sleep so that my voice doesn't die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Monday is my studio recital, and I'm supposed to be able to perform two pieces.  Yikes.  I'm so not ready.  Oops.  Definitely need to get a'memorizin'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've also determined that I can't really eat tomorrow based on what I ate tonight after midnight.  I only have like a third of my points left for the entire day.  That's no good.  I need to STOP eating randomly.  I guess that gives me two goals...  1. Get attention span.  2. Become anorexic.  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92210214?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92210214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92210214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92210214' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92166320</id><published>2003-04-07T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-08T16:23:41.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>La la la la.  Today was the beginning of Spring Education Week (S.E.W.), and I tabled with Luis today.  I need to learn how to hold grudges.  I have no fucking attention span.  Oh well.  Luis asked me if I still want to go to Orlando this weekend.  And I do, but only because I'd like to see Crystal.  I don't want to put myself in a situation where I'll be frustrated with him and stuck in a car.  That's just not a good plan.  I'm not actively pissed or anything, but I'm still going to need some time.  I guess we'll see when the weekend comes around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to get started on my two term papers (for musicology and for comparative politics).  I totally bombed my last musicology exam, so I need to turn the term paper in early, so I can get extra credit.  Otherwise, I'm just screwed.  At least there's only three weeks left in school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the quote of the day...&lt;br /&gt;Courtney: My roommate likes your taste in music.&lt;br /&gt;Guy Courtney is going to have sex with (Kevin): Isn't she gay?&lt;br /&gt;What does &lt;b&gt;that&lt;/b&gt; mean?  People are so retarded it's almost funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going to get started on some work.  Must be productive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92166320?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92166320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92166320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92166320' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5251815.post-92093704</id><published>2003-04-06T11:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-08T16:23:52.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I've decided to start a new online journal thingie.  Now that I have my computer back, it's the logical thing to do.  My alarm just went off because I'm supposed to be getting up right now, but I haven't slept yet.  So that's interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I realized that I definitely haven't moved past things I thought I had.  I was actually really surprised to see my reaction to the situation I was put in.  Basically, I've come to the conclusion that I'm crazy.  Maybe I'll never be normal again after all the shit that's happened to me, but really I don't ever remember being any different.  I guess everything just started out shitty like in high school and stuff, so it's just gonna stay shitty for a while.  I hate feeling weak like this.  Last night I felt totally out of control of my brain.  I just couldn't stop thinking, so I couldn't sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am.  Still awake and wondering what to make of all of this.  Maybe this prohibition will go on forever.  I mean, I made this decision not to get involved physically (in anyway) with someone until I was serious with them for a reason.  I'm interested in someone, but people keep telling me that I should move on because "it's never going to happen."  Which is entirely possible, but I don't know if I'm willing to just give up.  I mean, it's not like I'm actively pursuing anything anyway.  I'm just open to the option.  But I'm open to other options too.  It's the end of the semester anyway.  Mostly, I'm just trying to make it through another month of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of going to a support group meeting next Thursday, but can I really bring my stupid issues up in front of people I hardly know?  And in front of the people I do know?  I'm afraid it'll be too awkward, and I'll just chicken out.  That's probably exactly what will happen.  There's always next semester.  I mean, my craziness isn't going anywhere.  Unfortunately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think it's about time for a shower.  Maybe that'll wake me up.  Most likely it'll put me too sleep.  I wonder if I could fall asleep standing up.  Guess I'll go find out.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5251815-92093704?l=twitterpated.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92093704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5251815/posts/default/92093704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twitterpated.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92093704' title=''/><author><name>Cate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16586061696131286464</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
