<?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-3539000704216135479</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:28:50.279-04:00</updated><category term='T'/><title type='text'>the dashboard of my life</title><subtitle type='html'>I write because I need to.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>145</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7836389569383589737</id><published>2011-11-07T22:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T22:44:44.518-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because no one else would listen.</title><content type='html'>Lately, I've felt like no matter who I talk to, they just wish I'd go away. I feel that, if I start to talk about the things that are bothering me, they'll get annoyed. I'm worried that something is seriously wrong with me, and I don't know how to fix it. And no one seems to care(aside from the tim) I keep finding myself in these bizarre bouts of sadness for no reason at all, and no matter what I do, I can't get out. &lt;br /&gt;The only thing\person that makes me happy is on the other side of the world, and all I want to do is go back there, where I was happy all the time. I hate feeling like nothing is ever going my way, like the whole world is against me. &lt;br /&gt;I hate feeling like my best friend is completely annoyed by me, and doesn't want to spend time with me anymore. I'm sure he isn't, but I can't help but feel he's avoiding me. &lt;br /&gt;I keep letting myself get hurt by little things that I'm sure mean nothing, like not being invited somewhere. Or being invited somewhere out of pity, when in reality I wasn't actually being invited to go, it was just go cover up the fact that I wasn't invited. It's stupid, and I know it is, but I can't stop letting things like that bring me down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't talk to anyone about it, because no one will listen, or no one cares. That's not true, I have one person to talk about it with, but again, he's always asleep when this stuff happens. I'm always happy when I'm talking to him, or waiting for him to come online. But as soon as he's gone, and I've been on my own for a while... the sad just creeps up on me. I hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no job, no money, no car, a boyfriend who lives in another country, friends who I feel like can't be bothered, a mother who won't get off my case, and a loneliness that follows me around poking me every time there's an opportunity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But instead of feeling sorry for myself all the time, like I have been... I've decided to put together a list of all of the things that I should be grateful for, because they always keep me happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the list of happy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;-Tim. No matter what's happening, or who is bothering me, he always always makes me happy. He's the reason behind every one of my smiles&lt;br /&gt;-He's coming to visit in 40 days&lt;br /&gt;-It's almost Christmas&lt;br /&gt;-Soon enough, I'll be going back to England&lt;br /&gt;-I'm starting to draw more&lt;br /&gt;-I'm teaching myself how to be better at photography&lt;br /&gt;-I've lost weight, which is a big thing for me cause i'm a fatty fat fatty. &lt;br /&gt;-There's a cup of tea brewing with my name on it.&lt;br /&gt;-Things have been worse, and I know that no matter how bad things get, I'll never be that sad again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be going through a tough time right now, and even though I feel like it'll never end, I know it will. And there's always something that will make me smile, be it a sweet text from tim in the morning, or a crisp fall afternoon walk. There's always a reason to smile, and I guess I just have to suck it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheer up and dry your damp eyes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7836389569383589737?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7836389569383589737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7836389569383589737' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7836389569383589737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7836389569383589737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2011/11/because-no-one-else-would-listen.html' title='Because no one else would listen.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5738427573283234147</id><published>2011-05-07T11:13:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T11:18:16.281-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I've abandoned you.</title><content type='html'>But, that won't be the case for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I do have lots to say, I don't have much time to say any of it just now, but I will say these things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have moved from Canada to England.&lt;br /&gt;I moved here for love.&lt;br /&gt;It was the best decision I have ever made.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I miss home.&lt;br /&gt;Everything here is so beautiful, and new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy, and content, and I get excited to wake up in the morning cause I know I won't be alone anymore. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you've ever been in love, and I don't know what your story was, but if you have been in love then you know(or at least, kind of) how I feel. Everything is brighter, I'm happier, things have a better meaning, I'm no longer lonely. &lt;br /&gt;I'm still me, just better. &lt;br /&gt;If you've never been in love, don't be sad... there will be a time when someone loves you more than anything in this whole world. And when they do, and when you love them back, everything that has ever confused you will make sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I bid you adieu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5738427573283234147?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5738427573283234147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5738427573283234147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5738427573283234147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5738427573283234147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2011/05/ive-abandoned-you.html' title='I&apos;ve abandoned you.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5428413117107135086</id><published>2011-02-09T13:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T13:28:16.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in other news.</title><content type='html'>i have a &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://raspburryb.tumblr.com"&gt;tumblr&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; that I use sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5428413117107135086?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5428413117107135086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5428413117107135086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5428413117107135086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5428413117107135086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2011/02/in-other-news.html' title='in other news.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8747010091395471332</id><published>2011-02-09T13:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T13:25:38.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well I'm so proud tonight, of the woman you've beome.</title><content type='html'>3 years ago:&lt;br /&gt;I was the kind of girl who just didn't care. I was lost, I was broken, and I was miserable. I pretended like I was fine, but don't we all? I was tired of being me. I spent most of my time alone, and nothing doing anything productive. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I hated that. I thought for some reason that it would ruin me. That I would fail, if I didn't figure it out, and soon. I would look in the mirror and be absolutely disgusted with what I saw. I hated everything about me. I was young and lonely. It was like someone took a puzzle and threw the pieces everywhere and they were impossible to find. So when I was trying to put me together, nothing would work right.  &lt;br /&gt;three years ago I gave up on trying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today:&lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who cares a lot more. I have been found, reassembled, and I feel genuinely happy 99% of the time. There's no more pretending, I just am. I still spend a lot of time alone, but I'm okay with it. I find something productive to do. I read more, I've started drawing more, I have a journal that keeps all the rambles of my creativity. I still don't know what exactly I want to do with my life, but I'm okay with not knowing. I like the mystery, and I like knowing that I have the capability to choose anything. I'm not afraid of falling. I have fallen, and I found someone who took the word love, and made it more than a word. They made it a feeling. I spent the time I needed carefully looking for the puzzle pieces that I needed to complete me. With a lot of help from someone who was a piece of me without me knowing, I found all of those pieces. I can now look and the mirror and appreciate what I see. While I may not always be a fan, I appreciate it. And I know that in my own way, I am beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;Today I have the pieces, and I'll spend the rest of my life enjoying putting them together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8747010091395471332?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8747010091395471332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8747010091395471332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8747010091395471332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8747010091395471332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2011/02/well-im-so-proud-tonight-of-woman-youve.html' title='Well I&apos;m so proud tonight, of the woman you&apos;ve beome.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1224648627454909468</id><published>2011-01-15T00:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T00:51:16.855-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've started a journal.</title><content type='html'>I picked up a notebook... or 6, and I've decided I'm going to do a project. I've been feeling rather lazy lately. &lt;br /&gt;Not lazy in a 'i don't do anything' kind of way, because I still do things. Not much mind you, but I don't just sit on my ass all day! &lt;br /&gt;Lazy in the kind of way, where I don't do anything creative anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I don't draw.&lt;br /&gt;I don't paint.&lt;br /&gt;I don't sketch. &lt;br /&gt;I don't design. &lt;br /&gt;I don't play. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm afraid that if I let it go for too long, I'll be dull. I lose my creativity, and I'll lose one of the parts of me I like best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is where the journal comes in. &lt;br /&gt;Everyday, I will write something. Whether it be an idea I plan on doing, or a thought that passes through my mind.  Ideas for drawings, updates on how it's going, things I've dreamed, memories, plans, anything. &lt;br /&gt;Anything but an update of my day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let it begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1224648627454909468?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1224648627454909468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1224648627454909468' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1224648627454909468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1224648627454909468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2011/01/ive-started-journal.html' title='I&apos;ve started a journal.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7235089595655960941</id><published>2010-11-29T22:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T22:06:41.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>charleston chews.</title><content type='html'>they're delicious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7235089595655960941?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7235089595655960941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7235089595655960941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7235089595655960941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7235089595655960941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/11/charleston-chews.html' title='charleston chews.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8187912858867180202</id><published>2010-11-29T21:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T21:59:03.101-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tonight I cried so hard I couldn't breathe, because I thought I was about to lose someone I couldn't stand losing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since that happened, and it was unpleasant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8187912858867180202?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8187912858867180202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8187912858867180202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8187912858867180202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8187912858867180202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/11/tonight-i-cried-so-hard-i-couldnt.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8563222872022321101</id><published>2010-11-01T10:48:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T14:16:11.423-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady in a Dragon Sweater</title><content type='html'>I do not like the viscosity of pudding, but I like the taste(usually), it causes many a problem. I find that happens a lot, in which I don't like the texture of something, but I love the taste. Then I just usually don't eat it. &lt;br /&gt;I don't like it when things feel weird in my mouth(twss). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a vacation from the wind and the rain. I want more sunshine. When I wake up in the morning I was to see happiness in the skies. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain, and I love cloudy days. But this is just getting boring. I'm too happy for these gloomy days.&lt;br /&gt;It's almost winter, the days are getting shorter, the nights are getting colder, and I really need a hug to keep me warm. &lt;br /&gt;Volunteers? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have officially started a countdown. I'm going to vist a few friends in the neighboring province which I've known about since the summer, and now as it's only about a month away, I feel like I can count down. &lt;br /&gt;I'll be leaving my peaceful, little, boring island life of solitude for 4 whole days of Nova Sco-tee-ah. Full of friends, laughs, and hardly any sleep. I'm excited to make this journey all by myself. 4 hours of driving all alone, with my music, my thoughts, no one to bother me. It will be lovely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you I'm moving to England? No? Well I am. I'm hoping to get into a school there to study photography, but if I don't get in I'll go anyway. I'll find work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a Dalmatian.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8563222872022321101?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8563222872022321101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8563222872022321101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8563222872022321101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8563222872022321101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/11/lady-in-dragon-sweater.html' title='Lady in a Dragon Sweater'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5456532414028933737</id><published>2010-10-18T09:40:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T09:49:36.351-03:00</updated><title type='text'>unknown</title><content type='html'>but it was not your fault but mine&lt;br /&gt;and it was your heart on the line&lt;br /&gt;I really fucked it up this time&lt;br /&gt;didn't I, my dear?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5456532414028933737?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5456532414028933737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5456532414028933737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5456532414028933737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5456532414028933737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/10/but-it-was-not-your-fault-but-mine-and.html' title='unknown'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5133783955533664491</id><published>2010-09-05T12:46:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T14:56:20.554-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Without Much Regard To The Moon</title><content type='html'>Or the stars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thinking&lt;/strong&gt;: Something I haven't been doing a lot of, until lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the whole summer lounging about, spending my days at the beach, or reading, painting, drawing, you name it. &lt;br /&gt;Which, aside from the never having money to do anything of any substance was quite splendid. &lt;br /&gt;Now, the summer is almost over, and I've been working full time for about a month. The money is lovely, incredible actually, but I have less time for me. &lt;br /&gt;Less time to explore the very depths of my own mind, less time to go to Narnia, or Camp Half-Blood. &lt;br /&gt;Less time to draw myself new places to visit, new identities, new creatures.&lt;br /&gt;Less time to work on the only tan I've had since I was 6 years old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I LOVE working, I really do. I work in a bookshop, and for an avid reader, it's glorious to get to interact, and discuss what you've read(or are reading) with people for hours on end. &lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm getting paid for book club. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;School&lt;/strong&gt;: I think I graduated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've successfully complete 2 years of school, and graduated with pretty good grades, and a diploma in something I'm not even using. &lt;br /&gt;Now, it's not that I'm &lt;em&gt;bad&lt;/em&gt; at what I learned, it's just I don't think I'm that &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;My parents tell me I'm great, but I'm a bit skeptical at believing them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But questioning my skills aside, I've been thinking that I want to do more. I want to &lt;em&gt;learn&lt;/em&gt; more, and &lt;em&gt;see&lt;/em&gt; more. &lt;br /&gt;Do I go back into chemistry like I had originally planned?&lt;br /&gt;Or, do I continue along the route of art? I've been thinking a lot about Art History, or just history in general. While they both intrigue me, I have absolutely no idea what one would do with a major in Art History. &lt;br /&gt;And the more I think about it, the more I fear that I'm not cut out for anything, and I'm destined to be stuck on the Island, working in the bookshop for the rest of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Travel&lt;/strong&gt;: I really need to get out more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a curious, 21 year old girl with an interest in photography. I like to see the world the way it was meant to be seen, tragic, and beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Saying that, I feel like I haven't seen enough of the world. I've been out of Canada one time, which for a girl who lives in a community where everyone knows everyone else it was absolutely incredible!&lt;br /&gt;I liked not knowing where I was going, who I was going to meet, or what I would see. I want more of that. I want more of &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/raspberryberet/2950938240/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;People&lt;/strong&gt;: Sometimes I like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends are all of back to university, and I'm here left alone. I bet you're probably thinking "stupid girl, stop complaining", but I don't like being alone. I never really have. I mean, I like having time to myself, but I like it when my friends are around when I need them to be and such. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I've been talking to someone, with whom I lost touch with for a while. Not that it was wanted, but things happen and days pass by. Unconnected. &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever known exactly how you feel about someone, but could never put words to it? I'm having this dilemma right now. Just knowing this person exists, brightens my day. I've been sat here for 20 minutes trying to find words to describe how fond I am of this person, but it's hard. They can make me smile when everything is falling to bits, and I find it very difficult to have a conversation with them without giggling uncontrollably. And when they say Hi to me, I light up. &lt;br /&gt;I only wish they could see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one more thing about people, I've finally managed to get over it. &lt;br /&gt;It took me longer than I wanted, but it's over, and I'm okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Myself&lt;/strong&gt;: silly girl with too much time on her hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without getting too much into it, I had the idea not long ago where I was boring. &lt;br /&gt;I thought about getting into some bad things to 'spice' up my life, if you will. &lt;br /&gt;I've gotten past it, and have decided that even if I am boring, then I'm okay with it. &lt;br /&gt;My life may be monotonous at times, but it is just that, &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; life.&lt;br /&gt;So I should probably learn to enjoy it eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while, I hope to see you around more often&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trouble is a friend, but trouble is a foe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5133783955533664491?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5133783955533664491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5133783955533664491' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5133783955533664491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5133783955533664491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/09/without-much-regard-to-moon.html' title='Without Much Regard To The Moon'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1483279110215958600</id><published>2010-08-19T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T23:00:01.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet again</title><content type='html'>While I hate to admit it, I feel as though I'm being replaced... again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1483279110215958600?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1483279110215958600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1483279110215958600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1483279110215958600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1483279110215958600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/08/yet-again.html' title='Yet again'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2088213565392408582</id><published>2010-07-03T10:28:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T01:37:22.868-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A challenge of sorts.</title><content type='html'>So, I decided to do the '30 letter' challenge thing. &lt;br /&gt;Though, let's be honest here, I most definitely will not get one in every day. &lt;br /&gt;I'll likely start a new blog, as I don't want to clutter up this one with emotional and messed up letters to people in my life. &lt;br /&gt;There's a list as to who you're writing too, and I'm going to follow the list, but I'm not going to specify which letter was which, I'm not going to name any names, and mostly it'll just be for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if you're interested in reading them, you can find them &lt;a href="http://cinematic-eyes.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be updating them as often as I feel like, and when they're done, I may use that blog for more challenges along the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts: b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it'll probably be dark when me meet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2088213565392408582?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2088213565392408582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2088213565392408582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2088213565392408582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2088213565392408582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/07/challenge-of-sorts.html' title='A challenge of sorts.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6228315412535951577</id><published>2010-06-13T21:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:44:38.744-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Living is easy with eyes closed.</title><content type='html'>The first of the year I wrote a list of ten things I wanted to do in 2010. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've accomplished enough of that list to go through, and see what I have and have not done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Finish School- Check&lt;br /&gt;9. Sort Things Out - Check&lt;br /&gt;8.Draw at least one picture per week. Check(sofar)&lt;br /&gt;7. Pack up and leave - NOTcheck&lt;br /&gt;6. Own that Buzz Lightyear toy. NOTcheck&lt;br /&gt;5. Go back to America - NOTcheck&lt;br /&gt;4. Save money for things such as 5 and 6.&lt;br /&gt;3. Learn how to play Guitar0 - Working on it&lt;br /&gt;3.5 get over the fact that my hands are too small for such actitivies. - Dealing&lt;br /&gt;2. Watch more foreign films. -Check&lt;br /&gt;1. Love. -Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while there were a couple things on the list that I didn't think were possible.&lt;br /&gt;6 months to finish the rest, I think I can manage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it strange, how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6228315412535951577?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6228315412535951577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6228315412535951577' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6228315412535951577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6228315412535951577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/06/living-is-easy-with-eyes-closed.html' title='Living is easy with eyes closed.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5972486217403916113</id><published>2010-06-03T01:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T01:16:02.824-03:00</updated><title type='text'>BRB</title><content type='html'>I would explain,&lt;br /&gt;And I really would love too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just, I'm too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, you probably aren't interested anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5972486217403916113?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5972486217403916113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5972486217403916113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5972486217403916113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5972486217403916113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/06/brb.html' title='BRB'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1741167930482592427</id><published>2010-05-20T00:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T00:03:50.647-03:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled.</title><content type='html'>I hate it when people become really big assholes all of a sudden for no reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1741167930482592427?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1741167930482592427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1741167930482592427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1741167930482592427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1741167930482592427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/05/untitled.html' title='untitled.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-184575231233169693</id><published>2010-05-05T23:03:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T23:05:47.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Stop Believing.</title><content type='html'>Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and me babe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How 'bout it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-184575231233169693?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/184575231233169693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=184575231233169693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/184575231233169693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/184575231233169693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/05/dont-stop-believing.html' title='Don&apos;t Stop Believing.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1642007714609752805</id><published>2010-04-20T21:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T21:45:30.224-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting with Time and Space.</title><content type='html'>I'm done with lyrics, with cryptic. &lt;br /&gt;All I want is the beauty that things can really be. &lt;br /&gt;It seems that I've been too busy covering my eyes, my mind, and my imagintation.&lt;br /&gt;Now, nothing is the way I wanted it to have been. &lt;br /&gt;The violin has been playing, &lt;br /&gt;You and I both know, it's never been something you've enjoyed. &lt;br /&gt;Frankly, there's something else we both know.&lt;br /&gt;You're just unwilling to admit to it, And hold on to a future unseen. &lt;br /&gt;I've been where you haven't, you're going where I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;The new land is calling, &lt;br /&gt;and the reply has been sent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1642007714609752805?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1642007714609752805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1642007714609752805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1642007714609752805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1642007714609752805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/04/fighting-with-time-and-space.html' title='Fighting with Time and Space.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2795361844288130384</id><published>2010-04-18T11:32:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T12:25:56.260-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And, I've got some favourite things.</title><content type='html'>Alana from &lt;a href="http://red-beret.blogspot.com/2010/04/today-isnt-such-bad-day.html"&gt;THISBLOGOFWONDER&lt;/a&gt; asked some questions, and since I ramble, I made it a post. &lt;br /&gt;She's awesome. &lt;br /&gt;These are my answers. &lt;br /&gt;that is all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Song:&lt;/span&gt;This is hard for me, I have a lot of favourite songs... But I'ma go with 'Moonlight Sonata' Preferably the first movement, but the whole thing radiates a beauty like none other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Place:&lt;/span&gt; The Beach. Always the beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Film:&lt;/span&gt; This is as hard as picking my favourite song, but currently it`s The Pianist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Author:&lt;/span&gt; Steve Berry, for now.            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Book:&lt;/span&gt; This probably makes me hyper lame, but... Moby Dick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Series:&lt;/span&gt; HARRY POTTER. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Month:&lt;/span&gt; May. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Chocolate:&lt;/span&gt;  Cadbury chocolate is godlike. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Person:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Road:&lt;/span&gt; (you don't have to name it, just describe) There's this road that I have to go down to get to my favourite beach. It's a dirt road, and there's farm on either side. Cows are oft near the wooden fence that's falling apart, the sides are lined with Lupins , and it leads to the beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;House:&lt;/span&gt; (doesn't have to be one you've lived in) For me to tell you this you have to understand that PEI has two cities. I live in one for school, and my home is in the other. So anytime I travel from one city to the other I see this house. It's far back from the road, and the drive is roped off. The windows are boarded up, and no one has lived there for as long as I can remember. I want to live there some day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Weather:&lt;/span&gt; Summer rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Season:&lt;/span&gt; Sprin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;City:&lt;/span&gt; New York :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;TV Show:&lt;/span&gt; Heroes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Album:&lt;/span&gt; Currently Vauxhall and I - Morrissey &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Cartoon Character:&lt;/span&gt; Buzz Lightyear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Non-Fiction book:&lt;/span&gt; A Boy Called It. I think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Animal:&lt;/span&gt; Elephants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2795361844288130384?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2795361844288130384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2795361844288130384' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2795361844288130384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2795361844288130384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-ive-got-some-favourite-things.html' title='And, I&apos;ve got some favourite things.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1124560627046249710</id><published>2010-03-29T01:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T01:33:43.637-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And things have changed.</title><content type='html'>I'm not who I was anymore. &lt;br /&gt;I can see things better, and I can't be bothered with pretending anymore. &lt;br /&gt;i'm done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1124560627046249710?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1124560627046249710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1124560627046249710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1124560627046249710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1124560627046249710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/03/and-things-have-changed.html' title='And things have changed.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4783694827870507073</id><published>2010-03-05T05:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T05:23:40.084-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And it doesn't work that way</title><content type='html'>I want to kiss your face a thousand times, and tell you everything will be okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to hug you so tight, so you feel like everything will be okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to hold your hand, so you know everything will be okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as much as I want to... I can't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't mean that you won't be alright, and that doesn't mean you can just give up. &lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful, cheer up. Smile, with that gorgeous smile. And show people that they can't bring you down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll see that life is still worth-while, if you just smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4783694827870507073?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4783694827870507073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4783694827870507073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4783694827870507073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4783694827870507073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/03/and-it-doesnt-work-that-way.html' title='And it doesn&apos;t work that way'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-384699962664420367</id><published>2010-03-02T12:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T13:15:52.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And there was trouble.</title><content type='html'>In my family of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother has hit this stage where he feels like he's the king of the universe. You know, as most 16 year olds do. &lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, apparently last weekend he and my dad had a huge fight. So, brother packed up and went to the lady friends for the night. Thing is, he called home later and informed the parentals that he would not be back. &lt;br /&gt;Ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, until the male parental called and told brother that he wanted him home. &lt;br /&gt;The mother was upset of course, as one could imagine a mother would be hearing such things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I find it hard to take sides in situations like this. Not just because I wasn't there to know exactly what happened. But because, with the father and the brother... you never know who said what, who started it, or who ended it. They're both very stubborn men, and hate to lose. &lt;br /&gt;But, the fact that this even happened worries me. &lt;br /&gt;What happens if dad and brother fight again? What if it's worse? What if brother doesn't come back this time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like sister needs to be there more for brother like I would be if I was around. But sister doesn't care about other peoples problems often, and likes to judge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just needs someone to talk to about things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-384699962664420367?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/384699962664420367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=384699962664420367' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/384699962664420367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/384699962664420367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/03/and-there-was-trouble.html' title='And there was trouble.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1472725323306176722</id><published>2010-02-23T08:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T08:05:16.717-04:00</updated><title type='text'>and it's been 2 days</title><content type='html'>Since I've had some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried what you told me, and it didn't work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll call a doctor. Yes... definitely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you love me let me go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1472725323306176722?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1472725323306176722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1472725323306176722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1472725323306176722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1472725323306176722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-its-been-2-days.html' title='and it&apos;s been 2 days'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7195602119154392489</id><published>2010-02-22T15:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T00:59:34.507-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I can't stop listening.</title><content type='html'>To Nat King Cole. &lt;br /&gt;Just one song in particular. &lt;br /&gt;Smile. I bet you know it. If not, you can find it &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tywcRka8rW0"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even you can't deny it's beautiful. And no matter how much of a bad mood I'm in, it always does make me smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lately I haven't been sleeping. Like, at all. I get about 2-3 hours  of sleep at night.  &lt;br /&gt;This has fucked me over on more than one occasion. I've several friends telling me to go see a doctor, but I just don't want to. &lt;br /&gt;I hate doctors you see. &lt;br /&gt;Bad experiences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile, though your heart is aching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7195602119154392489?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7195602119154392489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7195602119154392489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7195602119154392489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7195602119154392489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-i-cant-stop-listening.html' title='And I can&apos;t stop listening.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3635783757562750923</id><published>2010-02-21T00:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T00:51:48.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I cry everytime.</title><content type='html'>Even though I've seen it like a million times. &lt;br /&gt;Titanic makes me cry every-time the boat sinks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just so sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;  b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3635783757562750923?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3635783757562750923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3635783757562750923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3635783757562750923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3635783757562750923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-i-cry-everytime.html' title='And I cry everytime.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7491273147702409980</id><published>2010-02-17T19:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T19:31:59.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tim Hortons is my love</title><content type='html'>I just trekked for 30 minutes in 3 feet of snow to get a coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addicted? Maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7491273147702409980?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7491273147702409980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7491273147702409980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7491273147702409980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7491273147702409980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/tim-hortons-is-my-love.html' title='Tim Hortons is my love'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-9181617785770232485</id><published>2010-02-16T17:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T17:37:57.781-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And it was.</title><content type='html'>And so he said to me,&lt;br /&gt;'When ever I hear &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXdNnw99-Ic"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt;, I think of you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said,&lt;br /&gt;':)'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-9181617785770232485?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/9181617785770232485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=9181617785770232485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/9181617785770232485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/9181617785770232485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-it-was.html' title='And it was.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1844782661972173508</id><published>2010-02-14T15:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T15:45:13.041-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiiiinnnneees! Tinnnnnneeeeess!</title><content type='html'>So, as most of you probably already know, it's valentines day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentines day and myself have never really been in good company. &lt;br /&gt;(Why yes, I am one of those bitter girls who doesn't enjoy Valentines day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do have a date with Percy Jackson for the rest of the day. I don't care if he's 13, he's bad-ass, and a demi-god. YEAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1844782661972173508?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1844782661972173508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1844782661972173508' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1844782661972173508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1844782661972173508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/tiiiinnnneees-tinnnnnneeeeess.html' title='Tiiiinnnneees! Tinnnnnneeeeess!'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6379053182271678790</id><published>2010-02-07T03:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T03:47:23.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Without mentioning any names.</title><content type='html'>I've always wanted to write a letter to myself at age 12. Normally, it would be done at a more 'life-changing' age, but a lot happens before I turn 16... right so here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becky: Age 12, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, I'm sure you've found out that you made it into band. Don't be scared though, I know you probably feel like you have a lot to live up to after Lindy, but all will be well. In-fact, you'll be a slightly better clarinet player then she ever was. Enjoy that while it lasts. Have fun in band, don't let your shy-ness get the better of you... for it is here, you will meet one of your best friends. Best friends you'll remain for years to come until she moves away. Which, will be hard... but you'll accept it after a while. &lt;br /&gt;Move away from your original circle of friends, they're all going to go down paths you don't want to be on anyway. You'll find new friends. Some good, some bad, and some down right horrible. Try not to think too much of the horrible ones, what's a young girls life if not to have some bad friends right? &lt;br /&gt;Your life is going to pass by pretty pleasantly through Junior High, and you'll enjoy it. So, when it comes time to head to High School, you'll be sad to leave, but happy for your journey ahead. But, this is when it happens. The worst thing you'll ever have to go through no doubt. You won't believe it, in-fact not for a long time.  You'll get sick, you'll get lost, and you'll get found. All will be well. &lt;br /&gt;After that's done and over with, you will meet the three best friends you'll ever have, and ever need. They will save your life, keep you sane, make you smile, and be there when ever you need them. Hold on tight, and never let go of these three. You wouldn't be able to handle it without them. You'll learn to love, and appreciate music more than ever. The being shy thing? That'll go away, just wait. It's not so bad to talk to people. Upon graduation, you'll be heartbroken knowing you can't spend everysingle day in a familiar routine, with the people you've come to rely on... but eventually you will embrace it. University turns out, just isn't your thing, but you'll be okay with that. Art, film, photography, and music will all be the essence of your life. You'll analyze them, make them, create them, and love because of them. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, speaking of live... you'll fall in love three times. Be careful, it'll hurt when your heart breaks, but it's bound to happen. Your first kiss will be a bit awkward cause you'll have no idea what's going on, or what to do. But it will always make you smile. As goes for your first love, even though it didn't work the way you wanted. &lt;br /&gt;You're going to have to hurt someone, and you won't enjoy it one bit. In-fact... it'll hurt you a lot more knowing what it's going to do to them, but it needs to be done. So don't back out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn to accept things, and don't dwell on the past. What's done is done. &lt;br /&gt;You'll work your way through some tough times, and come out with some great friends, good experiences, and a generally good outlook on life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Becky:Age 20&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. Snowboarding? Probably not a good idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S.  He's going to define the word love for you, don't be scared... you never know how it'll end up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6379053182271678790?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6379053182271678790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6379053182271678790' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6379053182271678790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6379053182271678790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/without-mentioning-any-names.html' title='Without mentioning any names.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5253901124759105387</id><published>2010-02-01T13:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T13:59:22.825-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Girl</title><content type='html'>She doesn't have to go to work, &lt;br /&gt;but she doesn't want to stay in bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause it's changed from something comfortable, to something else instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just really tired of all this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5253901124759105387?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5253901124759105387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5253901124759105387' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5253901124759105387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5253901124759105387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/02/stupid-girl.html' title='Stupid Girl'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1330416283154242112</id><published>2010-01-28T03:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T03:49:47.431-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a List</title><content type='html'>No, this time I actually feel as if I have something legit to write. And by 'legit' I mean, not a list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 3:08AM, and for some peculiar reason, I'm wide awake. This could be because I had a nap this afternoon, or it could be because it's way too hot in my room. However, I think it might just be because I've a lot of things on my mind, that my brain won't let go of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And such, with no one to talk to, I've resorted to posting a blog with everything that's on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is fact, not fiction for the first time in years. I don't lie about things ever, but I feel like I've been telling people lies because I believe them to be truths. &lt;br /&gt;Is it really a lie though, if what I'm telling you is something I think with everything that I am is true? Or is it still a lie, if it is in-fact... not the truth?&lt;br /&gt;I don't what I'm saying anymore. To you, to myself, to the world. It doesn't make sense to me anymore. And while at the same time, it all makes sense. And I realize for any unfortunate soul who happens upon reading this, that it won't make any sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this, because I don't get it either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Heart.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     It confuses me daily. My brain knows what it wants, but so does my heart. It's unfortunate really that they aren't the same thing. &lt;br /&gt;conflicts. &lt;br /&gt;I know in my heart I did the right thing, but a part of my brain disagrees. &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had that before? I'm sure you have... it can't just be me right? I hope not. &lt;br /&gt;It's discouraging either way. And nothing good can ever come from a conflict such as that between the brain, and the heart. Which ever one you choose to side with, will end up jumping out of your body, with a knife to go a murder someones feelings. &lt;br /&gt;asshole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;People.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;         My love-hate relationship with people grows each day. Sometimes it's more along the 'love' side. While more often than not it veers toward the 'hate' side. I'd like to be that girl who could accept the way people act, but I can't. &lt;br /&gt;I can't accept that you won't leave me alone. I can't accept that you don't care about what happened. I can't accept that you pretend things are peachy. I can't accept that fact that you don't believe me. I can't accept the fact that you did what you did to me, no matter how great it may be. I can't accept the fact that you said what you did. &lt;br /&gt;Over all. I can't accept you.&lt;br /&gt;Not anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Other People.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;       friends to be more specific. I've got great ones. I've got okay ones. And some that just don't bother. I've friends that I've known my whole life, and friends that I've never actually met before. Allow me to further discuss those friends in which I've never met. &lt;br /&gt;Internet randoms. They're great. In-fact one of my best friends is an internet random. Now, I'm not going to get into the exact details of how we met, but let's just say creeping was involved. And such a friendship blossomed. Okay, so maybe he's a few years younger than me... but he knows a lot more about me than most people. Partially because we've realized we're the same person. Twins if you will. &lt;br /&gt;separated at birth. &lt;br /&gt;a whole ocean of separation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I have other friends. Real friends. Who, though I never ever see anymore. Know me better than anyone. Who I miss terribly when they're gone. But love to be around when we're together. I just miss them a lot. &lt;br /&gt;morethananything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     sweetbabyjesus. Why did i ever decide to do what I'm doing? and when did I think it would be enjoyable? I mean, it's school... and since when has school been anything but crazy? But. Regrets. &lt;br /&gt;regretsregrets. &lt;br /&gt;I've decided though, i'm going to stop wasting my time in unnecessary endeavors upon 'graduation'. And take the time I need to save up money, buy a car, build a decent photographic portfolio, and apply to schools away from here. I've thought about one in Ireland, and one in Michigan. Both would offer me a degree in photography(were I to be accepted), and both offer me the opportunity to be around people I enjoy. &lt;br /&gt;And while Ireland is full of irish people. America is closer to home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dreams. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            and no, not the 'goals' kind. &lt;br /&gt;the type you have when you're asleep. &lt;br /&gt;I've been having the same dream for days now. Now, normally I don't believe all that 'your dreams are telling you something' hullabaloo... but it's been almost a week straight. Each night, I have the same dream. Nothing is different. The clothing worn is the same, the haircut the same, the street names the same, the people, the same. The way things are said. You guessed it. THE SAME. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   So now, when I go to bed, I think about all of those things. And there's much much much more to be said about each, but I've wasted your time long enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Things will get better" i told myself&lt;br /&gt;"No they won't" replied my reflection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1330416283154242112?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1330416283154242112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1330416283154242112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1330416283154242112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1330416283154242112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/not-list.html' title='Not a List'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2362394977193820604</id><published>2010-01-25T12:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T12:35:08.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jammers</title><content type='html'>Of the kool-aid variety. &lt;br /&gt;They were on sale this week, so I picked up a box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I would like to say, that as a 20 year old. I think they're phenomenal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2362394977193820604?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2362394977193820604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2362394977193820604' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2362394977193820604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2362394977193820604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/jammers.html' title='Jammers'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4966655298015284735</id><published>2010-01-20T01:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T02:03:55.808-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2am. really?</title><content type='html'>Apparently, people...who shall remain nameless... like to be super loud whilst other people are sleeping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when sleeping person wakes up and asks awake person to be a little more quiet, they do not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like sleepy person dislikes awake person, it's just right now she's really angry because she was hoping tonight would be the first decent sleep she's had in a while. And like, she really wants awake person to be just a couple notches more quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few dB really is all she asks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4966655298015284735?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4966655298015284735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4966655298015284735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4966655298015284735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4966655298015284735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/2am-really.html' title='2am. really?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5178487383596766926</id><published>2010-01-16T23:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-12-19T08:35:16.934-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I Die 100-75</title><content type='html'>I figure, it's going to take me a while to write this list, so why not put it in parts. &lt;br /&gt;Four of them to be exact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why not start it eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. Learn to beatbox. I've said it before, and I will said it a million times. Like, i can NOT die until I've learned how to beatbox.&lt;br /&gt;99. Spend more than 300$ on a purse. Yeah, sure spend my money on material things? No big deal right? Wrong. It's very hard for me to spend money. I'm so cheap. Like buying things at the dollar store hurts me. &lt;br /&gt;98. Go one whole year without ever buying a pair of shoes. Considering I'm cheap and all, I have a shoe addiction. It's unhealthy&lt;br /&gt;97. Take up piano again. A large part of my life I let get pushed aside. &lt;br /&gt;96. Read Every single Stephen King Book. At least 5 times. AT LEAST. &lt;br /&gt;95. Get in a plane, and not freak out. This coming from a girl who can't stand on a chair without having a small panic attack. &lt;br /&gt;94. Be part of something. A book club, a band, a no-boys-allowed club. just something.&lt;br /&gt;93. Learn all the words to every single Smiths song.  &lt;br /&gt;92. Bake a cake. from scratch. For someone. For no reason. &lt;br /&gt;91. Live off of PEI for more than one full year.&lt;br /&gt;90. Donate money to charity.&lt;br /&gt;89. Be comfortable with myself (I'll be really disappointed if I don't get this one done)&lt;br /&gt;88. Ride in a train. Because it'll make me feel like i'm going to Hogwarts. &lt;br /&gt;87. Own my own house. (lame eh?)&lt;br /&gt;86. Mustang. Orange plz. &lt;br /&gt;85. Forgive that one person. &lt;br /&gt;84. Go Sailing. because for a girl who lives on an island, I've only ever been on a ferry. once. &lt;br /&gt;83. Meet my internet/blogger friends IRL. Cause, y'all are important to me. :D&lt;br /&gt;82. Find out why it is that 82 is my favourite number. There's a reason I'm sure. &lt;br /&gt;81. bake fudge as good as Grammy's &lt;br /&gt;80. Take a legit vacation to somewhere tropical in the winter time. &lt;br /&gt;79. Make a short film.&lt;br /&gt;78. Buy a dalmatian, and depending on it's gender call it Perdy or Pongo.&lt;br /&gt;77. Road trip!&lt;br /&gt;76. be more open. I tend to not ever talk about things. &lt;br /&gt;75. take the time to find meaning again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it folks. Well for this edition anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you've not heard about it yet, MTV has a new show called The Buried Life,about 4 guys who have a list of things they wanna do, and everytime they complete something on their list, they help someone knock something off a list of their own. It's beautiful really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mtv.ca/tvshows/buried-life/index.jhtml"&gt;http://www.mtv.ca/tvshows/buried-life/index.jhtml&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theburiedlife.com"&gt;www.theburiedlife.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5178487383596766926?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5178487383596766926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5178487383596766926' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5178487383596766926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5178487383596766926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/before-i-die-100-75.html' title='Before I Die 100-75'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4532692634552552842</id><published>2010-01-10T15:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T16:02:43.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'>times eight</title><content type='html'>I'll admit I stole this from another spectacular blogger. Check &lt;a href="http://rachmanship.blogspot.com/"&gt;her&lt;/a&gt; out? kthx. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8 Things I look forward to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Summertime. I always look forward to summer.&lt;br /&gt;2) Seeing more movies this month than I can imagine.&lt;br /&gt;3) Going back to America, when I have both the money and the time. &lt;br /&gt;4) My dad being able to go back to work. He'll be so excited when he can walk again &lt;br /&gt;5) Taking pictures in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;6) Spending more time on 'me'&lt;br /&gt;7) Finishing school.&lt;br /&gt;8) Taking a year off to save up some money to school elsewhere :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8 Things I did yesterday (in order)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Woke up, too early and fell back asleep &lt;br /&gt;2) Woke up again, and checked my computer for any messages. &lt;br /&gt;3) Walked to my friends house. &lt;br /&gt;4) Took the bus to see Avatar (in 3D... again)&lt;br /&gt;5) Got home, and browsed the internet some more. &lt;br /&gt;6) Watched some crazy Irish movie called 'Kisses'&lt;br /&gt;7) Spent some time alone. &lt;br /&gt;8) Talked to someone I enjoy greatly :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8 Things I wish I could do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Be Brave. &lt;br /&gt;2) Apparate. Like really, it would be so much easier. &lt;br /&gt;3) Play guitar&lt;br /&gt;4) Sing well. I just think it would be nice. &lt;br /&gt;5) Travel more. &lt;br /&gt;6) Understand myself a bit more. I'm confusing to say the least. &lt;br /&gt;7) Punch someone in the face, without regret. &lt;br /&gt;8) Ride a horse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8 Movies I love right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Amelie&lt;br /&gt;2) Avatar!&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;3) UP&lt;br /&gt;4) The Pianist&lt;br /&gt;5) District 9&lt;br /&gt;6) Across the Universe&lt;br /&gt;7) Penelope&lt;br /&gt;8) Jeux D'enfants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8 Albums I currently adore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) White Water, White Bloom - Sea Wolf&lt;br /&gt;2) Meat Is Murder - The Smiths&lt;br /&gt;3) Set Yourself on Fire - Stars&lt;br /&gt;4) Party Rock - LMFAO (don't judge me)&lt;br /&gt;5) Like Vines - The Hush Sound&lt;br /&gt;6) The Fame Monster - Lady Gaga&lt;br /&gt;7) Across the Universe Soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;8) Do You Like Rock Music? - British Sea Power&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4532692634552552842?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4532692634552552842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4532692634552552842' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4532692634552552842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4532692634552552842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/times-eight.html' title='times eight'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7620980462138977567</id><published>2010-01-04T15:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T16:29:05.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10 things in twenny ten</title><content type='html'>I know I said I didn't have many resolutions, in-fact... I said I didn't have any at all.&lt;br /&gt;When really I do. Kinda.&lt;br /&gt;I guess they aren't really resolutions just some things that I've been meaning to do. And I have two lists. &lt;br /&gt;A 2010 list, and a 'before i die' list. Not that I plan on dying anytime soon, I just feel like if I write them down, it'll be easier to remember to do them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the year 2010 I have 10 things that I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;twenny10, 10 things. clever eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Finish School- Simple right? Wrong, it's tough for me... but i'ma do it. &lt;br /&gt;9. Sort Things Out -  Without getting to much into it, there's someone I gotta sort things out with. &lt;br /&gt;8.Draw at least one picture per week. I just need to draw more.&lt;br /&gt;7. Pack up and leave - Not that I don't love home, i just really need to get out of here for a while.&lt;br /&gt;6. Own that Buzz Lightyear toy. Like I seriously need it&lt;br /&gt;5. Go back to America - Maybe stay longer this time&lt;br /&gt;4. Save money for things such as 5 and 6.&lt;br /&gt;3. Learn how to play Guitar&lt;br /&gt;                 3.5 get over the fact that my hands are too small for such actitivies.&lt;br /&gt;2. Watch more foreign films. &lt;br /&gt;1. Love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still working on the 'before I die' list, but you can expect it soon :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7620980462138977567?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7620980462138977567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7620980462138977567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7620980462138977567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7620980462138977567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/10-things-in-twenny-ten.html' title='10 things in twenny ten'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4959322555056064804</id><published>2010-01-03T00:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T00:10:25.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Worry.</title><content type='html'>It's already 3 days into the 'new' year, and I've yet to make a resolution. &lt;br /&gt;I suppose I could just do what i do every year, and just ignore it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to change right? Right? Wrong. &lt;br /&gt;I do. But I can't commit. I know I should change, I want to change, but everytime I try... I fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fail at changing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I may get advice like 'Don't change who you are'.&lt;br /&gt;And while I'd love to actually take, and agree with that advice... you just don't know me like I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for the first time I'm going to make a resolution, and commit at trying my best to achieve it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year: Be Happy. &lt;br /&gt;I'm too tired to deal with this anymore. I'm just too tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4959322555056064804?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4959322555056064804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4959322555056064804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4959322555056064804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4959322555056064804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2010/01/dont-worry.html' title='Don&apos;t Worry.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-400490855659536627</id><published>2009-12-25T14:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T14:45:54.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>just becky</title><content type='html'>So, after eons of searching I think I've finally figured out just who it is that I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Becky, not Rebecca, just Becky. &lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who thoroughly enjoys indie rock, yet at the same time loves classical. &lt;br /&gt;I always try to find the best in everyone, and every situation, and while it doesn't always work... I do it none-the-less.&lt;br /&gt;I always take Nat King Cole's advise, and smile... even though my heart is breaking. &lt;br /&gt;I don't like to bother people with the dramas in my life, but I enjoy helping people work through their own. &lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who will hold a grudge for too long. &lt;br /&gt;In-fact, I'm the kind of girl who will hold on to anything too long.  Feelings, memories, and receipts. &lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who particularly enjoys love, I'll admit I'm a hopeless romantic.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the type of girl who will do just about anything for her best friends, or even a complete stranger if it was needed. &lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who may forget where your from upon first meeting you, but soon enough I won't forget much about you.&lt;br /&gt;I remember useless things, but can't remember things that I need to know.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl, who may not love herself all the time, but I will love the beauty that the world provides my eyes with. &lt;br /&gt;The type, who doesn't like to eat animals because it's unfair. &lt;br /&gt;The type, who contradicts herself frequently, and enjoys being so sarcastic that people have a hard time figuring out if she's serious or not. &lt;br /&gt;I may cry to much, but I smile enough to balance it out. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not a complex girl, but I may get confused. &lt;br /&gt;I don't particularly like my image, but I will take a compliment when it's given. I love telling people things that they like to hear, but only if it's the truth.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who feels like being lied to is the worst thing to do. I forgive but I never forget. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the kind of girl who, though I may not enjoy it all, appreciates everything. &lt;br /&gt;This recently includes myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-400490855659536627?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/400490855659536627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=400490855659536627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/400490855659536627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/400490855659536627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-after-eons-of-searching-i-think-ive.html' title='just becky'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2228928122896776379</id><published>2009-12-25T12:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T12:55:47.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>christmastimes.</title><content type='html'>It's Christmas time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a merry jolly festive day and such :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2228928122896776379?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2228928122896776379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2228928122896776379' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2228928122896776379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2228928122896776379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmastimes.html' title='christmastimes.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3276965225133199639</id><published>2009-12-13T00:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T18:20:48.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>20 things that are easier to say with song</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, there are things you want to say to people,to everyone, but fear it'll hurt them, or change their opinion of me. This is what I have to say but can't. So, I'll use these songs to help me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I thought I was someone else, someone good.&lt;br /&gt;2. I won't forget you, at least I'll try.&lt;br /&gt;3. I want you, I want you so bad. &lt;br /&gt;4. You're so vain.&lt;br /&gt;5. Don't walk away.&lt;br /&gt;6. You know I love you.&lt;br /&gt;7. Holy cow, I love your eyes. &lt;br /&gt;8. I'm tangled up in you.&lt;br /&gt;9. I'll have faith in all you do.&lt;br /&gt;10. I'll die young, unless I change my ways. &lt;br /&gt;11. I don't love you anymore. &lt;br /&gt;12. I'm just so fuckin' depressed, I just can't seem to get out of this slump.&lt;br /&gt;13. There's a possibility.&lt;br /&gt;14. Nothing is real.&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you even know how much it hurts, that you gave up on me?&lt;br /&gt;16. It's true.... I mean it. &lt;br /&gt;17. I wanna kiss a girl, I wanna kiss a girl, I wanna kiss a boy. &lt;br /&gt;18. It's getting hard to be someone, but it all works out.&lt;br /&gt;19. I'm the president of your fan club.&lt;br /&gt;20. Tell me why I can't be there where you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have them. Things that, no matter how much  you think you can say, you just can't. I may think I'm brave, but in reality... I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3276965225133199639?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3276965225133199639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3276965225133199639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3276965225133199639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3276965225133199639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/12/20-things-that-are-easier-to-say-with.html' title='20 things that are easier to say with song'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8315565401491079675</id><published>2009-12-05T00:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T00:31:31.771-04:00</updated><title type='text'>okay, so maybe I have a bit of talent.</title><content type='html'>So, after my 'I'm so untalented' moan, I had a chat with one Carole AwEOSME. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who had this to say 'people are people, life is life - it is what you make it, and you'll still be breathing by the end of the day'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I thought before, was blown right out of my mind, with those words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then proceeded to tell me, that I'd still have people who'd love me no matter what. &lt;br /&gt;And she would still love me, even if I killed my boyfriend for no apparent reason. &lt;br /&gt;She would be upset and worried about my mental state, but she'd still love me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it great how a single person can put everything into perspective for you when you're feeling low?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love this girl :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more than I bet she realizes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8315565401491079675?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8315565401491079675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8315565401491079675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8315565401491079675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8315565401491079675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/12/okay-so-maybe-i-have-bit-of-talent.html' title='okay, so maybe I have a bit of talent.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3084876240455120746</id><published>2009-12-04T23:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T14:28:08.946-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not that talented.</title><content type='html'>Really, I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to be, I would... but I find the more I put my mind to things... I just suck at them more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have friends who are really smart, and friends who can sing. I know people who write music, poetry, books! Friends who can cook, siblings who cake bake. People who can design, draw or take beautiful photos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While, I used to think I was good at a few of those things, I'm beginning to doubt myself.  Right now, I feel inadequate next to everyone else in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped out of my first year of university&lt;br /&gt;I used to write all the time, but I've lost all inspiration. &lt;br /&gt;I can't draw right anymore. &lt;br /&gt;I haven't touched an instrument in so long.&lt;br /&gt;I can't take pictures anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be good at these things(or so I was told)... not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;It seems as if I've lost all talent. I can't do much of anything, and I hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm angry, and I'm sad. But at the same time, no matter how I try... I just feel as if nothing I do is good. &lt;br /&gt;Not just good enough, but just not good at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just... not good at al. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. sorry for being a downer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3084876240455120746?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3084876240455120746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3084876240455120746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3084876240455120746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3084876240455120746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-not-that-talented.html' title='I&apos;m not that talented.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8511849798478939477</id><published>2009-10-27T08:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T15:58:47.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you dream that the world will know your name?</title><content type='html'>So... tell me your name. &lt;br /&gt;        [We do though, don't we? All in our own way want to be known. We long to be recognized, to be wanted.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do you care, about all the little things?&lt;br /&gt;               Or... anything at all?&lt;br /&gt;                  [The answer should be simple. The little things are the ones that make us who we are. It isn't where we live, who our parents are, our race, our religion. No. It's our favourite colour, it's loving your best friend, it's enjoying that small hello from a stranger on the street.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel, all the chemicals inside. &lt;br /&gt;            I wanna feel.&lt;br /&gt;                 [I do though. I want to feel without touching]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna sunburn just to know that I'm alive. &lt;br /&gt;                    just to know I'm alive. &lt;br /&gt;                 [A sunburn may not be the most pleasant, but it would remind me everyday that I most certainly am alive. And if I'm alive, I know it's for a reason. That sunburn, gives me reason]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me if I'm dying, cause I don't wanna know. &lt;br /&gt;        if I can't see the sun, then maybe I should go. &lt;br /&gt;                   [I'd feel sad for anyone who'd want to know. To expect death everyday, would be the only thing that would actually kill you]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming of Angels on the moon.&lt;br /&gt;            Where, everyone you know...  never leaves too soon. &lt;br /&gt;                  [A place where people never leave too soon would be the best place in the world. And anyone who's never experienced that, is luckier than they imagine]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do you believe  in the day that you were born? &lt;br /&gt;           Tell me, do you believe?&lt;br /&gt;                  [I'm sure great things were achieved]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do you know, that everyday's the first... of the rest of your life. &lt;br /&gt;                  [Each day that has gone, doesn't exist anymore]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me if I'm dying, cause I don't wanna know. &lt;br /&gt;        if I can't see the sun, then maybe I should go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming of Angels on the moon.&lt;br /&gt;            Where, everyone you know... never leaves too soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is to one last day in the shadows, and to know a brothers love.&lt;br /&gt;this is to New York City Angels, and the rivers of our blood. &lt;br /&gt;this is to all of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't tell me if I'm dying. Cause I don't wanna know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell me all your thoughts about the stars that fill polluted skies. And show me where to run to when no one's left to take your side. &lt;br /&gt;         [i'll listen]&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me where the road is, cause I just don't wanna know. &lt;br /&gt;          [i'd rather make my own]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[what about you?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hold me close, don't ever let me go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8511849798478939477?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8511849798478939477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8511849798478939477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8511849798478939477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8511849798478939477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/10/do-you-dream-that-world-will-know-your.html' title='Do you dream that the world will know your name?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6503533406056905344</id><published>2009-10-21T21:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T21:43:46.933-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile, like you mean it.</title><content type='html'>Just a perfect day, drank sangria in the park. And then later, when it gets dark. We go home. &lt;br /&gt;Just a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, such a perfect day. &lt;br /&gt;                                You just keep me hanging on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a perfect day, problems all left alone, weekenders on our own, it's such fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Just a perfect day.  You made me forget myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                               I though I was someone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                         Someone good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I'd like to have some sangria in the park with you for real,feed animals in the zoo, and a movie since you never watch any, forget all of our problems, be better people. &lt;br /&gt;I guess in a sense... this is my way of telling you how much you mean to me.  &lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, without naming names. You'll realize that Lou Reed is telling you who you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6503533406056905344?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6503533406056905344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6503533406056905344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6503533406056905344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6503533406056905344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/10/smile-like-you-mean-it.html' title='Smile, like you mean it.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8398581858943523234</id><published>2009-10-19T15:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:41:35.081-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Face Lift</title><content type='html'>I was getting tired of the old me. &lt;br /&gt;It's just not who I am anymore or how I see things, and so I made a change. &lt;br /&gt;I'm still wondering how I feel about the new one, and when I have the means to make it better I will, but for now... I suppose it's just a place holder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8398581858943523234?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8398581858943523234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8398581858943523234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8398581858943523234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8398581858943523234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/10/face-lift.html' title='Face Lift'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6633441118963607153</id><published>2009-10-08T23:21:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T23:59:35.733-03:00</updated><title type='text'>It shouldn't have taken this long.</title><content type='html'>The more I sit here and think about it, the more that I can't forgive myself for allowing the sea of separation pull us away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to tell you a story, you may be interested, you may not... But please.. Just listen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had this friend, one might argue that of course, I must have had a lot of friends. And, in a way... the statement is true, but I've not had a friend like this. Nor, do I think I could ever have a friend of the same magnitude ever again. &lt;br /&gt;I think, for you to get the full effect, I'll have to start at the beginning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 14, maybe 15. That was the first time we met, in English I think. Through a mutual friend. But, I guess in retrospect, the when and how is unimportant. What's important is as high school progressed, so did our friendship. Finding ourselves in more and more classes together I began to realize just how wonderful he truly is. He became my other half, the zig to my zag if you will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the time when we had plans to make power rangers out of paperclips. And that time we took a stroll around the big city with camera's. The time when there was treasure to be sought, and Gross Domestic Product being formed. When I realized we were so much alike. How we'd spend the afternoon listening to crazy music, and making unnecessary websites. Creeping people we'd never even met before. Loving that fellow at the petrocan. I remember press-ons and cars being fixed. A coffee and a donut almost every morning. Drinks till the we hours of the morning, holding hands for fun. A stolen grad ring that I hold on to because it reminds me of everything good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We created a game in which we would tell each other things no one knew about us, only pulling us closer at friends. And then... Something happened. &lt;br /&gt;I don't even know what it was, or how it came to be. But it did... and things began to disintegrate. We saw less and less of each other. For a long time it was hard, really hard for me to live with less you. Then for a bit it was normal... But I started to realize it was just wrong. And I didn't like it. Not one bit. And then... I fell apart. Completely. And the only person I wanted to be with me was you. So we made plans to hang out the next, have a steamer. But I was followed. And that time I wanted with you to be ... sad... was interrupted. &lt;br /&gt;I'd see you having grand ol times with different people, and I'd get jealous a bit. I suppose this is being selfish of me, for wanted things to go back to the way they were before, because I don't even know if you want things to return. If you don't, then that's okay... I guess what I really wanted you know is that I miss you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for letting our friendship slip away to a talk-only-every-so-often kind of thing. I'm sorry that after I stopped driving, I allowed myself to drift away. I'm sorry I stole your grad ring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it folks. We fell, it was hard, then for a brief moment the impact became lighter, until I started to realize what happened. The truth is, I think I let it slide for so long, because I didn't want to realize it was fading. I lied to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I miss you. And even if we stay in this talk-and-hang-out-every-so-often kind of thing[though I really hope we don't] I'll always refer to you as the person who knows the most about who I am. Possibly a bit more than I know. You'll always be one of the best friends I've ever, and will ever have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6633441118963607153?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6633441118963607153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6633441118963607153' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6633441118963607153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6633441118963607153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-shouldnt-have-taken-this-long.html' title='It shouldn&apos;t have taken this long.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2965480119301929663</id><published>2009-10-02T16:42:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T16:49:47.469-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And because, failure is an option.&lt;br /&gt;It's just not one anyone wants to choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that as well as I, so why pretend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2965480119301929663?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2965480119301929663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2965480119301929663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2965480119301929663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2965480119301929663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/10/and-because-failure-is-option.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5416633585940021537</id><published>2009-09-21T19:42:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T00:05:59.828-03:00</updated><title type='text'>How tall IS the tallest man on earth?</title><content type='html'>If you happen to know the answer I would appreciate knowing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kthx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5416633585940021537?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5416633585940021537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5416633585940021537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5416633585940021537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5416633585940021537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-tall-is-tallest-man-on-earth.html' title='How tall IS the tallest man on earth?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-915346826998876262</id><published>2009-09-09T17:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T01:12:05.099-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Who would you rather be...</title><content type='html'>The Beatles, or The Rolling Stones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, it's not like I've been particularly busy, or stressed about anything... more or less just lazy. &lt;br /&gt;Lazy like, I started writing this yesterday, but figured it'd be more productive for me to just sit here, and stare at the screen. &lt;br /&gt;And for that reason, I find it difficult to type anything anymore. As I have for over a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about an update?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life at home had been starting to gain speed as it rolled down the hill of lame, which was gradually turning into a bigger mountain as each day passed. [Yes, I know... Almost everytime I post something on here, I complain about something... but there's no where else for it to be done]&lt;br /&gt;My relationships with most family members were deteriorating, to the point where I would get mad at the drop of a hat. One thing you should know about me is, I never get mad. Well... I do. Often in-fact, but to your face? Not a chance. I hold things in, which is odd for a girl who quite easily speaks her mind, and likes to tell you how things are happening. Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of fights, and can dish it out when it's needed, but most of the time... I leave it be. &lt;br /&gt;Until I snapped. Something inside of me kept screaming that I couldn't just let my family walk all over me, without saying a word. I couldn't let them try to control every aspect of my life, while I just put my tail between my legs, and whimpered in agony. I couldn't let them take me for granted, all the while, I just let them. &lt;br /&gt;So I stopped. And began to fight back when I was being yelled at. A thing that, in the whole 20 years I've been alive... I have never, ever, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ever&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in any kind of tone other than civil. Until lately. They were unimpressed. I just didn't care. &lt;br /&gt;The last couple weeks of summer were spent in an underlying tension between us, knowing that I had finally told them how I felt about everything. Which I might add, was turned around on my not respecting them somehow. Whatever... I was done, and only had a few days left till I left. Upon leaving, things were fine and dandy... I said my good-byes, which were more of a see-you later really, and walked out the door. &lt;br /&gt;Now, I find that the more I'm away... the more that I'm missing that craziness of home. And why you might ask? Well, perhaps it's because deep down, I know my family means well, in all they do. Perhaps it's because I feel like I left on a bad note, and want to fix things. Perhaps it's because for so long, it's all knew. Maybe it's all of these, maybe it's none. Who knows? I certainly don't, and can't even begin to try and figure it all out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next subject:&lt;br /&gt;Moving Out\School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AWESOME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, it's unbelievable. I've been gone from home just about a week. And it's fantastic to be where people aren't fighting all the time, or a place where if I do something well, or nice for someone, it's acknowledged and appreciated. Also, my room-mate is one of the coolest people ever. So that's always a bonus too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, school's only just begun, and classes are still at a hold, so there isn't much to say about that. &lt;br /&gt;I'm planning on not staying away from here too long, and I could write for ages longer, but I need to hit the hay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did that expression come from 'Hit the Hay'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been full of a lot of questions lately, and been finding it hard to find some of the answers I seek.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-915346826998876262?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/915346826998876262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=915346826998876262' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/915346826998876262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/915346826998876262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/09/who-would-you-rather-be.html' title='Who would you rather be...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7611214672386773139</id><published>2009-08-03T13:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T14:17:13.134-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I've just seen a face,</title><content type='html'>And I can't forget the time or place where we just met. &lt;br /&gt;Had it been another day, I might have looked the other way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it's the same for both parties involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no sun today, for the first time in a while, there is no sun. Generally, I'm not really opposed to clouds, as if you look closely enough you'll see that the world is pigmented with a slight shade of blue. Blue has always been a favourite of mine. But today, I'd hoped there'd be a bit of sun. I have a canvas sitting alone in the corner, begging me for colour, for some life, for a purpose. Were it to be sunny today, I would have managed to escape the prison I've been locked away in. And while it's been a self-admittance, I've made a promise to myself to not stay captive to these four green walls. But alas, for one more day, I will remain inside, while the inspiration I've been looking for is outside, breathing freedom. The same freedom I wish I could just grasp hold of. &lt;br /&gt;I will turn off, and I will shut down. The come and go's are restless in my head. &lt;br /&gt;Alas, I'll pull out the canvas, I will stare at it, and take that restlessness, and convert it, into an image.&lt;br /&gt;An image only I can appreciate the true meaning behind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all the while, I've been delivering idiots and photographs, wishing for happiness and disaster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7611214672386773139?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7611214672386773139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7611214672386773139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7611214672386773139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7611214672386773139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/08/ive-just-seen-face.html' title='I&apos;ve just seen a face,'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-732976908336732385</id><published>2009-08-01T23:32:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T00:28:37.475-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I won't share you.</title><content type='html'>I've called to wish you an un-happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've called to wish you an un-happy birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you're evil&lt;br /&gt;and you lie&lt;br /&gt;And, if you should die, I might feel slightly sad.&lt;br /&gt;{ but I won't cry }&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Smiths; Morrisey; Lyrical. Genius. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving day: September 5th.&lt;br /&gt;School begins: September 9th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm growing more annoyed with the parental units, and 'friends' and the siblings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I get away, it'll surely bring a ray of sun back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-732976908336732385?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/732976908336732385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=732976908336732385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/732976908336732385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/732976908336732385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-wont-share-you.html' title='I won&apos;t share you.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4255550047809202380</id><published>2009-07-16T04:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T04:43:13.909-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I wonder...</title><content type='html'>if this is worth my time anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I feel right doesn't exactly fit into the 'sunshine and rainbows' category, &lt;br /&gt;yet I give the impression that's where I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop lying, to myself of course, and finally let them know, &lt;br /&gt;that I DO care, I've always cared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is al.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4255550047809202380?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4255550047809202380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4255550047809202380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4255550047809202380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4255550047809202380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-wonder.html' title='I wonder...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1200054591042805622</id><published>2009-06-09T18:34:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T19:11:45.939-03:00</updated><title type='text'>One, Two, Skip a few...</title><content type='html'>Ninety-Nine, A HUNDRED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was I the only kid who used to say that? I hope not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've started reading Still Alice, which is a book about a woman who gets Alzheimer's. I knew this before I even started reading the book, and it got me to thinking; What if that happens to me? What if I start to forget things that I don't want to forget? What if I can only remember bad things? So, I grabbed my new journal and compiled a list. Well, two lists. The first of things I never want to forget(thus far). And things I'd like to forget, but don't think I ever will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Becky, &lt;br /&gt;Don't forget these things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Losing your two front teeth in the front yard, and getting a two dollar bill. &lt;br /&gt;- Wearing plaid pants, with polka dot shirts. &lt;br /&gt;- Playing Barbies with the boys in the neighbor hood.&lt;br /&gt;- Dressing up in old figure skating outfits, and walking around the neighborhood. &lt;br /&gt;- Being in an Anne of Green Gables look-a-like contest.&lt;br /&gt;- Having hair that went down to your knees. &lt;br /&gt;- Never, not ONCE, breaking a bone. &lt;br /&gt;- Having knee surgery, then thinking you were paralyzed afterward. &lt;br /&gt;- Loving rollerblades.&lt;br /&gt;- Buying your first Comic.&lt;br /&gt;- Having some of the most amazing friends ANYONE could ask for.&lt;br /&gt;- Having one of those friends turn out to something more.&lt;br /&gt;- The day you came home from school, to see your mom with a dog, and finding out it was yours.&lt;br /&gt;- Being daddy's little girl&lt;br /&gt;- Calling your father 'Daddy' longer than you should have.&lt;br /&gt;- Having Curtis as a best friend for the longest time. &lt;br /&gt;- Hiding imaginary animals in the vents on the side of the school. &lt;br /&gt;- Falling in love.&lt;br /&gt;- Your first kiss.&lt;br /&gt;- The first time you rode a bike without training wheels.&lt;br /&gt;- Deciding to stop being so shy.&lt;br /&gt;- Realizing that music means more to you than you once thought.&lt;br /&gt;- That water balloon fight with the whole of the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;- Learning to drive.&lt;br /&gt;- Failing your drivers test the first time.&lt;br /&gt;- Graduating high-school. &lt;br /&gt;- Deciding that girls cause too much drama. &lt;br /&gt;- Laughing so hard you cried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more, many more. But for now... that's all I'm going to put up here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Becky, &lt;br /&gt;Don't remember these things forever:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Being unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;- Losing Curtis, and what that did to you.&lt;br /&gt;- Having your heart broken.&lt;br /&gt;- Being compared to your sister in most everything.&lt;br /&gt;- How you felt the day your dog died. &lt;br /&gt;- Feeling alone. &lt;br /&gt;- Losing too many people, in a short time frame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are some of the big things, there are little things I want to not remember like, falling on my face at the beach. But for now... that's all. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Remember that one time we climbed the trees, so we could reach the rainbow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We weren't tall enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1200054591042805622?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1200054591042805622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1200054591042805622' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1200054591042805622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1200054591042805622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-two-skip-few.html' title='One, Two, Skip a few...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2622016867849846112</id><published>2009-05-28T19:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T22:33:51.123-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pieces of What?</title><content type='html'>Doesn't matter anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's it called when the moon isn't half, but it's less then a quarter? My calender doesn't tell me anymore, and  it's throwing me off a little bit.  Is it a crescent? I can't remember, but it sure is pretty tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an Asian man, and his baby in the park behind my house today. Incase you haven't realized, men with babies are super cute. ASIAN babies are even cuter. The man was just hilarious, he was skipping through the park, having a good ol' time. I laughed, and continued on my way. To be honest, I wasn't really going anywhere, just walking through the living room, sharing my work day experiences with the family. &lt;br /&gt;Really, I'm never really going anywhere. My social life lacks much of anything. Camping soon, with all the people I love &lt;3. &lt;br /&gt;Possibly Halifax in the net weekend with the lovely Colin and Evan :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I like the Jonas Brothers too much for my own good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look to my right, I see the back of my bedroom door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sh83CCHvbPI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fge9svzKa3M/s1600-h/Picture+499.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sh83CCHvbPI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fge9svzKa3M/s400/Picture+499.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341048191153302770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some photos, 3 of these photos make me smile tremendous amounts, each for different reasons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Old Man On Coney Island Pier- This is why: He's got no shoes. He was fishing. He looked  at me just when I snapped the picture. &lt;br /&gt;2. Graffiti'd Pole - This is why: It's got asian characters, underneath it says 'Rain In Japanese'. &lt;br /&gt;3. That One Guy - This is why: He's the one guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself looking up there often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll go get lost in a fictitious world where tortoises tell the stories, and coma's are comma's. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is a world I could get used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pieces of what, I used to call home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2622016867849846112?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2622016867849846112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2622016867849846112' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2622016867849846112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2622016867849846112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/05/piece-of-what.html' title='Pieces of What?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sh83CCHvbPI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fge9svzKa3M/s72-c/Picture+499.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5661524262959470951</id><published>2009-05-20T15:46:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:22:50.479-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5661524262959470951?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5661524262959470951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5661524262959470951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5661524262959470951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5661524262959470951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/05/down-came-black-bird.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4449595357186371978</id><published>2009-05-11T11:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T12:29:08.120-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I mean what can I say to you?</title><content type='html'>So, I read Tinne's Summer List '09. And that girl, is PHENOMENAL. So, I figured, HEY! Why not make one of my own :D&lt;br /&gt;Here goes;&lt;br /&gt;This summer I'd like to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Finally beat Ocarina of Time. (Yes, I know... win a game? But I really wanna)&lt;br /&gt;2. Try a food I've never had before. &lt;br /&gt;3. Take more than one trip off Island. I don't care if they're even that far. I just need to leave for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;4. Save my money. Which leads me to&lt;br /&gt;5. FINALLY, send out those christmas gifts, which I've been adding on to since I never send them. &lt;br /&gt;6. Love like I've never loved before.&lt;br /&gt;7. Take more pictures then I've ever taken before. &lt;br /&gt;8. Buy a film Camera. &lt;br /&gt;9. Have the most amazing time with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;10. Try not to miss people as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;11. Move on. &lt;br /&gt;12. Try to keep drawing as much as I can, which means I should get a sketchbook, and some pencils.&lt;br /&gt;13. Buy more CD's&lt;br /&gt;14. Write a letter. To anyone, or everyone. &lt;br /&gt;15. Invest in some more sunglasses. My collection has been diminishing. I gave some pairs away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so far, that's all I can think of. Who knows, as summer goes on I'm sure there will be more things that I plan to as the summer continues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4449595357186371978?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4449595357186371978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4449595357186371978' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4449595357186371978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4449595357186371978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-mean-what-can-i-say-to-you.html' title='I mean what can I say to you?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7459931048422670067</id><published>2009-04-26T10:51:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:51:29.260-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Magikarp</title><content type='html'>Well, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should reintroduce myself. It's been a while. But I've been feeling that no matter how much I want to write something here, I just can't get the words to explain how I've been feeling or what's been going on. Probably because there was too much going on in my life for words to even comprehend what's been happening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's going to be over in a week, I have 5 days left of classes till summer break. This is great, because I absolutely hate school. But, at the same time it's really going to suck because I've grown accustomed to waking up in the morning, driving the hour needed to get here and seeing the people I see everyday. It's going to be weird not being able to see them all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird because I've been thinking about how much I want summer to be here, but at the same time a summer without some people is going to be awful.  Absolutely awful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent the weekend at Rosa's which was AWESOME, like probably one of the best weekends of life. Not kidding. &lt;br /&gt;It was phenomenal. Absolutely breathtaking on so many different levels, and I wouldn't change anything about it. &lt;br /&gt;Also we played this game, and it was really hard to understand at first, but then when i did understand it... I totally pwned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7459931048422670067?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7459931048422670067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7459931048422670067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7459931048422670067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7459931048422670067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-i-suppose-i-should-reintroduce.html' title='Magikarp'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8046081155783285430</id><published>2009-04-19T22:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T22:29:39.657-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And...</title><content type='html'>Surprisingly, things are getting better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8046081155783285430?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8046081155783285430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8046081155783285430' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8046081155783285430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8046081155783285430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/and.html' title='And...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-106817407698003773</id><published>2009-04-10T20:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:45:32.998-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is in the air.</title><content type='html'>It was PLUS TEN today!! PLUS TEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited that spring is finally here, and that the snow is melting!.&lt;br /&gt;I had to clean up the yard today, the whole family. It was like a family activity, most people as a family go out to dinner, or something... but is no.. we clean up the yard. It was funny though.  Minus mama Hitler dictating to us how to pick leaves up off the ground. We found like 3 baseballs and a football though, so we played a bit o' ball... well me and the boys, the 'rents are too lame, and Lindy is also lame.  So we did that for a bit, and mom got mad because we were trying to have a bit of fun, then of course we were pissed, and didn't do jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live right infront of a park, so the whole time I was eyeing it up. The swings looked so inviting. Just there, so alone, swaying in the small breeze. &lt;br /&gt;I took a hop over the fence dividing our now clean backyard, and the ever loving park and ran to the swings. We have 6 swing. &lt;br /&gt;Of which three were broken :c ... Now as a child, whenever we went to the park, we all had a specific swing that we would go on... the one I usually went on was broken. Of course I was mortified, and had to substitute my beloved swing with that of another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped on, pulled backward and kicked off! It was so much fun! I have actually not been on a swing in years I'm sure.... I went higher and higher, and higher, this is quite an accomplishment for a girl who is terrified of heights. Eventually I had to get off of the swing though because pumping made my knees ache with the pain of a thousand furies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus I ran back to the yard where Nate' bike was also looking super fun.  So I swiped that and hopped on... Now, I'm actually not allowed to ride bikes because of that thing in my knees, some sorta muscular imbalance disease. Lame as fuck... but anywho, I really didn't care much and went for a ride :) only around the yard and up the street a couple times, but it was nice. I spent the whole day outside too, I've not done that in a while... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should go outside more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Swing. EVERYDAY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. Might I mention when I jumped off the swings. I fell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-106817407698003773?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/106817407698003773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=106817407698003773' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/106817407698003773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/106817407698003773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-is-in-air.html' title='Spring is in the air.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1797035134382553364</id><published>2009-04-05T17:51:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:55:44.322-03:00</updated><title type='text'>This Just In...</title><content type='html'>I love seeing people who I've not seen in a long time, I love being able to catch up on their life, and fill them in with mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I have a new favourite song. &lt;br /&gt;It's called 'The Girl' by City and Colour. &lt;br /&gt;If you've not heard it, you need to invest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty sure if a guy ever sang me this I would be his forever.&lt;br /&gt;If he was the right guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1797035134382553364?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1797035134382553364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1797035134382553364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1797035134382553364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1797035134382553364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-just-in.html' title='This Just In...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6340038353983767784</id><published>2009-04-02T10:18:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:19:32.113-03:00</updated><title type='text'>o rly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SdS7LmLXSGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/kDAIXpUmLUQ/s1600-h/lulz.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SdS7LmLXSGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/kDAIXpUmLUQ/s400/lulz.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320082867732564066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a print screen of what I do on thursdays in class, I went to visit G's pet in Pet Society.... and my pet fell asleep on his floor becuase he isn't a good host. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts: b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6340038353983767784?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6340038353983767784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6340038353983767784' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6340038353983767784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6340038353983767784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-rly.html' title='o rly'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SdS7LmLXSGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/kDAIXpUmLUQ/s72-c/lulz.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8248821178870178810</id><published>2009-04-02T10:18:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:18:14.287-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8248821178870178810?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8248821178870178810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8248821178870178810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8248821178870178810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8248821178870178810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6059575055890339063</id><published>2009-03-29T16:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T16:45:10.168-03:00</updated><title type='text'>haiku.</title><content type='html'>in my blanket robe&lt;br /&gt;to protect me crazy ghost&lt;br /&gt;murders i'm sure is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6059575055890339063?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6059575055890339063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6059575055890339063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6059575055890339063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6059575055890339063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/haiku.html' title='haiku.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1986151746319893101</id><published>2009-03-28T21:29:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:28:01.201-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Like the peace, in the back-seat...</title><content type='html'>Well really, I much prefer to be in the front seat. Because chances are, if I'm in the back seat... I'm not driving. Well hopefully, I wouldn't be driving from the back seat... I mean I know I have some skillz, but that would just be ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had to write these letters. To people in my life recently, and even a couple from my past. Yeah, Yeah... I get it, it's kinda weird and I'm not gonna get into the details, but it was well needed. &lt;br /&gt;The point of the letters was to let people know what's going on in my life, let them know how I feel about them, and how my life has been with/without them. Now, I don't have to send/give out any of these letters... it was more of something I had to do to sort things out in my head. I started them the other day, and got maybe 4  and a half done. A lot of writing perhaps, but it's hard to tell people somethings. REALLY HARD. Even if they may not ever see that letter. Now, I'm usually the person that if I have something to say, I just say it. 'Fuck the consequences' sort of deal. But, no matter what everything I really want to say to these people is tough as hell for me to write. &lt;br /&gt;The first one I started writing was for Rosa, because I'm so happy that, that girl is in my life, because I've never had many decent girl friends... and I'll tell you something... this one in particular is GRAND.&lt;br /&gt;Then after I finished hers, I began writing one to Curtis...and for those of you who don't know... Curtis was someone very special to me who passed away some years ago. &lt;br /&gt;And after Curtis, came my mom... My poor poor mother, who thinks she knows plenty about my life... I took the opportunity to bitch her out in the letter, while at the same time thanking her for being grand.&lt;br /&gt;After mama came Lindy... and that was a harsh one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I will continue to chew on the ends of my hood strings, whilst listening to Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also just as a random completely unrelated to the above, I went out for photos today :D yayyyyy!!!!! Pictures of pets was our assignment, so lacking my own pet I had to go to Aunt Sherla's. She has beautiful dogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sc7InlrdGoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/CmON4zFM5Jo/s1600-h/SomePups+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sc7InlrdGoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/CmON4zFM5Jo/s200/SomePups+064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318408792425962114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Casey, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sc7Inw4UI8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/fJ2g26GhWLM/s1600-h/SomePups+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sc7Inw4UI8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/fJ2g26GhWLM/s200/SomePups+055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318408795432690626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finnigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1986151746319893101?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1986151746319893101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1986151746319893101' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1986151746319893101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1986151746319893101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-like-peace-in-back-seat.html' title='I Like the peace, in the back-seat...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/Sc7InlrdGoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/CmON4zFM5Jo/s72-c/SomePups+064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4110193156456810891</id><published>2009-03-24T19:13:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:33:42.495-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A hundred? Srsly.</title><content type='html'>So I was checking my Devaint for the first time in a long time today, and I noticed a girl I follow, posted a new journal with 100 secrets or fun facts that aren't very well known. So I though... Hey why don't I do this. &lt;br /&gt;And less of 100 secrets and more of 100 things that pop into my head.&lt;br /&gt;And here we do.. I'll try to explain a few as I go. &lt;br /&gt;This is gonna be a long one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sometimes, when people lose my trust...I don't let them know and just allow myself to drift away from them. &lt;br /&gt;2. For the longest time, before I could go to sleep, I had to have my blanket up over my ears, with my back against the wall, facing the door. The reason? I had a dream that vampires lived in my closet once, and I thought they might come for me. After a while, it just became habit.&lt;br /&gt;3. I now sleep on my stomach, facing the wall, hugging pillows. &lt;br /&gt;4. When I feel uncomfortable sometimes, I try to make things funny. Which brings me to the next, &lt;br /&gt;5. I like when people laugh at my funnies, CONFIDENCE BOOST.&lt;br /&gt;6. Silence. It terrifies me. Not kidding.&lt;br /&gt;7. I've few fears, the list includes, (Silence, obvi), Heights, and being alone. &lt;br /&gt;8. I have a wide variety of my taste in music. &lt;br /&gt;9. There's been many of occasions when I've actually wanted to do drugs. This is weird for me because I'm not a fan, and I've never done... but sometimes.. I really wish I could.&lt;br /&gt;10. I realized that as this list goes on these things are just going to get ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;11. I hate judgement. What people think of me, is actually really important to me.&lt;br /&gt;12. Then again, after a while.... I actually quit caring.&lt;br /&gt;13. I've stopped being friends with 90 percent of the people I was friends with growing up.&lt;br /&gt;14. I still, at age 20(almost), sleep with a teddy bear.&lt;br /&gt;15. I've had my stuffed dalmatian for 14 years.&lt;br /&gt;16. I quite often wish my life was like a movie, in which everything would work out for me.&lt;br /&gt;17. Often, I think that because I watch too many movies, I expect too much out of life.&lt;br /&gt;18. The world has disappointed me in more than one way. On several occasions.&lt;br /&gt;19. I hate people.&lt;br /&gt;20. I love people. It's complex.&lt;br /&gt;21. My dreams are rarely good ones. &lt;br /&gt;22. I always look into a persons eyes when I talk to them. Even if I know they don't like it. &lt;br /&gt;23. If a person has nice eyes, I tend to ignore what they're saying. &lt;br /&gt;24. I only use the numbers at the top of the keyboard for my password. Everything else is done on a numberpad.&lt;br /&gt;25. Keyboards that don't have a number pad throw me off.&lt;br /&gt;26. My favourite season in Spring, and not just because of my birthday... but because I really like how it smells.&lt;br /&gt;27. I'm very keen on the way things smell. It's usually the first thing I notice when I go places.&lt;br /&gt;28. The most amazing smell in the world is man. And not like icky man, but a clean showered man. &lt;br /&gt;29. Accents make me melt.&lt;br /&gt;MISSING. Oops &lt;br /&gt;32. There was a time when I thought I would never ever fall in love, and I've come to terms with that. &lt;br /&gt;33. On the rare occasion I feel like I could let go.&lt;br /&gt;34. Without the friends that I have right now, I know I wouldn't be here.&lt;br /&gt;35. Sometimes when I hear a song, I'll relate it to a movie I've seen. 'Ohh! This song was in that one movie with Zach Braff, in that one scene.'&lt;br /&gt;36. I memorize things, that need not be remember. &lt;br /&gt;37. My locker combo from grade 7 was 15-5-24.&lt;br /&gt;38. I didn't make that up. &lt;br /&gt;39. When people use 'lol' not in irony, it sets me off a little. &lt;br /&gt;40. I hate, hate, HATE, when people pick at me for talking to people I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;41. I've met some amazing people, of random interwebs sites.&lt;br /&gt;42. Speaking of things I hate. When people rush me. I will purposely go slowed just to piss you off.&lt;br /&gt;43. It doesn't bother me if the TV volume isn't set to an 'even' number or one that ends in 5 or 0. &lt;br /&gt;44. In-fact, I frequently say things, or do things that I know annoy people. Just for kicks. &lt;br /&gt;45. It's easier for me to communicate with males then females.&lt;br /&gt;46. Growing up, I had horrible friends(all girls) that caused me to have super low self esteem.&lt;br /&gt;47. I hide my super low self esteem with humour.&lt;br /&gt;48. I genuinely despise how I look. &lt;br /&gt;49. I love how I have my room decorated. &lt;br /&gt;50. Taking photos makes me happy, I love knowing how to take photos, how to compose good ones, it's my thing.&lt;br /&gt;51. People who think they can take a camera, point and click, and become an INSTA-PHOTOGRAPHER, piss me off.&lt;br /&gt;52. There are a lot of things that make me angry.&lt;br /&gt;53. I've put effort into learning a sport, that I've actually had no interest in previously. &lt;br /&gt;54. I secretly love it now.&lt;br /&gt;55. Tennis. The only sport I can play.&lt;br /&gt;56. I used to play softball. Till I got hit in the face and quit.&lt;br /&gt;57. I'm now afraid of balls. &lt;br /&gt;58. I take anything and everything out of context.&lt;br /&gt;59. 'That's what she said' comes out of my mouth without me thinking now. &lt;br /&gt;60. I get sad about things that I probably shouldn't get sad about.&lt;br /&gt;61. I hold on to the past, and it's not good for me. &lt;br /&gt;62. I see someone once a week. That's all I'm gonna put for this.  You decide what it means. &lt;br /&gt;63. I stopped caring. &lt;br /&gt;64. There's a song coming from the speakers of my computer called 'Peeping Tom'. I love Reggae.&lt;br /&gt;65. I know more about things than you probably think I do.&lt;br /&gt;66. When people buy the same things as me... Not a fan. &lt;br /&gt;67. I spend way too much time on the computer, because I don't want to put up with my family.&lt;br /&gt;68. My brother Brandon is at work, I didn't even know he left. &lt;br /&gt;69. I am definitely closer to Nathan, then I am Brandon. Which is kinda bad, but Brandon is always locked in his room, and is full of teenage angst.&lt;br /&gt;70. I just lol'd that I just put a post for number '69'.&lt;br /&gt;71. Currently I'm sitting in the dark, and I can't be bothered to turn on the lights.&lt;br /&gt;72. My father was just told by Doctors that he has Ostio Arthritis, and this terrifies me.&lt;br /&gt;73. I'm one of the biggest 'Daddy's Girls' you'll ever meet.&lt;br /&gt;74. I'm afraid to tell my mother about my plans for the future.&lt;br /&gt;75. My parents raised me well, and I will never, ever regret having them as parents.&lt;br /&gt;76. The sister of Becky used to be her best friend. &lt;br /&gt;77. I cried for hours when my dog died. &lt;br /&gt;78. Sometimes, when I open the porch door, I still sneak in to make sure the dog doesn't get out... From habit.&lt;br /&gt;79. I hold on to things for too long. I find it really hard to let go.&lt;br /&gt;80. I'm not one to hold a grudge over a stupid thing.&lt;br /&gt;81. That being said, it takes a lot for me to forgive someone.&lt;br /&gt;82. For some unknown reason, this is my favourite number.&lt;br /&gt;83. I had to change this number.&lt;br /&gt;84. I hate the sound of dripping taps. &lt;br /&gt;85. I thought I would be doing this for hours, when it really hasn't been that hard to think of things.&lt;br /&gt;86. I value the friendships I have.&lt;br /&gt;87. Driving fast always makes me feel better if I've had a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;88. I'm boycotting The Golden Compass, and nothing you do can make me watch/read it.&lt;br /&gt;89. I believe that anyone who doesn't like Ska is seriously disturbed.&lt;br /&gt;90. I've often wondered if there was something I could do to change the world.&lt;br /&gt;91. I didn't do my homework, because I don't know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;92. On my lowest days, I can only talk to 1 person without getting annoyed with them.&lt;br /&gt;93. I don't eat anything with a face, and I hate when people rub it in that they're eating a dead animal. I get it, okay?&lt;br /&gt;94. The letters I use most on the lappy are; T, E, S, H, and N.  &lt;br /&gt;95. The first thing that popped into my mind when looking at those letters was how Sean Connery might say nest ... 'Nesht'.&lt;br /&gt;96. My mom had a small freak attack after I bought bright coloured bras. I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;97. My favourite song in the whole entire world in Moonlight Sonata. &lt;br /&gt;98. Being a Canadian, I stereotypically say 'EH' often. &lt;br /&gt;99. The biggest way to lose my trust, is to lie to me. Lie to me, and we're through.&lt;br /&gt;100. The new MSN allows me a 'Favourites' group. There are FIVE people in that group. All boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's one hundred. Wow, I'm actually surprised at how easy that was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4110193156456810891?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4110193156456810891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4110193156456810891' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4110193156456810891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4110193156456810891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/hundred-srsly.html' title='A hundred? Srsly.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7192489930518512582</id><published>2009-03-16T20:41:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:34:34.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7192489930518512582?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7192489930518512582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7192489930518512582' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7192489930518512582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7192489930518512582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-saw-movie-this-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2178680385030704481</id><published>2009-03-08T16:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T18:14:04.183-03:00</updated><title type='text'>You spin my head right round</title><content type='html'>I want to run away.&lt;br /&gt;I want to run away to a place where I can be who I want to be. &lt;br /&gt;To a place where I can be WITH, who I want to be (Which I'm sure is pretty obvious)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go to a place where I can be the person I want to be on the inside. The one who doesn't cower. The one who just does things. All spur of the moment. I mean, there's obviously going to be things I'm still not going to do. But I'm too cautious I think. &lt;br /&gt;I think? No.&lt;br /&gt;This is most definitely something that I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a huge fight with my mother, which I can tell you in itself is most unpleasant. BUT, this particular fight had to happen at one of the most INCONVENIENT times in the whole world.  She seriously, GAH! I can't even begin to explain that woman to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just in I'm a twat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becky being a twat: FIFTYMILLION&lt;br /&gt;Becky NOT being a twat: Zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2178680385030704481?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2178680385030704481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2178680385030704481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2178680385030704481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2178680385030704481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-spin-my-head-right-round.html' title='You spin my head right round'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7129503914708809988</id><published>2009-03-06T17:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:54:45.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Apologies</title><content type='html'>Is it possible to have a cold, and the flu at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is. Because I'm pretty sure I do.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had so much to write, so much I wanted to write about, and BAM... forgot it all.&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. it's probably the plague.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7129503914708809988?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7129503914708809988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7129503914708809988' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7129503914708809988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7129503914708809988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-apologies.html' title='My Apologies'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3992633889119162956</id><published>2009-02-24T19:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T16:06:40.558-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I really need to get out..</title><content type='html'>I did a quiz thing on facebook today, because that's what I do when I'm bored :D&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow... It was like, one of those in which you 'x' of movie you've seen... out of 246, I've seen 204? I think ... Yeah. &lt;br /&gt;Like, seriously... Becky needs to get out of her house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that I spent the day at my sister, because I didn't have class this AM/didn't feel like going this afternoon, and forgot to bring my pictures for class this afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;Bitch-Rice may crucify me.  I'm not too concerned anyhow :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaSDdZJBn5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/LalChg4coSE/s1600-h/Picture+392.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaSDdZJBn5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/LalChg4coSE/s200/Picture+392.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306510801937473426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for kicks. Ignore the fact that I look like I've not bathed... because I hadn't :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;I'm hella bored right now, hence the blog of random city. I'm thinking about watching Ghost Ship... A scary movie. I love watching 'scary' movies. 'Specially ones with ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. Colin is a noob at Zelda Games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3992633889119162956?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3992633889119162956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3992633889119162956' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3992633889119162956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3992633889119162956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-really-need-to-get-out.html' title='I really need to get out..'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaSDdZJBn5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/LalChg4coSE/s72-c/Picture+392.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3647905010149846574</id><published>2009-02-24T09:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:36:35.824-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was like I was 10 again</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I made a snowman. It was one of the best snowmen you'd ever see. It took me like 50 years(10 minutes) to make it, and it was like 6 feet(maybe 3) tall. I felt like a kid again, and it was so much fun. My sister thought it would be fun to give my snowman leprosy with her spray bottle she filled with food colouring and water. After she gave my snowman, this horrid disease, I gave him angry eyebrows because both he and I were PISSED. You can expect pictures of this soon. Then, as I continued to play in the snow my brother TACKLED my snowman right to the ground, smashing him in a million tiny tiny pieces, and at the same time, breaking my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can expect pictures of this later when I'm on my own computer :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3647905010149846574?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3647905010149846574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3647905010149846574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3647905010149846574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3647905010149846574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-was-like-i-was-10-again.html' title='It was like I was 10 again'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5001903340193802361</id><published>2009-02-21T18:40:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:37:15.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Through My Red Box Of Mmrs</title><content type='html'>Actually, I don't have a red box of memories...It's closer to a burgundy colour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning my room is like a extravagant journey through time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, when I was home from school, I decided it would be best to organize the place in which I spend most of my time.&lt;br /&gt;The place that keeps monsters away, and joy within. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put on my hip-waders, and equipped myself with garbage bags, fabreeze, and some good ol' determination and begun.&lt;br /&gt;Now, cleaning the actual part of my room, wasn't that bad... pick up some clothes, move things around. Not too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I opened my closet, I was crushed by a million pounds of junk that had accumulated through-out the year. My high hopes, and determination... along with the rest of my entire body were drowned in the biggest mess of life. Insert picture of the doom ... HERE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaCICSGJ1aI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Stu3atyRNQ0/s1600-h/Picture+381.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaCICSGJ1aI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Stu3atyRNQ0/s200/Picture+381.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305389933841208738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I gave up on that, but I did find my box of mmrs. &lt;br /&gt;Which is proving to be one of the most amazing trips through a box EVER. I found, my Art exam, in which I got the second highest grade(70/75), a pamphlet for 'Emanuel Bible Camp' ... Yeahhhhhhhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;Several sheets of foolscap, no doubt thieved from teachers during exams, because that's how rebellious I am.&lt;br /&gt;I've got some sheet music for 'Fur Elise', one of the best piano songs of life. &lt;br /&gt;Also found, were some pictures of my dog, I miss him so:(.&lt;br /&gt;AND, possibly the most hilarious drawings EVER, my 'Aliens'. An old history test, in which I got 61/59 on :D. I really do love History.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV instructions? Because I need to save those...&lt;br /&gt;*Gasp* BEDTIMEFORBOOTS!!! It's this book, that I bought at the book fair when I was in the first grade... and everynight for YEARS I would read it before I went to bed. &lt;br /&gt;Monopoly rules, just incase I forgot how to play..&lt;br /&gt;A manual for my keyboard...&lt;br /&gt;A poster ripped out of a magazine that has, a half naked Usher on one side, and Napoleon Dynamite on the other... I can assure you, it was ripped out for the Napoleon.&lt;br /&gt;Oh look!  another poster, with Jesse McArtney on one side, and the ever loved Orlando Bloom on the other.&lt;br /&gt;Annndd the magazine I ripped said posters out of, Sept 2005!!&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, the old book of choir music. Such a good time.. I still remember how most of those songs go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wow... What a trip. &lt;br /&gt;That was fun, although,  I still didn't clean my room. &lt;br /&gt;That's okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5001903340193802361?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5001903340193802361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5001903340193802361' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5001903340193802361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5001903340193802361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/looking-through-my-red-box-of-mmrs.html' title='Looking Through My Red Box Of Mmrs'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SaCICSGJ1aI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Stu3atyRNQ0/s72-c/Picture+381.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6313389788174952066</id><published>2009-02-19T08:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T16:09:20.525-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost a week...</title><content type='html'>It's been almost a whole entire week since I've written something!&lt;br /&gt;That's crazy talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is I've been super busy with school, I'm really far behind...and they just keep piling stuff on top of what I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;This is what I have to do for monday:&lt;br /&gt;-Write a 5-6 page paper. (How many pages do I have so far? ONE)&lt;br /&gt;-Create and paint a colour wheel, with 5 tints of all 12 colours.&lt;br /&gt;-Finish painting my Mandela with 5 tints and 5 shades of all 12 colours.&lt;br /&gt;-Make, bake, and paint body parts for Zombie movie trailer.&lt;br /&gt;-Get photos for three different subjects.&lt;br /&gt;-Put together a portfolio&lt;br /&gt;-Photoshop said photos.&lt;br /&gt;-Stop looking like a Zombie&lt;br /&gt;-GETSOMEDAMNSLEEP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been sleeping at ALL. It's horrid, I just keep having so much to do, and it's not like the stuff is hard, I mean ... come on... look at that list of stuff... It's just time consuming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've been so anti-social this week, because the truth is I just don't care if I talk to people, with the exception of a chosen few of course. If I could actually shut myself into my room and not leave for a week I think I'd be happy. I'm just sick and tired of so many people and their judgements, their whining, their faces too. People I thought who I'd like to be my friend, are actually annoying the fuck out of me, which is quite unfortunate.&lt;br /&gt;On that same note, my friendship with Sam, is turning out to be phenomenal. I'm actually thrilled that I met her. She's such a good listener, hilarious, an amazing artist, beautiful, and all around lovely. I'm just so thankful I have her as a friend right now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6313389788174952066?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6313389788174952066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6313389788174952066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6313389788174952066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6313389788174952066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/almost-week.html' title='Almost a week...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8079922470655181856</id><published>2009-02-12T19:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:39:48.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For the first time in a while...</title><content type='html'>I woke up with a smile. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had about 4 hours of sleep. But, for some odd reason, I was fully awake. Got up, opened my computer, changed the music from much loved Joy Division to a random album. It brought up one of my mix cd's from like 1956. Okay, maybe not 1956... but one of the first ones ever, and it was hilarious. I'm so glad I don't listen to music like that anymore. I then got out of bed, and was ready in like 5 minutes. I'm never ready that fast, normally I laze around for 50 years, then finally decided to get dressed, and make myself look presentable... And usually end up being late. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh! and I finally sat down with the 'rents de Becky. I told them how much I hated them treating me like I was 5 when it is quite clear that I'm not. It was good, we sat down and talked about how much they've been pissing me off with the whole keeping me locked away forever sort of deal. Not letting me have my own money. Telling me what I should plan to do with my life. It's just been horrible. Normally my parents aren't like this. I mean they care enough to make me want to save my money, but never going as far as to take it from me. Have always been supportive of the decisions I make with school. I just really don't know what's gotten into them. But I gave them a stern talkin' to, and now all is good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that my application is full, I just need to put together my portfolio and send that in. Then wait wait wait! :D(fingers crossed). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ps. One more thing, my friend &lt;a href="http://smashtheimage.blogspot.com/"&gt;Samantha&lt;/a&gt;(Rosa) has proven to me once again that she has amazing skills. As yesterday on a particularly unpleasant day she made me this(&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=179745&amp;amp;id=1660530024"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;). Totally brightened my day. Check out her blog, she posts some amazing drawings on there(just click her name up there ^^). Recently added a really cool piece of concept art for our Zombie movie project.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPs. Sorry, I forgot... another thing. Colin is coming home this weekend. Under the circumstances, it sucks. But I sure do miss that boy, and can't wait to give him a hug :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done now for sure. =]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8079922470655181856?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8079922470655181856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8079922470655181856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8079922470655181856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8079922470655181856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/for-first-time-in-while.html' title='For the first time in a while...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-442147263138853886</id><published>2009-02-07T21:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T22:32:06.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chk Chk Chk CHk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk</title><content type='html'>Apparently.... &lt;div&gt;According to Safari web browser&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chk is spelled incorrectly... however CHk is not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This baffles me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm.  Ah well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, today I went out for photos. The first time I just went out to take photos. I had to get some for school of course, but I also took some just for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And while I was out on my photo adventure, I walked on the frozen ocean. For the first time in my ENTIRE LIFE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I live on an Island. I've always lived on said island, and I've never, not once, walked on the frozen ocean. I feel like my life is now complete. Like so complete, that if I were to die tomorrow, I'd be fine with that... Well No. No I wouldn't .... But I'm pretty darn happy. =D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I walked in snow that was like all the way up to my HIP. Which, really isn't that far I spose because I have short legs, but STILL. It was deep snow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And on my way walking back from the frozen ocean, I met a man. A man with a camera. He too was out for photos. Our paths met. And this is exactly what happened. Our eyes met in a friendly hello. After that we both gazed toward the others camera. He had a Pentax. Decent camera, with a 55mm zoomlense. Not too shabby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He informed me I'd missed the para-sailers earlier that day, they'd been 'zig-zaging in around the smelt houses' apparently. It's quite unfortunate I missed it, but I got a few decent photos I think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Awh! Titanic is on TV. I do love that movie. And I do love myself some Leonardo DiCaprio. Now, I know most people aren't really fans, but in this particular movie, it makes me love him. Also he's got some pretty nice eyes, lovely green eyes. I do know someone with lovely blue eyes though =) They're very pretty. But yeah, Leo DiCaprio, his eyes are pretty class. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I shall go and watch this now :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-442147263138853886?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/442147263138853886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=442147263138853886' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/442147263138853886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/442147263138853886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk.html' title='Chk Chk Chk CHk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk Chk'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-8803558321951351185</id><published>2009-02-03T22:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:31:41.391-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait, What just happened?</title><content type='html'>Just happened so fast, like a whirlwind of text flying around my head.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just feel horrible about the whole situation, physically and mentally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I could just go back in time, and just erase all the stupid things I said, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I know I can't. They've been said, and I can't take them back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really am sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-8803558321951351185?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/8803558321951351185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=8803558321951351185' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8803558321951351185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/8803558321951351185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/wait-what-just-happened.html' title='Wait, What just happened?'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7763383600710344012</id><published>2009-02-01T23:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T00:10:27.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop Being Chinese.</title><content type='html'>Not actually Chinese, because you aren't chinese... &lt;div&gt;Just stop being themostannoyingpersonever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;kthxbai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really wish it was easy for me to say "Is there something wrong?". But at the same time, if I do work up the courage to ask such a question, I'm afraid of what the answer might be.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just afraid really, which is why I'm letting it get to me, instead of confronting the issue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never been good at confrontation. So, I will continue to let it get to me, and just let it slide. Because what I feel now, is nothing compared to what I'll feel if it all goes to hell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've a friend, from Ireland! Woo. He's a great guy really, one of the better people I've ever met.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was feeling particularly low today, and he managed to cheer me up, sending me hilarious youtube links, some funny pictures, and some of the best emoticons ever. And it was great, so for him, I send a thanks. Thanks for being AWESOME.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Carole, and for Carole, who is also awesome. Because she cheers me up too, simply for being her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for Kelsey, an old friend whom I'd lost touch with, but we've been talking a lot lately. She was my best friend some years back, but then she moved away, and we didn't talk as much, and then barely at all. We've just recently started talking again, and it's like she never left... I'm catching up on her life, and she's catching up on mine.  I missed her! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's really all I need to say for today! And also, that you guys are phenomenal, and I just love reading your blogs! Thanks to you guys as well :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7763383600710344012?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7763383600710344012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7763383600710344012' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7763383600710344012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7763383600710344012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/02/stop-being-chinese.html' title='Stop Being Chinese.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3261998344353269361</id><published>2009-01-29T20:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:42:40.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been working on a cocktail...</title><content type='html'>... called 'Grounds for Divorce'. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm beginning to realize more and more that in order to do what I want, to be where I want, to be who I'm going to be, I most definitely need to get away from here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's not like I don't like it here, as I've specified numerous times, because I quite like PEI...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's just .. dull, and uninspiring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today in communications we were talking about making resumes for possible jobs, we'd want. At first thought, I was like "Alright, this is going to be easy... No problem". But then I started thinking about it, and I really have no idea what I want to do. I'm not even sure why I'm in school anymore. I mean, I know school is something I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to do, and not just something I feel like I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; to do, and so I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought a lot about doing photojournalism, and I'm still thinking that eventually. That's where I want to end up I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it would be most interesting, but at the same time, I feel as though I've not seen enough of the world(or &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; for that matter). I haven't really been past the neighbors front lawn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In order for me to photograph, and write about the world, I need to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; it. I need to see it from my own eyes, first hand. Not just through &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;books&lt;/span&gt;, or &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;photos&lt;/span&gt;, or &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;film&lt;/span&gt;. I don't just want to know about the world, I want to experience it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was speaking with Carole on MSN the other day, and we spoke about things that neither of us had really told anyone, and that lead to a conversation about the parents, which in turn somehow lead to us discussing what I wanted. And after some careful thinking I want 3 things, first and foremost; I want my parents to understand that I'm not who they think I am.  Next; .... And last, but certainly not least; I want to be happy, And I believe that if I manage to get the first two, I will be such, and if not completely vast amounts more than I am right now. A sunny day would even cheer me up. Yes, a sunny day would be nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spy a boy, I spy a girl. I spy the worst place, in the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3261998344353269361?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3261998344353269361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3261998344353269361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3261998344353269361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3261998344353269361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-been-working-on-cocktail.html' title='I&apos;ve been working on a cocktail...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5335676463432883947</id><published>2009-01-26T20:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T20:25:01.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I want you</title><content type='html'>'re music!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, so I'm looking to broaden my musical horizons. And what I though would be a fun way to to do so, would be to get you lovely people to suggest and album, or a couple by different artists that I should look into. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like practically anything, you don't even have to think I might like it, just tell me to get it, and I'll see what I can do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm actually really excited about this, because music is what keeps me going, when all is said and done. Without music, I wouldn't be who I am today, and I know this for a fact. And along with a couple people, it's been the only reason I--I'm not really sure what the word I'm looking for here is-- Am? am here? I dunno, without getting too much into my personal life, I'll just say it's really important. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, in order for me to get to know you a bit better, I want you to tell me your favourite album of all time, or even your current favourite album. Both perhaps? Maybe not your favourite, maybe one that reminds you of someone that makes you happy, a best friend, sibling, parent, dog. Could be one that helped you through a tough time. Or even an album that just plain makes you wish the world was as amazing as that album. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With the album, tell me why though. Don't just give me an album and not tell me why I should look into it:D I mean, I still will ... But like I said, I want to get to know you guys a bit betta :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My current favourite albums :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Different Class - Pulp &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Seldom Seen Kid - Elbow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both recommended by guys I'm very fond of, and so they remind me of each person, and are both equally amazing albums. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5335676463432883947?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5335676463432883947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5335676463432883947' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5335676463432883947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5335676463432883947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-want-you.html' title='I want you'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7230685160079519474</id><published>2009-01-25T14:42:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T15:36:49.434-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><title type='text'>Branch-Rice HATES me.</title><content type='html'>I fell down the stairs last night. Yep. Well, it was more like this morning.. close to 2 or maybe 3 in the am of course. I needed a beverage so I was sneaking down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.&lt;div&gt;That was until I slipped and fell down the stairs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happened was, I slipped on a few steps... no big deal, then I tried to get up. Hah. Bad idea, because then I just missed a stair, and tumbled down 4 or 5 stairs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I stopped when I hit the wall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With my face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go ahead, you can laugh. It's a funny story, I laughed as it happened. ^-^&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, Karen started a bedroom tag, and I was so pumped to do it. But my camera zoom is like over 9000, so without even zooming in, it's hella zoomed it. I tried to get a picture of my room, and I got... window. Which, you know would work out fine if we were doing a window tag. But, we aren't. *sigh*.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I've really not much to say, I spose I should get back to toiling away at hours of homework that my teacher thinks I can get done in one weekend :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7230685160079519474?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7230685160079519474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7230685160079519474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7230685160079519474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7230685160079519474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/branch-rice-hates-me.html' title='Branch-Rice HATES me.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1296133873532795337</id><published>2009-01-24T00:43:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:43:41.399-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1296133873532795337?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1296133873532795337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1296133873532795337' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1296133873532795337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1296133873532795337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-i-watched-film.html' title=''/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4514742013121515306</id><published>2009-01-21T18:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T19:32:46.259-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Make Nutritious Snacks.</title><content type='html'>I sang today, &lt;div&gt;but it wasn't good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I drew a picture today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I didn't finish it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw a tractor trailer full of tires, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not really sure why though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I missed someone today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but didn't have the chance to tell them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was given some advice today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I didn't take it right away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should have gone to my own school today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I went to philosophy with a friend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard a song on the radio I liked, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;can't remember the name of it though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was going to visit someone today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I kept walking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed today, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I felt a bit happier. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, was a lovely day. Skipped school, hit up a philosophy class, perused the streets with a faux british accent(horribly by the way), just had a lovely time. In this philosophy class I learned about ambiguities, and syntactic, and semantic ones, here are some of the examples the teacher gave us, now keep in mind these are actual headlines:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Miners Refuse To Work After Death&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New Study Of Obesity Looks For Larger Test Group&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Local High School Drop-Outs Cut In Half&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elderly Often Burn Victims. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then he said something like "I love philosophy more than my wife"  ... "Now does that mean my wife loves philosophy? Or I love philosophy more than I love my wife? And there's also the concept of love... what is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;anyway??"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed, and below is a diagram of how this man draws a cat. (Side note I just spelled cat with a k, and wondered why it was wrong O.o) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SXeuc-JKQ6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/nLpTcdGhEVw/s200/cattt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MS PAINT FTW. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's all folks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;♥ b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A sign reads:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Summit Centre - Oral and Facial Surgery"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;B says "You should go in there and get some facial surgery, because I don't really like your face"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kirs says "You should go in there and get some oral..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the same time B says "What's wrong with my teeth??:(" WHILST Kirs says "Pop that cherry."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4514742013121515306?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4514742013121515306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4514742013121515306' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4514742013121515306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4514742013121515306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/kids-make-nutritious-snacks.html' title='Kids Make Nutritious Snacks.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SXeuc-JKQ6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/nLpTcdGhEVw/s72-c/cattt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1319333467984098386</id><published>2009-01-20T18:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T18:59:54.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was a long day.</title><content type='html'>A very, very, very long day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sat around my room, working on homework , listening to music, cleaning up a little. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't go to school today, because basically I didn't feel like talking to anyone. (And a different reason, but I don't wanna get into that).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I honestly don't have that much to say, I feel like my mind is a big jumble of empty, if that makes any sense? I'm thinking probably not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be patient with me guys, it may talk a while for me to snap back into my regular writing habits. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1319333467984098386?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1319333467984098386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1319333467984098386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1319333467984098386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1319333467984098386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-was-long-day.html' title='It was a long day.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6207355460607207465</id><published>2009-01-19T18:47:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:45:20.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Centre Of The City</title><content type='html'>I went to visit Colin  this weekend, and it was so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I've been relying on music a lot more than I usually do. I've been going through a tough time mentally, and there's a few songs that I keep listening to because for some reason they help with the mental confusion. And I thought, hey why not share that list of songs with mah blogger friends :) Because you guys truly are wonderful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The songs that have been played frequently on my iTunes are:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rainbow Veins - Owl City&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ten Thousand Lines - PlayRadioPlay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe - The Cranberries&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sea Of Love - Cat Power&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Messes Of Men - mewithoutYou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoppipolla - Sigur Ros&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rain Awhile - Stabilo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Midna's Suite - Z.R.E.O Team&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sound Of Water - Sarah Slean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stare - Marjorie Fair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neon Tiger - The Killers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything Will Be Alright - The Killers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atmosphere - Joy Division&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shadowplay - Joy Division&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No Lucifer - British Sea Power&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little Bird - The Weepies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each of these songs, has their own reason as to why the help, and I'm not really going to get into all of them individually because we would be here for days, and this is already a super long blog post as it is. So I think I'm going to end it there, because I really need to get my room cleaned, I just needed to put that down, even though I didn't really write as to why I've been so frazzled in the mind lately... But that's alright.. Perhaps another time.  :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;♥ b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Handlebars - Flobots. Good song. Just saying. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6207355460607207465?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6207355460607207465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6207355460607207465' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6207355460607207465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6207355460607207465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-went-to-visit-colin-this-weekend-and.html' title='In The Centre Of The City'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-944860782949557336</id><published>2009-01-17T00:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T00:45:11.247-04:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL quote.</title><content type='html'>We were watching Becoming Jane, which incase you didn't know, is about Jane Austen.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Movie starts, Anne Hathaway, playing Jane Austen shows on screen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin "So... Is that Anne Frank?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Becky  ".............." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin stares .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Becky "Jane Austen."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin "Well.. then who's Anne Frank?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Becky "That JEWISH Girl"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin  "Ohhhhhh"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*shakes head*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-944860782949557336?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/944860782949557336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=944860782949557336' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/944860782949557336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/944860782949557336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/lol-quote.html' title='LOL quote.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5211044372361592623</id><published>2009-01-16T14:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T14:34:55.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm at COLIN'S</title><content type='html'>WOOOO.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much excitement. I'm sooo pumped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's just over there putting away his unmentionables. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OMG HE'S FINALLY DONE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOO MANY PEOPLE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;kthxbai&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts;b&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5211044372361592623?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5211044372361592623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5211044372361592623' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5211044372361592623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5211044372361592623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-at-colins.html' title='I&apos;m at COLIN&apos;S'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6826893247694636991</id><published>2009-01-14T19:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:28:02.076-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I went fishing today</title><content type='html'>Well not really, because I don't fish, nor do I ever want to. &lt;div&gt;The thought of just sitting there in a boat, waiting and waiting to catch a fish, just doesn't appeal to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even virtually it's not fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not fun at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I had some food today! Which was good, although I didn't eat much. Half a muffin, a bowl of Lucky Charms, and some bar-clams. Woo. Not all at the same time of course, because that would be gross. Even thinking of it is making me feel a bit more ill than I already am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't been doing much of anything the past couple of days, due to feeling mentally, and physically unwell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And by mentally unwell, I don't mean that I'm crazy or anything, I just had some things being tossed around my brain that I didn't want there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All is well now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gah! I can no longer fish anymore. This game is just getting boring now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just plain boring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And today was followed by general happy, minus the sick. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And new facebook friends :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6826893247694636991?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6826893247694636991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6826893247694636991' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6826893247694636991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6826893247694636991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-went-fishing-today.html' title='I went fishing today'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3871363993057756927</id><published>2009-01-13T19:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T16:18:08.504-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Understand this song, But it's beautiful anyhow.</title><content type='html'>And so he said "Cheer up and dry your damp eyes". &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried, I really did. But, I just couldn't, I still can't. I don't much care for cheering up right now. I told myself that next time I was feeling low I would try Tinne's  'list of good things' thing. I'm sitting here, and this is all the I can think of that's good right now:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm home alone. Now, I bet you're like, home alone?? Wouldn't that make you more upset? The answer is no, there's just always so many people around, I like it when no one is here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really far in Twilight Princess. Which is good, considering I play it all the time. Although, I did get frustrated with it, so I had to turn it off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought a box of Lucky Charms today. A big box, they were on sale.  Now I don't know about you, but thre's something about a cereal full of marshmallows that just makes it impossible to be sad whilst eating them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's it. I spose it helped a little bit. But not really. Oh well, I tried it. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I've contracted the plague. Possibly not the plague exactly, but an illness yes. You know the one, that's been hovering over the maritimes looking for victims to step out of their houses, all unaware. Yeah... That's the one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ho-lee! I just dropped my computer on my face. How lovely, now it hurts. Urg. Oh! Nevermind, that's been taken care of for me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH!OH OH OH OH Ohhhhhhohohohohoh!!! I just remembered something else to add to that list:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to Colin's this weekend!!! Eeeeeeee! So much excitement there. I can't even wait actually, I wish it was Friday already. A whole weekend with Colin! Yay!! I do love that kid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19'th birthday's FTW :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh, Sarah Slean and the beauty that is her music. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's alright love, you're in good hands. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3871363993057756927?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3871363993057756927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3871363993057756927' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3871363993057756927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3871363993057756927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-cant-understand-this-song-but-its.html' title='I Can&apos;t Understand this song, But it&apos;s beautiful anyhow.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-2153074891982957376</id><published>2009-01-12T19:17:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T19:46:03.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A Mountain, Well... I climbed one.</title><content type='html'>I'm horrible at cheering people up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Especially when I'm not too much in a cheery mood myself.  There are two people who occupy a large part of my heart, both obviously differently, but I love them both very much.  Each of them with a different problem, both problems I don't know how to solve. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was a much needed day of caffeine, photos, friends and ice-cream. Although, the amount of ice-cream and caffeine, I could have... and probably should have done without.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like I'm going to be ill. Gah! I don't know if it's because of the like... OH. MY.FUCK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I accidentally a half a box of ice-cream. Kris accidentally the other half. It was very unwise on both of our parts, but hilarious none-the-less. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we decided that the one bite left was too much for us to handle, we pulled over on the side of the road, and tossed the box into the ditch. Well.. tried. The box, hit the tire and like ricocheted onto the road, where it will remain until it decomposes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite everything, today was a generally hilarious day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SWvVxavhVcI/AAAAAAAAAEE/gBV3LZHiBqM/s200/ASadArtGallery+126.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I climbed a mountain, and almost died 1500 times. See that? Skillz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I climbed like 5 feet and had a small heart-attack. I'm terribly afraid of heights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ps. Again, I say that if I could be sad for eternity, so that those I love could be happy... I'd do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.p.s. I'll never eat ice-cream again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-2153074891982957376?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/2153074891982957376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=2153074891982957376' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2153074891982957376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/2153074891982957376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-mountain-well-i-climbed-one.html' title='I&apos;m A Mountain, Well... I climbed one.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SWvVxavhVcI/AAAAAAAAAEE/gBV3LZHiBqM/s72-c/ASadArtGallery+126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4222538410054979004</id><published>2009-01-11T20:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:29:58.937-03:00</updated><title type='text'>He was A BSB....</title><content type='html'>So, I spent the weekend at my sisters.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joys. *rolls eyes*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I'm sure I've been over this numerous times, she and I aren't the same anymore. Well... She's the same. I'm not. This became very clear to me when I was telling her of my plans to leave Canada when I was finished of school. Now, she took this as me saying "I hate home". Not true, I love home, I really do. I just need to get away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But all this is, is me leaving her. That's all she cares about, is not having me around so she can judge everything I do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drives me INSANE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ran into Kristie while I was there though, and invited her to come to Lindy's for a bit, because I needed more &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;interaction than just Lindy. So Kristie came, and that was good times, we played trivial pursuit. I remember Kristie had this one question that went somewhere along the lines of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Who told the crowd he had been sober for 2 months just before being asked if he wanted a glass of Champagne(Nectar of the Gods) by Jamie FOxx" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kristie turns over the card, "I don't even know who this is"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Becky "Hmm... Well just ask us the question"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So then she proceeded with the question, Lindy and I didn't know the answer. So Kristie read the answer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"A.J. MacLean"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My jaw dropped.  I stared at her in complete disbelief. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the while I'm wearing my Backstreet Boys shirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What? Should I know who he is?" She asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Kristie, he's one of the BSB's"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm appalled at her lack of BSB knowledge. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a different note whilst I was being held in the Temple of Doom, I had no internet, AND my phone was dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll have to educate Kristie is BSBisms. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4222538410054979004?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4222538410054979004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4222538410054979004' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4222538410054979004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4222538410054979004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/he-was-bsb.html' title='He was A BSB....'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7035755805444263028</id><published>2009-01-08T19:18:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:31:40.870-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I have an addiction.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, there are things that just take over your life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I hope I won't let it completely consume me, but the latest Zelda game acquired by me, is beginning to do such. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Curse you Twilight Princess! CURSE YOU. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SWaMZoidf8I/AAAAAAAAAD8/ehTTH5O5dsQ/s200/Picture+322.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, A drew this for a friend. Just to show you how addicted I am to that game right now. I can't wait for it to be finished. Really. This is getting insane. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On to more important things, well not really important just stuff that isn't Zelda related.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm starting to shut myself off from people, and I haven't been really noticing until today.  And I mean, I'm not too much of a socialite during the day as it is. I was taking a gander through my recent chat logs, with some people, as yes, I quite frequently do, and I noticed that most of my answers and replies are very short, and had very little or no substance behind them.  And I really don't know why, and I know it's not because of the Zelda addiction, this is recent. I really don't know what's going on there, but since I have noticed it... I'm working on making sure I don't continue with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And in other news, while out for lunch yesterday, I mentioned that I had no social life, which due to living an hour away from school/friends results in such. I continued to say that me finding an apartment (should I choose to live on PEI next year) is crucial. G, suggested that he and I get an apartment together next year. I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going to Lindy's(the sista's) tomorrow, for the night. A part of me is excited because I'll be in Ch'town, but then... GAH! Lindy. Lindy, Lindy, Lindy, LINDY. She can get uber annoying sometimes. Which is unfortunate. She's really judgmental to, which is why I've stopped telling her about my life. Because she'll be like "JUDGEJUDGEJUDGE" And I don't want that. Nope, nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But maybe, I'll stop cutting myself off from people, maybe I won't live in PEI, maybe I'll tell Lindy things. But then again, maybe I won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never been good with maybe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7035755805444263028?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7035755805444263028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7035755805444263028' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7035755805444263028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7035755805444263028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-have-addiction.html' title='I have an addiction.'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SWaMZoidf8I/AAAAAAAAAD8/ehTTH5O5dsQ/s72-c/Picture+322.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6119244655120699570</id><published>2009-01-07T19:02:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:28:20.929-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So far...</title><content type='html'>So good...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2009 is turning out to be pretty decent so far, I mean there've been a couple bad days, but there always is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got my student loan money yesterday! Wahoo, so I of course bought a new phone, and Twlight Princess. Incase y you didn't know, that's a Zelda game. It's pretty decent so far, but I'm being more and more addicted to it. AHH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also bought some winter boots. Because, living in Canada winter boots are an essential item to your wardrobe I think. Anyway, they're fuzzy, and I like them. Fuzzy boots. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah, school is turning out to be great so far, and I'm really liking my classes this semester. We painted all morning, I love painting. Everyone was complaining about having painting and stuff to do, but I was like PSSH! I love painting! So that's good, we also did photography yesterday :) Yay!!Photography holds a large part of my heart. We had to pick photographers for our final project today, pick a photographer from the list, and do a presentation. So, I asked her about the sign up sheet, because if Ansel Adams was on that list, I was going to have him. Branch-Rice went to her office to get it, then I quickly ran up to the cafeteria to get some sugar for my tea. When I got back down Branch-Rice was back, with the sheet of course. Looked at it. *GASP* Nate stole Ansel. I was not pleased. So I had to go through the list, and try to sell one of the other photographers for him to do, so I could have Ansel. Took me like THE WHOLE LIST, but I did it. I got Ansel :) February 3 = Presentation. 45 minutes to one hour long. I HATE presentations. But, I spose my class only has 10 people in it. Actually Nine. Nine and a Goron. Won't be too bad. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my new phone, it's pretty sweet. I can text INTERNATIONALLY =D. Yesssssss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAH! Check this out (&lt;a href="http://meninhats.com/d/20021103.html"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt;). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, money savings is going well. Hooray for saving. I'm usually horrible at saving money. I'm too much of an impulse buyer. I buy things I don't even need. For example, if somethings on sale, and it's a decent price... I'll probably buy it. Chances are it would be something like this &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Becky walks into a store, and peruses through the aisles,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What's this?" She exclaims! Her eyes have met a sale sign. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'50% off' *gasp* She gasps, "that's such a good price!! I should buy it"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She puts the item in her shopping cart, and proceeds to the checkout, once the item is paid for she drives home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Becky gets home she shows of her new Meat Grinder.* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Particularly useful for the Vegetarian that I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to Zelda I presume :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;♥ b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. We did figure drawing again today. Another man. He's a professional biker or something. He stood realllllllllllllllllly close to me. Whilst in the nude. It was slightly awkward. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.P.S To check out the amazing that is Ansel Adams, go here. (&lt;a href="http://www.anseladams.com/"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6119244655120699570?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6119244655120699570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6119244655120699570' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6119244655120699570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6119244655120699570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-far.html' title='So far...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5569234149958373824</id><published>2009-01-02T16:25:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:36:03.486-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Are Reminding Me Of You</title><content type='html'>I've been feeling really weird a lot lately, and I'm not sure what the cause of this is. I do know however that there are some things that I would like to say. Some truths I just can't manage to get out, so I figure, AH! My blog! A perfect place to come and write something so personal, that I would never be able to put anywhere else. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A list of truths contain such:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm beginning to actually really dislike my family. I know, I know, this is a horrible thing. And I'll love them no matter what, but I feel like they're just holding me back. Keeping me trapped in this place, unable to ever leave. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to be happy. I haven't been feeling much of anything lately, and all I want is to feel at least a tiny bit of happy. Now, I'm not going to get into the reasons behind this, but I just want to be happy. Scratch that, I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; to be happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm bored. With everything, with my house, with school, with no job, with my artwork, with my photos. Just bored. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't believe in God anymore. I used to with all of my heart, and everything that I was. Too much has happened in my life, which led me to believe I'd be abandoned by 'God'. There was a point where I did believe, I just questioned it a lot. I'm now to the point where I do &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; believe, and nothing can be done to change that. It's just how it's going to be. Well, until Jesus comes down and talks to me himself. Until then though, nada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really do love PEI. Just there's so much about it that makes me smile, the beaches, the people, the communities, the culture. It's just really a great place. But the thing is, I'm growing tired of it.  I need a change of pace, a change of culture. Just a change really, one that PEI can't provide me with.  So when money is stable, when school is done I will leave. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the last one that's been jumping around my brain lately is: I don't know who I am.Colin tells me, I'm Becky Ann, my parents are Cindy and Lloyd, I was born on a beautiful spring day in May in the Prince County Hospital, I have three siblings: one older sister, and two younger twin brothers. All of these things are true, yes. But those are just facts about me...I just...I... I don't know who I am, and it's taken a lot of thinking, and a lot of questioning to realize this. But today, I was just sat here thinking, and I thought to myself "Who are you?" And no answer came about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I need home, and I need PEI, and I need my friends to help me realize who I am, but I think I need to be away from them for a bit to realize this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5569234149958373824?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5569234149958373824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5569234149958373824' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5569234149958373824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5569234149958373824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-are-reminding-me-of-you.html' title='Things Are Reminding Me Of You'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-6583603481782313221</id><published>2008-12-29T23:25:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:02:29.531-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll leave when the wind blows</title><content type='html'>I had a panic attack last night. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are really unpleasant things, I couldn't breath and everything felt like the world was going to crash. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Horrid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not to mention, I don't even know why it happened. I was asleep one minute then the next. HORRENDOUS-NESS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, that's all said and done with, and hopefully won't happen for quite sometime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH! Fun times were had a Evan's. I really like my friends. I'm so glad I have 'em. Even when they disappear when I need to talk to them *coughCOLINcough*. But no, srsly guys. You're just amazing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like you guys a whole lot :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't want any awkward do we. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;♥ b&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PIGGYBACKSALLAROUND&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-6583603481782313221?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/6583603481782313221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=6583603481782313221' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6583603481782313221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/6583603481782313221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/ill-leave-when-wind-blows.html' title='I&apos;ll leave when the wind blows'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3871190354682977573</id><published>2008-12-28T21:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T21:10:24.248-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>*sigh*&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want things to be like this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something is off inside me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3871190354682977573?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3871190354682977573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3871190354682977573' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3871190354682977573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3871190354682977573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-7582567880778384539</id><published>2008-12-27T10:39:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:03:21.232-03:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kind Of Fun You Only Dream About....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(255, 155, 137);   line-height: 23px; font-family:Times;font-size:15px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This could be fun guys! Leave me you're name and I'll do this thang :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;COMMENT WITH YOUR NAME, AND:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 15px; font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. I'll respond with something random about you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. I'll tell you which song or movie you remind me of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. I'll pick a food substance to throw at you in the school cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me (if possible, if not, I'll say something that only makes sense to me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. I'll tell you my first memory of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. I'll ask you something I've always wondered about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. I'll tell you my favorite thing about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;9. If you play, you MUST post this on y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ours. ( You don't HAVE to, but if you want to it could be fun!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;COLIN :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. You have a pair of Chucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Song: Believe Me Natalie - Teh Killers.. I won't get into the details, but basically it makes me happy, and so do you. Movie : WANTED(because you can do all those things, just like me[lulz])&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Jell-O ... Orange Jell-O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. 8-) (GUESS WHO?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. I can't remember that far, sorry. :\&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. Elephants, not because you're FAT or anything. But because I like Elephants, and I like you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. Why do you worry so much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. My favourite thing about you is: how easy you are to talk to, you listen. I love it. And I love YOU Harry. And you're a super-fun-awesome-wicked-cool-party-kickass-time :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;TINNE! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. The pronunciation of your name baffles me :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Waving Flags - British Sea Power. It's a good song, very poetic, very charming. Kinda how I picture you :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Cotton Candy. Of the blue variety. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. A beret is not as appealing as one might think. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5.  This is what went through my mind "WHA!?!? Who's THIS??? *GASP* BELGIUM?????? .... Oh, sweet blog. *followed*"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. Giraffe. Not because I think you're freakishly tall or anything. But for some reason if you were an animal I'd picture it to be a giraffe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. How do you pronounce your name??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. Well I don't know much about you just yet, but I really enjoy your blogs. ^.^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;♥ kirsj.™!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. You live in the bird sub-division.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Sweet Dreams - Air Supply, and a movie... Well Ghost World of course. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Hot dogs. Not like... a hot dog but a dog, that is hot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4.  It's On RECORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. Well it was in Gr. 10 english. When we did those LAME ass projects. And I though "Who's this guy? IDK who he is"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. Dragons. Yeah they're animals. And you would be one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. Why are your feet so dusty?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. How much you know about me, and how easy you are to talk to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(43, 60, 11);   line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;evan! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. You have that on unitard which should be burned, but it fun anyhow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Shake A Fist - Hot Chip. Because of that one time when we were in your van. And it was amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Rosary Beads. Yeah. I think that could provide an interesting food fight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. Pilons in the SIS parking lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. Honestly, I vaguely remember you in Jr. High, but then It was really in Gr. When ... Well you know that one person followed  you often. And I was like "GRR, he's stealing mah bff". But now you're mah(one of) BFF:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. And owl. I give no reason. But you would be an owl. I know it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. Is there a reason you wear different socks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. How everything you do is just beautiful. You're a beautiful person, I love it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);   line-height: 16px;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);   line-height: 16px;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;carROLE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. You are Acadian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2.  Kisses and Cake - ICAN'TREMEMBERBYWHO. But it's a very beautiful song. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Croquembouche. Yes. Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. A quote that only you have seen "......................"  "A succession of dots? That grammatical bastard!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. OMG A NEW GERL. *ditch* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. A unicorn. Mhmm. You remind me of unicorns. When I see you I think "Unicorn. Right there."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. Why are you so great?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 16px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8. My favourite thing about you, is how you can take everything I say, and turn it around to make me happy. You listen, to console, you care, you relate. My favourite thing about you, in short(LULZ), is that you exist! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-7582567880778384539?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/7582567880778384539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=7582567880778384539' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7582567880778384539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/7582567880778384539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/kind-of-fun-you-only-dream-about.html' title='The Kind Of Fun You Only Dream About....'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-4303219154716876139</id><published>2008-12-25T18:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T18:16:59.011-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All The Streetlights Glowing</title><content type='html'>Happen to be just like moments, passing right in front of me. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yay. I really do enjoy Christmas most times, although there was something about this one that set it off for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did get everything I asked for though which was sweet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are the highlights:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-808's &amp;amp; Heartbreaks (You know, that Kanye West CD)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-World of Warcraft (Yes, I've become nerdy like that)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-LEG WARMERS (YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sweat-pants (So I can go to school looking like a dirtbag)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pj's (two pairs! I love pj's)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Jarhead ( I love that movie)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course I got quite a few other things, OH! I also got an external hard-drive with 160GB of space. Probably my favourite gift. My computer was getting pretty full, like I had about 5GB of 99.6 or something like that left. Which is ridiculous because I only just got my computer about a year ago! Agh! It's crazy. But, on one hand, I do take a lot of photos. It's what I do. And guess how many photos I transferred over to the external hard-drive? 10577, and no I did not add an extra 7, there was TENTHOUSANDFIVEHUNDREDSEVENTYSEVEN photos on my computer, at 6+ megapixels each, and more recently 12megapixels. HOLYCOW!!!! It just blew my mind actually. So then I decided it would be best to move all my music over onto that also, and there was about 3582 songs. WAH!?! Also blew my mind. So my mind was exploded twice. I now have over 56GB of free space on my computer. Yay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you all had a good day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somethings still missing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-4303219154716876139?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/4303219154716876139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=4303219154716876139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4303219154716876139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/4303219154716876139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-streetlights-glowing.html' title='All The Streetlights Glowing'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-492518032186479146</id><published>2008-12-24T10:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T12:06:37.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Go Wasting Your Emotion</title><content type='html'>I'm cleaning the house, and blogging at the same time, because I'm a multi-tasker like that :)&lt;div&gt;I kicked the laundry down the stairs when I accidentally my santa! Oh noes! Ah well I'm sure he'll be fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty sure my neighbors are going to love me. I'm home alone, thus my music is hella loud, and it's the Mamma Mia soundtrack. Right, Let's get to cleaning shall we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The little kids in the park are getting quite a show :D Also, I just dropped a knife that almost landed on my feet! :\bw&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, this is actually going really fast, considering I'm blogging/making tea/rearranging/talking to joe/dancing. It's brilliant!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Break time? I think so. Well I've dont just about everything my Mama wanted me to do, in an hour, which considering all the things I had to do, is great time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh, tea, what a lovely thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ya'know I spent the whole night thinking instead of sleeping. Which really when you think about it wasn't really a sensible thing but I did it anyway. I thought about many a thing. Mostly because my parents decided to take the time and yell at me for no particular reason last night. So I thought about leaving, and where I would leave to. The where in which I want to go is really no mystery. I just wonder if I could do it alone. I want to say yes, but there's a part of me that doesn't think I can. I just worry about everything, and ... Well it's just nonesense really, and I don't know why I worry about some of the things I do. Alas. it can not be helped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course I thought of numerous other things that I won't get into just now, but.. I've written the down so they will be posted soon enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to cleaning &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lay all your love on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-492518032186479146?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/492518032186479146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=492518032186479146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/492518032186479146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/492518032186479146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/dont-go-wasting-your-emotion.html' title='Don&apos;t Go Wasting Your Emotion'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-5003727600458194433</id><published>2008-12-23T19:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T20:03:36.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gingerbread FTW</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So, my family made gingerbread cookies today. We do it every year, a bit of family bonding if you will. And even though we're all pretty old, we still love it. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the result. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7e71DBqI/AAAAAAAAADU/zUIrBr7Qjik/s1600-h/Gingabread+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7e71DBqI/AAAAAAAAADU/zUIrBr7Qjik/s200/Gingabread+032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283139609268782754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are mine. Sparkle face, and that's 'sposed to be me. But, they're in love :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7evdaZ2I/AAAAAAAAADM/gFyO7VlHZKQ/s1600-h/Gingabread+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7evdaZ2I/AAAAAAAAADM/gFyO7VlHZKQ/s200/Gingabread+045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283139605948426082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nate made this one! His leg broke. Note the surprised face :O&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7eEDDheI/AAAAAAAAADE/GadxoEA1uLU/s1600-h/Gingabread+039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7eEDDheI/AAAAAAAAADE/GadxoEA1uLU/s200/Gingabread+039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283139594295150050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one is Lindy's. Just look at that face, I couldn't stop laughing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7d5jGUiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/pxqwxeEVk5c/s1600-h/Gingabread+038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7d5jGUiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/pxqwxeEVk5c/s200/Gingabread+038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283139591476761122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was one left over, so Nate and I decided to split it in half vertically, each decorate a side then ice him back together. He's pretty sweet I think. (I did the red side)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7daXkTUI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Mg9p60lXrc8/s1600-h/Gingabread+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7daXkTUI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Mg9p60lXrc8/s200/Gingabread+019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283139583106895170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Brandon did this one. I think it looks JUST like him :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF4-vI1S5I/AAAAAAAAACE/k3-tyxqaB7M/s200/Picture+282.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's the one I made, it's supposed to be me. Only black, because I had no white icing :D I've yet to eat it. Not sure if I want to ... EVER :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;hearts; b&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-5003727600458194433?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/5003727600458194433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=5003727600458194433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5003727600458194433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/5003727600458194433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/gingerbread-ftw.html' title='Gingerbread FTW'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SVF7e71DBqI/AAAAAAAAADU/zUIrBr7Qjik/s72-c/Gingabread+032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-1378707889693771952</id><published>2008-12-21T20:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T01:55:12.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring back Pangea!</title><content type='html'>kthx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-1378707889693771952?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/1378707889693771952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=1378707889693771952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1378707889693771952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/1378707889693771952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/bring-back-pangea.html' title='Bring back Pangea!'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-469882977671749026</id><published>2008-12-20T16:02:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:39:49.296-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And from your lips...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;... he drew the Hallelujah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SU7YZdctcQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fPd0M4KGgiQ/s200/Picture+276.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I won a chair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's actually a pretty sweet chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It belonged to Todd MacLean. And I'm betting you probably don't know who that is. He's a great guy, plays keys for &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/smotheredinhugsband"&gt;Smothered In Hugs&lt;/a&gt;. And he gave it away, names were put into a basket, and some kid... Who's name was Alex I recall pulled out my name. Then proceeded to tell the whole place my phone number. Thanks some kid named Alex(I think). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah, the show as a whole was just great, we danced, took some polls, and of course I did get that chair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all friday was a good day. Went to school, met some weird kid, who like smelled me :\. He was kinda funny sometimes though. Then I went to that concert, and won that chair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which brings me into today, was an equally great day. I spent most of the day with my sister, which actually rarely happens. And it's not that I don't want to spend time with her, it's just lately she's been really getting on my nerves. Very invasive, and clingy. I think I'm just getting bored with her, and we need to not spend so much time together. I mean, my sister's always been my best friend, until I started telling her things that I didn't want anyone to know, and she would follow that up by telling my mom. Ever since then my trust in her diminished. So I just stopped telling her things, and didn't hang out with her as much. I've been told this really upset her, and I know this is going to sound kind of mean, but she just needs to get more friends than me. But at the same time, hanging out with her today was really nice. We had a pretty good break in which &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;♥b   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'MS Shell Dlg';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'MS Shell Dlg';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-469882977671749026?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/469882977671749026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=469882977671749026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/469882977671749026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/469882977671749026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-from-your-lips.html' title='And from your lips...'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SU7YZdctcQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fPd0M4KGgiQ/s72-c/Picture+276.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539000704216135479.post-3371273524392555864</id><published>2008-12-19T08:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T01:37:01.811-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Castles Stand</title><content type='html'>Upon pillars of salt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah! So much tired. I think I've developed a sleeping disorder.&lt;br /&gt;I try to sleep, I really do... I just can't. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colin was over last night, I got a hair cut and he straightened his hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SUyD9tYc33I/AAAAAAAAABs/-HfbJcToFWs/s320/Don%27tYouLoveHerMadly+088.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAH. Work to do I spose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indie show later! Yayyyy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥ b&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SUyEX1AiA3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/MsrqaVjswqk/s200/Picture+266.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what a creep!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3539000704216135479-3371273524392555864?l=raspberryb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/feeds/3371273524392555864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3539000704216135479&amp;postID=3371273524392555864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3371273524392555864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3539000704216135479/posts/default/3371273524392555864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raspberryb.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-castles-stand.html' title='My Castles Stand'/><author><name>beckyannnnnnn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11733827857029139295</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/S83NJWY7q_I/AAAAAAAAAIA/dmIMp-S4rSk/S220/44d20429ea205621608cd9d09dc601e6_4323416.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t7vfSUQ7-cM/SUyD9tYc33I/AAAAAAAAABs/-HfbJcToFWs/s72-c/Don%27tYouLoveHerMadly+088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
