<?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-30574317</id><updated>2011-10-14T19:55:11.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditations in Vanity</title><subtitle type='html'>Who are you to judge the life I live? I know I'm not perfect- and I don't live to be, but before you start pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean - Bob Marley</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-87636557848499216</id><published>2007-04-23T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T10:15:16.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Detox</title><content type='html'>Day one of the detox, up at nine, figured out how to use my new juicer, and am now working on downing my lemon water. I keep telling myself it’s like drinking tea. Ask me if I really believe it? As soon as I get this down I have to wait thirty or so minutes before eating my daily fruit dose, which today will be an apple, then an hour after that I’ll have oatmeal [which I cannot drown in sugar or milk, yikes], and around noon I’ll have 1-3 cups of raw veggies [because steamed makes me gag a lil bit]. For dinner I’m broiling chicken breast and having another 1-3 cups of veggies.  I think this is something I can reasonably handle just because there isn’t that much food involved, and it’s spread out. I’m so bad about eating in the morning because I always feel sick after  I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I decided to this Spring Detox for a very different reason than that of my mother. I could care less about the supposed 14 pounds I’m going to lose, because while it would help it won’t change much. For me it’s more about getting right in my life. For the past couple months I’ve been working on cleaning out all the people who don’t matter, the people not worth my time, and the people I have just out grown. It’s not about being hurtful or vindictive. It’s about growing to the point that I am not willing to love anyone more than I respect myself. I’m not saying that I don’t have rough patches, or that this is at all easy, it’s not. Some of the things I have had to face not only made me question my literal sanity but left me feeling more than a little bit ashamed of the sort of person I was for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the feelings of being a total hypocrite well up from time to time. Here I am, telling my kid sister and anyone else who vents their problems to me, how they should be living. I am giving them advice that at twenty-two I still find hard to follow, trying to explain the difference between thoughtless actions and loveless actions that I, myself, didn’t understand until a few weeks ago. I was working myself into a tizzy trying to fix them, to keep them from the places that I went when I was that age. I was making myself sick, keeping myself up at night and playing Mommy when I didn’t have to. It was just one more way to shift focus from myself to someone else so I didn’t have to deal with me- because, like the rest of you have at one time or another, I get sick of being with me too. I’m very hard to get along with, and I never seem to want to do what the rest of me does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this detox is a good thing. My life was getting too murky to muddle through anymore. I have finally accepted that at least for the next year this place is home. I had had my heart set on going to Ashland in the fall, but all that was hinging upon surgery, which insurance and money being what it is, it’s going to take longer than that to get it done.... and I know it might sound silly, but I don’t want to go back to school looking and feeling the way I do. I want Southern to be a part of my new life, not lumped with the old one. All of that leads into the fact that... did any of you know that I still haven’t even unpacked my room yet? I was being stubborn. However, if we’re going to be here for at least another year I might as well bite the bullet and try to turn it into a home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other exciting news, if everything goes according to plan, the Momster and I are going to look at cars next weekend. We’ll camp out at Charity’s and hit a couple of used car places. I am excited. Our little Corsica has served us well but it is time to send her back to the big car lot in the sky. She’s tired and frankly being in her after dark freaks me the fuck out. Like last night when we were driving back from an unexpected trip to Klamath and it was snow-raining, and one of our headlights went out. That was super-happy-fun-times. I just closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was fun though. We spent most of Saturday watching TV, and sleeping, I think Mom is getting a Spring Flu or something. Then yesterday we decided we would go out for our “last meal”, I wanted Mexican and the place in Lakeview is nice. So we get there about noon and the place is pack so we were just going to go to the Dinner Bell, but it was closed. So as we‘re trying to figure out where it is we want to eat, I suggest going and kidnapping the Auntie Sue and going to Klamath. Really I just didn’t want to go back home yet. It was like once I was out of the house I was not about to turn around after just an hour. Besides every time we go, I get to get Starbucks, and hit up Boarders and Payless Shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We couldn’t get ahold of Auntie Sue, and we didn’t go to Boarders, but I did get two new pairs of shoes - &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v28/prettybaby/053855_thumbsq.gif"&gt;[Click]&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v28/prettybaby/053871_beauty.gif"&gt;[Click]&lt;/a&gt;. They’re so cute and I love them. I am developing an addiction to shoes. I was laughing with Mom yesterday about the fact I buy shoes like I have some place to wear them. I have become one of those girls who packs four pairs of shoes for a two day trip. I think it might be a sickness, but I kind of like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this has gone on for a page in Word so I should end it and go get my apple. Yum.&lt;br /&gt;Extra luvs because I luvs you extra&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-87636557848499216?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/87636557848499216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=87636557848499216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/87636557848499216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/87636557848499216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/04/spring-detox.html' title='Spring Detox'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-5148858652284819161</id><published>2007-04-07T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T10:57:49.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work in progress Draft oo1.</title><content type='html'>That restless feeling is settling in my limbs&lt;br /&gt;I’m finding it hard to breathe again&lt;br /&gt;Watching and waiting&lt;br /&gt;Anticipation runs through my veins&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how to be&lt;br /&gt;Don’t know who it is you see-&lt;br /&gt;when you’re staring straight back at me&lt;br /&gt;Feeling saturates the air&lt;br /&gt;Want and fear swirling in the atmosphere&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;It hurts&lt;br /&gt;I bleed&lt;br /&gt;it works.&lt;br /&gt;We’re supposed to be better than this-&lt;br /&gt;Somehow&lt;br /&gt;Supposed to live better than this&lt;br /&gt;Know better than this now&lt;br /&gt;Loving you,&lt;br /&gt;It comes out all wrong&lt;br /&gt;Battered me down-&lt;br /&gt;Till the feeling was gone&lt;br /&gt;Anger, fury pain,&lt;br /&gt;Rage turns to apathy&lt;br /&gt;As emotions drain&lt;br /&gt;Restless lingers&lt;br /&gt;Consumes&lt;br /&gt;Triggers&lt;br /&gt;Memories dance&lt;br /&gt;Guilty Conscience screaming&lt;br /&gt;Once last chance&lt;br /&gt;I doubt&lt;br /&gt;I drown&lt;br /&gt;I’ve given it all up-&lt;br /&gt;Once again,&lt;br /&gt;Somehow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-5148858652284819161?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/5148858652284819161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=5148858652284819161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/5148858652284819161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/5148858652284819161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/04/work-in-progress-draft-oo1.html' title='Work in progress Draft oo1.'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-5430051368270922977</id><published>2007-03-16T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T03:16:57.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry Day Musings</title><content type='html'>There are days that it really irritates me that I gave up smoking. Today is one of those days, though I don’t really know why. It’s not like anything is really wrong, or even changed that much since I packed up my life last July. I get up, I turn on my stereo, fix a cup of coffee and go about my daily duties as the resident maid. Today’s task was laundry. That’s always interesting, mostly because there is nothing like seeing a pair of the elephant butt jeans flapping in the sunshine to make you feel chipper dipper happy sappy dappy about yourself. This is of course on the tails of the worst swimsuit buying season EVER. I swear, it’s like the cosmos are conspiring to make an already humiliating task ten times as hard as it has to be. This year, besides size problems working against me, I also have a time limit, and distance malfunctions  blocking the way, also, has anyone else noticed that... every swimsuit this season has a skirt and looks like something my Grandmother [bless her heart and rest her soul] would have worn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean maybe I’m just testy about trying to look my actual age rather than a school teacher since someone asked my mother if I was her sister. I know that my mother does not look like she’s pushing 55, but she also does not look like she’s is anywhere near 22 either. I love her, with my whole heart, she is the reason I am living and breathing, but I cannot think of a single 22 year old daughter who wants someone thinking their 53 year old mother is their sister. No one wants that, also, I don’t know many 22 year olds that want their signature “look” to remind people of school teachers, unless they happen to be, you know, a school teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it all off, Fred the Fat Roll [which is named such because I needed something to yell at while trying on pants one day] is adding to all this drama because he refuses to cooperate with the suit styles I like. I mean When I wear it I’m going to be around either my cute skinny friends with metabolisms like meth heads, or lounging by the pool while on vacation with my mother, her best friend, and two preteen boys [I will kill myself by the way the first time anyone asks if Con or Forester are mine]. I want to look as cute as humanly possible if I’m not going to get to be with my peers partying hardy and killing brain cells left and right, and it will be absolutely impossible to look cute in aforementioned Granny suits- with billowy ruffles and skirts that somehow make my thighs look bigger. Explain that one to me Style Divas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today I was bemoaning and huffing about all of this [the latest reject-o suit came last night priority mail] as I was hanging out the laundry [there is nothing quite like a freshly sun dried towel to make you think Spring is around the corner]. As I was standing there, with my elephant butt [which my mother later laughingly informed me was too flat to REALLY be called elephant butt] jeans, when it hit me how nice it would be if we had lifestyle washing machines. A big people sized machine you could just slip into anytime you started feeling the stains of life setting in on you. It would wash, dry, fluff, and fold you back into your true self when you lost sight of it. The only alteration needed to the cycle would be the discontinuance of sorting by color, as we should let our shared stains bleed together. It would also always be set on delicate, just because life is rough enough without going into overdrive on the spin cycle. And after all of that you’d come out fresh and pinky clean with a new outlook on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people argue getting your hair done and blowing money on a pair of shoes you don’t need can do the same thing for you. Generally I would agree but paying for school out of pocket has somehow managed to leave me afflicted with a terrible case of buyers remorse, laced with a side of practicality. Somehow buying a pair of sixty dollar pumps I will never really actually wear because they kill my feet, legs, and back just isn’t as satisfying as it used to be. If I had the Lifestyle washer I bet that would be one of the first stains it lifted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-5430051368270922977?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/5430051368270922977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=5430051368270922977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/5430051368270922977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/5430051368270922977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/03/laundry-day-musings.html' title='Laundry Day Musings'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-7356114323100674329</id><published>2007-03-15T02:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T02:39:30.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditations</title><content type='html'>In the last few days it has occurred to me that.. for the first time in a very long time I am not in love, or like, or longing. I am completely unattached without eyes or feelings or thought of anyone. It's a strange thing you know, to not be in love having jumped from bad relationship to bad relationship over the last several years. I mean I really can't think of a time since I was thirteen that I haven't been involved some how with someone, sometimes multiple "someones". Prior to all of that there was Ben. God I loved that boy, from the time I was in first grade until my eighth grade year, I was completely tore up over him. I thought someday we'd grow up and get married, we used to talk about me touring Europe after graduation, and meeting him on his mission. It never dawned on me that there would be inherent problems with the difference of faith, when I looked at Ben I saw everything I ever thought I wanted in a boy... of course then we got to High School and I found out was a low down dirty double crossing dog he was. That was a part blow, because up to that point he had been boy perfection. Of course, the feeling generally wasn't returned. I was his friend, we walked to our Mothers' classrooms everyday after school, shared a coke, talked, but he never saw anymore than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I miss the things I used to believe about him. I miss thinking that someone was true and honest. I miss believing in the untouched sort of love. I think he's married now, probably has three kids. It was the same story with Jared, only, you know, Jared was an ass from the get go. Through the grapevine I've heard was a douche he actually is to his wife. That's one of those... thank God for unanswered prayers. There is no way I would rather be in a dead end marriage right now than where I am. Actually, that's what I tell myself when I feel these walls closing in. That is my manta, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I could be married with screaming rugrats.&lt;/span&gt; I know that I am maternal by nature, but I've said it before and I'll say it again, there is too much damn crazy in my family to ever bring a child into that. Also, given the men that are attracted to me, it would be a whole other level of loser crazy to deal with. I have no desire to repeat my mother's mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, like I was saying, this is the first time really, in at least six years, that I haven't been emotionally connected to someone in that sense. I mean there isn't even that non-relationship element to deal with anymore. It's finally all out of my system, because I finally care more about my mental well being than his corny ass lies and lines. No he in particular of course, just in general, of all the he's and she's I've known in the not so distant past. Even Jess, who I thought I could have maybe had a thing for, it was fleeting. It isn't what I want or need right now. I know that all the times before it was more about filling the void, the fear of having to face myself alone. That doesn't mean I didn't love or care about the people I was with, there are some of them I know could never have hurt me so much if I didn't love them, but it was always easier to want myself when someone else wanted me- and the more someone's the better. Of course it was easier to pull off when I was the witty talented 16 year old screwing around with boys way too old to be good for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's different now. I don't know if it's really that I'm old, or if it's just I've done so much damage to myself that I feel older than I am. For years I have thrown away the best I had on people who were not worthy, who didn't deserve one iota of the devotion I wasted on them. I am coming to grips with this more and more the more I talk to my sister and see myself in Steph [of the hidden Emo-nation]. The thing that's weird is that... I'm not bitter about it anymore. It's not like I'm sitting here thinking "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I deserve so much more than I was given&lt;/span&gt;", its more like "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wow, why would anyone throw away the best of themselves of people like that?&lt;/span&gt;" These well adjusted thoughts throw me off balance in my crazy world. I think in a sense though Montana and Pix were right. Fate brought me out here for a reason, and that reason, simply put, is because when I had everything else going on it was too loud to hear these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last four years I have been running on empty, pushing myself over one hill after another. Life shouldn't be that hard. Life shouldn't be a daily struggle. Life shouldn't be about suffering, or sinning, or lowering myself to be "worthy". It's sick in a way, how much easier it is to just be sick. Why is that? Why do we let ourselves believe the devil we know has to be better than the one we don't? Why is misery the easy choice in this equation? For so long I've let the belief I had to be strong for everyone else overrule the fact I should have been being strong for myself. Why is it we want to hold everyone else up? How is it we come to believe fighting their demons is somehow more important than fighting out own? I can think of a very small, tried and true group of people that deserve that from me, but I was giving it away to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer comes to me in small ways, in little ideas as I wash clothes or cook dinner. When I'm laying in bed or reading a book. The truest thing I know, without a doubt, is that I have spent the majority of my life waiting for someone else to do what is best for me. I have waited for someone to love me enough to put what they want aside. I have scarified myself time and time again, thinking eventually someone would stop me, would love me enough to say "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No, not this time&lt;/span&gt;".  Which, really, when you think about it is completely stupid. I don't know where it comes from, sometimes I think it was something that was just born in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that more and more when I look at my little sister. We were raised completely differently, in different parts of the world, sometimes it felt in completely different times.. and yet there is this thing that we share, that runs so deep in us I can't remember a time it wasn't there. I wonder sometimes if Dad ever sits back and really sees who we are, the lives we live and the part he did or didn't play in that. Then I realize I am giving him too much credit. He can't think like that, it goes against his hazy nature. If he were to think about it would mean admitting something was amiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Oblivion is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; harder to give up than self destruction&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/30574317-7356114323100674329?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/7356114323100674329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=7356114323100674329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/7356114323100674329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/7356114323100674329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/03/meditations.html' title='Meditations'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-2290214172348094338</id><published>2007-03-13T02:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T02:04:36.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy [A (crappy) Poem]</title><content type='html'>Complicated, twisted,  intense&lt;br /&gt;Crazy love&lt;br /&gt;Crazy hate&lt;br /&gt;Crazy together&lt;br /&gt;Crazy apart&lt;br /&gt;Constant Crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Built my life on crazy&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Pain&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Tears&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Laughter&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Fears&lt;br /&gt;Constant Crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Willing, waiting, anticipating&lt;br /&gt;Crazy doubt&lt;br /&gt;Crazy fights&lt;br /&gt;Crazy proof&lt;br /&gt;Crazy nights&lt;br /&gt;Constant crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clinging still to crazy&lt;br /&gt;Crazy forward&lt;br /&gt;Crazy back&lt;br /&gt;Crazy falling&lt;br /&gt;Crazy breaking&lt;br /&gt;Constant crazy done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-2290214172348094338?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/2290214172348094338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=2290214172348094338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/2290214172348094338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/2290214172348094338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/03/crazy-crappy-poem.html' title='Crazy [A (crappy) Poem]'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-8968012251274476788</id><published>2007-03-11T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T13:14:16.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moop</title><content type='html'>Random quicky update to let anyone who is reading know I am alive and kicking, sort of. Real updates will start again shorty. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-8968012251274476788?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/8968012251274476788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=8968012251274476788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/8968012251274476788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/8968012251274476788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2007/03/moop.html' title='Moop'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-116250374637366274</id><published>2006-11-02T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T13:42:26.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, yesterday Shaun totally decided to put me in my place. I might have laughed at him if I had any sense of humor at all lately. As it were I spent an hour in bed crying and another two on the phone with my sister. For everything I know that I'm doing wrong here, I know, without a doubt in my mind, that loving her is about the only thing I've gotten right. However I might be with everyone else, whatever "bad friend" vibes, whatever... "less than whinney-ness" I go through, she comes before all else, including my unhappiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was worried yesterday after some of the things Shaun said, but when I told her she laughed at me and said the sweetest thing that I have to write down to keep remembering, I know when I call you, no  matter how stupid what I'm saying is, you're genuinely going to care. I know that when I don't call, even if it's just because I'm busy, you're genuinely going to worry. I know that I can count on you, no matter what you're going through. So Shaun can suck my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say all of this like I am blaming him, like I think he did something wrong. I don't really, but no one ever likes hearing the unflattering truth of themselves when they're already on a down slope. I know that I haven't been involved lately, I haven't been asking a lot of questions or worrying about other people like I should. I have been selfish in my misery, but maybe its because I am waiting for someone besides Elle to say "That sucks, and I am so sorry this is happening to you"... you know, instead of "Remember why you're there" and "Just make the best of a bad situation".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, that I am the Queen of telling people what they need to hear rather than what they want to hear, I know that. But there is a way to tell someone and a way not to tell someone, and I always try to be as genuinely sympathetic as possible before I tell them all about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also having serious issue with everything here anyway because there is a seeming band of people who want to sabotage my mother. Now I can be mean to her, in fact, I am quite often, it comes with being a whiney bitch and depressed, but the fact that other people are hurting her pisses me the fuck off. One of her aids is really making a list of things Mom does "wrong" [meaning different than how the last teacher did them] and took it to her evaluator and God knows who else- rather than talking to my mother. Now, those of you that know her, know that she is very mild mannered and, unlike her daughter, is willing to listen to constructive criticism.  All this funky bitch would have had to do was talk to my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, I could understand being underhanded and sneaky about it, if my mom had stolen the last teachers job [because the last teacher and the funky bitch were friends], but Mom didn't. The last teacher RETIRED, she didn't want to BE THERE anymore. There is no reason to be a complete and total cunt about this shit, and it really makes me angry. She was so happy about being here, she loved her job and loved her kids and just felt so good.... and now... she told me last night that she just doesn't even want to be here anymore. I hate that. Me making her regret her decision a little bit was one thing, but someone just snatching all the joy she felt about doing this one little thing for herself, that is wrong. Actually, what I did was wrong too, but I've worked very hard since coming back from Idaho to make her know that my unhappiness has very little to do with her and everything to do with the fact that I don't really have anything to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate people. They're so fucking petty and small minded and hurtful. Before, I made up reasons in my head to not like them, now I'm finding out I was right all along and that makes me sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-116250374637366274?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/116250374637366274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=116250374637366274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/116250374637366274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/116250374637366274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-yesterday-shaun-totally-decided-to.html' title=''/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-116227650942199448</id><published>2006-10-30T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T22:46:33.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At long last, an Update.</title><content type='html'>Soooooo..... It's been awhile since my last entry. How sad. For awhile I was updating every few days, then the move happened, then dial up happened, and somewhere in there complete and total depression came. A lot has happened, but most of it bad. I don't always like sharing the bad things. Actually, I kind of like locking them down and pretending they're not there. Silly me I know. It is not a healthy thing to do in the least little bit. However, it is something that I do seem to do quite often. I only write when I feel like I am coherent enough to do my thoughts justice. Lately I have not been coherent enough to do a slurpee justice. How sad is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, needless to say this has been a "down cycle". The move has made my mother deliriously happy and left me nearly catatonic some days. I have written a very large chunk of people out of my life forever on the general principle they are lying fuckheads, but at the same time I have half welcomed one former person back into my life without question. This has been hard given my previous relationship to this person. He is still a bastard but I can't bring myself to hate him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems to be adding another layer of confusion to my poor mind. It is very sad. I mean... the way it is, the way it makes me be... its all rather depressing really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It probably doesn't help that I am lonely for home but know going only makes me sick and sad all over again. I had gotten to the place where I was pretty ok, I was at least getting up everyday and trying to do new things. I was honestly giving it the old college try. Then we went home and for the last week I haven't wanted to move out of bed period, let alone before like noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided the best cure for what has been bugging me is insane amounts of Tori, a nice long bubble bath, and bursting into tears at least three times a day. Also, for this endeavor I will need a large bottle of vodka. Very Large. Maybe two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really... though if someone has extra Vodka lying around... I will be your bestest friend if you share [because Peasy got shit faced last night and I didn't even get to be around for the fun part. The Biotch.].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now that you're all caught up on the general misery...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a bust. My alarm didn't even go off [though really, why do I even set that thing anymore? I either ignore it or hurl things at it from across the room. I have deadly aim. I could be.... a Ninja... you know, a really fat/slow one]. I set it with the intention I would get up and clean the living room since I randomly took off this weekend and spent the night at Teh Auntie's. I was all gung-ho for like the first twenty minutes, until I realized the only person whose laundry I was folding was my mother's, and the person whose garbage I was throwing away also = Teh Momsters. Now, I realize that I have no life, and I have to earn my keep, and all of that really great bullshit, but I don't remember "Being my Mother's House Bitch" being part of the agreement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I got unmotivated and dumped her clothes on her bed for her to fold before I started slicing and dicing for my nummy stew. Now, I like to think while I am not a world class chef, I am not a fucktard either. I really believed that until I almost sliced my finger off peeling a potato. I don't know what the fuck my issue was today but I've had like no hand/eye cooperation going [and yes I know the accepted term is coordination].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I laid on my floor and listened to this bizarre mix of like Blue October, Seether, Imogen Heap, Tori Amos, Ani Difranco, Joni Mitchell, Velvet Revolver, Godsmack, and then [this part makes me giggle] Big and Rich and Bill Withers. Some Alicia Keys snuck in but I had to throw it out because it just didn't fit my mood. I know Jodi says the reason I'm depressed is because I listen to depressed music, but really, lets face it, I've been depressed for a hell of a lot longer than all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was actually thinking that today. I don't really, truly, believe that I am any unhappier than I have been. I really don't. I believe that for the first time in three years I don't have something else to blame it on. I don't have school to worry about or my friends to fret over. I am not in the middle of everything running around like a chicken without a head. This is the first time since my first semester I have only myself to think about and deal with. If I could make myself be productive, this would be the year to bang out my book, to polish up the stuff I've been working on since last fall. If I was dedicated and good and all that shit [you know, words that I NEVER use to describe myself], then this would not be a wasted year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That statement sums it up pretty prophetically actually. I am me and that means that I will waste this year, I will stew and sulk and be petty. Maybe not quite that bad, but I do tend to spend too much time in my own head. Its like... even when I'm doing something, like shopping or cooking or cleaning, there is a part of my brain that doesn't shut down, you know? Like, its always humming, with thoughts and ideas and remembering... but the ideas it things and the things it remembers are things that most people work most of their lives to forget. Its like every little hurt, every little mistake, it still lives in that back part of my brain and before now I could ignore it. I could... be bigger and better and..... in complete and total denial about how I've been and the people I've let down under the guise that they let me down first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, in a way, I'm always talking to Erin about how people are, and how they never act like the people they could be. I've told her a dozen times that when I look at people all I see is their infinite potential, and all the time I know I'm a hypocrite [with a big butt]. I know I am not half the person I could be. I know that I talk about enlighten and being bigger than your emotions and all of that bullshit the Pop Psychologist try to sell with their yoga and deep meditation. I have come full circle to see that I expect so much but I give so little. I've been running this rat race and pretending I'm headed some place and that I am so fucking well adjusted despite the absentee father and guilt dodging mother and insane old bitties who dominated the way I viewed myself the first nineteen years of my life... I lost the fact that sometimes being maladjusted is better than making yourself crazy trying to be "ok".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think any of this is really a big deal. I think I feel like it's a big deal because I haven't ever had left over energy to think about it before. I mean it was always there and it influenced a lot of the things I've done in my life, but I've never had time to just sit with it and think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, I like not having time. Having time to process makes me feel all fuckin Emo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Sloppy Kisses]&lt;br /&gt;-Sara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It should be noted I do not hate all Emo, some of my best friends are so Emo it hurts. I do not, however, enjoy &lt;b&gt;feeling&lt;/B&gt; like a big fat Emo Head.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-116227650942199448?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/116227650942199448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=116227650942199448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/116227650942199448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/116227650942199448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/10/at-long-last-update.html' title='At long last, an Update.'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115436882279666018</id><published>2006-07-31T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T11:00:22.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Soundtrack of My Life Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;- - - - Your Life: The Soundtrack - - - - - - - -&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;Open your music player (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, etc).&lt;br /&gt;Put it on shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;Press play.&lt;br /&gt;For every question type the song that's on.&lt;br /&gt;When you go to a new question press the next button.&lt;br /&gt;Ready? GO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Opening Credits&lt;/b&gt;: Show Some Emotion - Joan Armatrading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Waking Up&lt;/b&gt;: Sometimes Papa Roach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Big Move&lt;/b&gt;: My Beautiful - Lennon Murphy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Falling in Love&lt;/b&gt;: You Look So Fine - Garbage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;First Kiss&lt;/b&gt;: Stand Still, Look Pretty - The Wreckers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fight scene&lt;/b&gt;: Set Me Free - Velvet Revolver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Breaking Up&lt;/b&gt;: There's Something On Your Mind - Etta James &amp; BB King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Getting back together&lt;/b&gt;: Broken - Seether&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sex Scene&lt;/b&gt;: When You Say Nothing At All - Allison Krauss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Secret Love&lt;/b&gt;: Diary - Alicia Keys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Life's okay&lt;/b&gt;: Meet Me By The Water - Rachel Yamagata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mental Breakdown&lt;/b&gt;: Siren - Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Out being crazy with friends&lt;/b&gt;: Killing Me Too - Sister Hazel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Driving&lt;/b&gt;: California - Joni Mitchell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Flashback&lt;/b&gt;: Never Enough - Papa Roach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Happy dance&lt;/b&gt;: Everytime You Say Goodbye - Allison Krauss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Regretting&lt;/b&gt;: Silent Sea - KT Tunstall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Spending a night alone&lt;/b&gt;: Hey Pretty - Poe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Death scene&lt;/b&gt;: All You Want - Dido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;End Credits&lt;/b&gt;: What If We Could - Blue October&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115436882279666018?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115436882279666018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115436882279666018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115436882279666018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115436882279666018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/queen-of-memes-soundtrack-of-my-life.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Soundtrack of My Life Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115406722261180924</id><published>2006-07-27T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T23:13:42.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Autobiography Edition</title><content type='html'>1.Where did you take your default myspace picture?&lt;br /&gt;Livingroom of our current house about a year ago. It was a Christmas Picture for Laura-Foxy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.What exactly are you wearing right now?&lt;br /&gt;Pink tanktop, black skirt, black flip flops, silver braclet, silver hoops, silver celtic toe ring, soft pink nailpolish on fingers and toes, annnnnnnnd....OH, Honey lotion from Body Works&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.What is your current problem?&lt;br /&gt;Dealing with this move, dealing with my mother durring this move, dealing with my psycho-crazy-alky-Aunt-Sue durring this move, figuring out what to do with all the strays that have adopted us, dealing with my feelings for certain boy in my life-or rather not really dealing with these feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.What makes you most happy?&lt;br /&gt;Cuddling Lulu, pretty blog layouts, talking to Corey and listening to Wazoo or Jonny Lang play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.What's the name of the song that you're listening to?&lt;br /&gt;Give Me Up Again - Jonny Lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Any celeb you would marry?&lt;br /&gt;Jonny Friggin Lang man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.Name someone with the same birthday as you?&lt;br /&gt;I know two actually, Langston Hughes and Brandon Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.Ever sang in front of a large audience?&lt;br /&gt;All through middle and high school. Choir was great fun. Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe this, but Gabi used to tell me, when I was in the middle of my Punk lite-almost-raver phase, that I looked like Kelly Osborne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Do you still watch kiddy movies or kiddie TV shows?&lt;br /&gt;Spongebob and Finding Nemo both had deep meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Do you speak any other languages?&lt;br /&gt;Does Pig Latin count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.Has anyone you've been really close with passed away?&lt;br /&gt;Several people actually, when I was a kid my cousin Mikey died in a freak boating accident, throughout my teen years there were several suicides, and then about a year and a half ago my Grandmother who practically raised me crossed over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.Do you ever watch MTV?&lt;br /&gt;I used to, but I've sort of gotten bored with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.What's something that really annoys you?&lt;br /&gt;Stupid people.... people breathing, in general, at least right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 1:&lt;br /&gt;1.Middle name:&lt;br /&gt;Jane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Nickname(s): &lt;br /&gt;Sara-Suzy-Belle, Sara Suzy, Sara Sue, Sara Belle, Belle, Bellerina Sassy-Suzy, Sare-Bear, Sara Bean, Beanie, Bumblebee, Lemon Drop, Kitten, SweetPea, Abby, Abbins, Abbystar, By-by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Current location:&lt;br /&gt;Computer chair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Eye color:&lt;br /&gt;blue-gray-green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 2:&lt;br /&gt;1.Do you get along with your parent(s)?:&lt;br /&gt;That is a trick question. How well does anyone get along with their parents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Do you have any Siblings?:&lt;br /&gt;I have three, but I am only claiming the youngest one, Katie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 3: Favorites&lt;br /&gt;1.IceCream:&lt;br /&gt;Cakebatter from ColdStone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Season:&lt;br /&gt;Mid Spring to right before summer gets miserable hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Shampoo/conditioner:&lt;br /&gt;Paul Mitchell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 4: Do You..&lt;br /&gt;1.Dance in the shower:&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't? It is impossible not to dance to Bathwater or any other No Doubt Ska brand of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Write on your hand:&lt;br /&gt;Only phone numbers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Call people back:&lt;br /&gt;....... I could lie and say yes. Generally, I don't. I know that's horrible but I have a total phone phobia. I do call Kadie, Ari, and Erin more than most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Believe in love:&lt;br /&gt;For some people. Right now, for myself, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Sleep on a certain side of the bed:&lt;br /&gt;Always with my back to the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Have any bad habits:&lt;br /&gt;I gave up smoking and drinking. I suppose the only one that's left is falling in love with cruel men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 5: Have You...&lt;br /&gt;1.Broken a bone:&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Sprained stuff:&lt;br /&gt;All the time. I am the girl that falls up stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Had physical therapy?:&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Gotten stitches:&lt;br /&gt;Yes, lotsa times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Taken painkillers:&lt;br /&gt;Ha! yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Gone SCUBA diving or snorkeling:&lt;br /&gt;Snorkeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.Been stung by a bee:&lt;br /&gt;Every summer at least once since I was like five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.Thrown up at the dentist:&lt;br /&gt;.... It wasn't my fault, he jammed that mirror down my throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.Sworn in front of your parents:&lt;br /&gt;Ah, shit. You all know I have a mouth like a Sailor. I think I said "fuck" like fifteen times today in conversation with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Had detention:&lt;br /&gt;I was a pretty good kid. I think I had to stay in once or twice because my work wasn't done but my Mom was friends with all my teachers so I couldn't act up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Been sent to the principal's office:&lt;br /&gt;Lotsa times. I talked a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chaper 6: Who/What was the last&lt;br /&gt;1.Movie you watched:&lt;br /&gt;Crash or The Human Stain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Person to text you:&lt;br /&gt;Bryan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Person to call you:&lt;br /&gt;Auntie Carol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Person who hugged you:&lt;br /&gt;Jodie Lynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Person you tackled:&lt;br /&gt;Travis? Maybe James&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Person you kissed:&lt;br /&gt;Shit... I don't even remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.Thing you touched:&lt;br /&gt;Keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.Thing you ate:&lt;br /&gt;Bagle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.Thing you drank:&lt;br /&gt;VitaminWater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Thing you said:&lt;br /&gt;"yea sure, gimme a sec, Jebus" one guess who I was talking to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Friends you consider really close to you:&lt;br /&gt;They're all close in their own way. Right now Nate probably knows me the best, but Kadie and Erin and Ari are all close to me in different ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115406722261180924?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115406722261180924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115406722261180924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115406722261180924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115406722261180924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/queen-of-memes-autobiography-edition.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Autobiography Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115389690032013076</id><published>2006-07-25T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T22:35:37.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil Girl Thoughts</title><content type='html'>It's crazy how the past comes back to us. Out of nowhere people you never thought you would hear about again, people that haven't been in your life for years, can just... show up. I've had one of those encounters, sort of, just tonight. I really never thought I would hear this person's name again, ever, without groaning and hiding my face with a laugh. Who is the mystery being you might be wondering? The total love of my life from the time I was 12 until I was 15. See, when I was a kid, I used to spend summer and breaks with my Dad, and I had this whole network of friends there, one of whom happened to be a boy named Jared. Now, we never dated, we never... were anything, and he actually knew me just as I was heading into what I like to call the "Dark Ages" that lasted from about the time I was 13 until tonight. No, really, the crazy shit with self-mutilation and all that stopped when I was eighteen or nineteen, but you know what I mean. I was like way... off my rocker for awhile there- and still lose my grip sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I met Jared the first summer I stayed with my Dad, and I fell completely in love with him. I couldn't even tell you what it was, I mean it went so... over my head at the time. I couldn't get how I could just want to lay there (meaning the front yard under this giant pine tree) and just look at him. He was tall and lanky with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was a runner and played soccer... and absolutely amazing in everyway- or so I thought for about four years of my life. Anyway, first he dated my friend Tammy, but she broke up with him after like a month. I was there for him, of course. I was the person he came to when she did it, I was the one he expected to talk sense into her even though I had already completely fallen for her. The summer passed without much more incident. I went home and around Christmas when I was getting ready to go back, he started dating my other best friend, who really was my best friend, who I loved to pieces. I was devastated. I put on a happy face of course, I forced myself to agree that she hadn't broken any code by dating him. If I had been there year round, if I had had a shot with him, then she would have (this reasoning didn't hold up when she started dating Shaun two summers later. That was just fucked up). Anyway, they're together for over a year, it was the summer right after the whole Jason fiasco, I was pretty much a wreck. I go back, they've broken up and she's dating someone else- it should be noted that for that year they were together I stood by both of them even when it killed me), and I'm thinking now would be the poifect time to make a move on Jared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That really didn't go over well. I was out of my mind over everything that had happened with Jason. We spent all the time together in the world, but I was just crazy. I was starving myself and then binging. I had my body fucked up, and my mind was in shoddy shape too. The last time I saw him was the last Fourth I spent with my Dad. We basically told one another to take a flying leap. I went home and went down a very dangerous path that I don't feel the need to rehash. I wouldn't say I forgot about him, I still had pictures of him up in my Dorm room tow years ago. I thought about him sometimes but... I just... it was more in the sense of beating myself up over it you know? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had all but put him out of my mind when today i found the Journal he had given me. I don't think any gift ever meant so much- including the engagement ring I would get later, I don't think anything ever meant so much until Shaun bought me my Marilyn Monroe bag. It was something that... just touched me because when he saw it he thought of me. Anyway, in it are all of these poems and just dumb shit, but it got me to thinking about him. This in and of itself is not important. The thing that is important is that he's moved back to the old block, he's living a few houses down from my Dad now, and the other night he was talking to my little sister about me, asking how I'd been and all of that. It's weird you know, because my resounding thought is when I go back, I want to rub his face in everything I am. After surgery, when I lose the weight, when I am beautiful and can feel secure in my own skin... I want to show off what he could have had- compared to the wife and two kids he has now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that might make me a bad person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I don't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115389690032013076?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115389690032013076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115389690032013076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115389690032013076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115389690032013076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/evil-girl-thoughts.html' title='Evil Girl Thoughts'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115355871776081014</id><published>2006-07-22T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T01:58:37.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch</title><content type='html'>There is something going on with me right now. I don't know what the problem is, I don't know what my issue is, but I know that it is growing out of control. At the moment I feel small and scared... I am back to the point that it's a physical pain. Thinking.... hurts. Thinking about anything hurts, but most of all thinking about myself hurts. We all know I go through phases, periods of time where I am seemingly alright, that the demons that paluge me stay still for a little while. I don't know just what has stirred them up at the moment. I know its a combination of things, the move, missing people, thinking about my life without people once this move happens, thinking about getting even further away from that little girl who used to smile so sweetly in her tutu and cardboard crown....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Om the flip side, I have... been confronted with myself this week. Or perhaps I should say, I have been confronted with my lack of self this past week. It has hit me like a wave that I don't know myself anymore. I don't... connect with this person I am currently being. The things I do and say are not... me. Well, of course they are, but they're not. I have come to this point where I am very aware I wake up angry every single day. I wake up hating the sun, just because its shinning. I wake up hating everyone who could possibly face eight AM with a smile. This is not the pssive argressive hate of former weeks, months, and years. This is a genuine, loath the fact they are breathing sort of hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost walked in front of a car the other day- not because I want to die, or I am temping fate. I was honestly so caught up in my own brain, in my own thought process... I didn't hear it coming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny you know, I was thinking about the wedding. I was thinking about the wedding and it's funny because I didn't think that much about it when I thought I was getting married. I keep thinking... it wasn't supposed to be this way, my life, this person that I am... there was another plan. I've been going down this road so long, thinking I knew, thinking I had it all under control, thinking I knew exactly where the fuck I was going... but I didn't. I never have. It was all so pointless, the last two years... it seems like such a waste..... and the resounding thought that breaks my heart is that if I knew myself a little better then it might not have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is really the worst thing we do to ourselves, denying who we are because we're scared. I don't know when, but I've slowly pulled completely into myself. I think the only people I'm really being honest with at the moment are Nate and Patti (because it's quite useless to lie to them. They seem to know when I'm holding back). The reason for this change, other than that everyone is quite busy with their own lives, is that... since the whole thing with D. I've HAD to pull into myself. I never knew how it was going to be with him. I never knew when what I would say would piss him off or make him pull away because he couldn't deal. I never knew when I could really count on him... and that is the moment that it hits me, the moment I have that thought, that I never really knew when I could count on him. The answer has been so simple all the time. The answer simply is... I never could. Even Jay would give some warning. I mean things weren't always great with us I can totally admit that, she and I both have vile tempers when we want to, but we never just out of the blue turned on eachother. It was something that built slowly over time, it was something we both could probably see a mile a way and just never knew how to stop. But she never once treated me like I was shit on her shoe when I was being emotionally honest and trying to work through something. I think maybe thats why I miss her so much right now. I know she's busy and her life is crazy, but she is probably the only person in the world who doesn't bat an eye when I am a complete cunt to her. Actually, I think she likes my mean streak. It removes me just a little bit further from Wounded-Emo-Sara-Cares-A-Lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, out and out rejection isn't something one can come through without a few more battle scars. While I've had my fair share, I thought I had taken extra messures to ensure it wasn't something that could just happen like it did with D... but the kid ripped my heart out, twice actually, and shat in the hole... they were always such stupid fights, centered mainly around him not hearing what I really had to say....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help feeling today was a bit of a bust. Yes, I got to go to Lunch with my Darling little sister, and managed to spent twenty dollars I really can't afford to on earrings and a couple shirts from Old Navy, but then Jodie's van, her brand new van mind you, decided that it didn't want to work anymore. SO Joe (her dish-licious boyfriend) had to come and pick us all up so Kadie didn't get to meet Katie and I still need to CALL Kadie to tell her why. If that wasn't annoying enough, when we ran my little sister back over to her Grandmother's (who is not my grandmother, but has always treated me like I was one of her own) I was coming out of the house, and trying to get back to Joe, Jodie, and Mom, while not bursting into tears because Maxine always cries when I leave, especially after short visits- anyay, I was coming out of the house and I cutting behind her car, not seeing that the overhang of her carport was much lower than the top of my pretty little head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets just say that it was a moment worthy of every dumbass home video show I've ever seen. I all but fell on my ass and was trying not to cry because Maxine and Katie are standing there freaking out, worried I've taken my head clean off, poor Mom didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and Joe didn't know if it was ok to even laugh even if I was laughing (we're really not friends so much as... Jodie is my friend and he is her boyfriend so we're in eachother's lives but only in passing). My damn head hurt so much I could hardly see, so I took a vicodin and that was stupid because I hadn't really eaten so now, I am sitting here thinking that my chicken pasta bowl from Applebee's might revist me. And. I have a pointy head now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again. I know I am in a pissy mood just because I am in a pissy mood... and it doesn't help that my head hurts and I can't sleep. MERG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115355871776081014?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115355871776081014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115355871776081014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115355871776081014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115355871776081014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/ouch.html' title='Ouch'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115346645030481207</id><published>2006-07-21T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T00:20:50.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: The Real Me Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I Would rather...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Ask someone out.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be asked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Have a sunny day.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Have a rainy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be blind.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Be deaf. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Go sky diving.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Go scuba diving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Have it be Winter all year round.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Have it be Summer all year round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Be loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Take a bath.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Take a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be born poor and die rich.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Be born rich and die poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Never have to go to school.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Never have to go to the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Never feel physical pain.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Never feel emotional pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Wear contacts.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Wear braces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be paralyzed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Be special ed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Be rich and ugly.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Be poor and hot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Have a hot mean dumb bf/gf.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Have an ugly nice smart bf/gf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Wear black and white.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Wear bright colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I am&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ]Short. 5'0 &amp; Shorter.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] 5'1 - 5'3.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] 5'4-5'6.&lt;br /&gt;[x] 5'7 - 5'9.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] 5'10 - 6'1.&lt;br /&gt;[ ]Tall. 6'2 &amp; Taller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Naturally&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Blonde.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Strawberry Blonde.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Redhead.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Auburn.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Brunette.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Dirty Blonde.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Light Brown.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Dark Brown.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Black.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Don't Remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Blue-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Brown-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Green eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Hazel Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Grey-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Silver/Grey-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Blue/Green-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Blue/Grey-Eyed.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Change Colors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I Have/Had&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Glasses&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Contacts&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Braces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Hair Length&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Short.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Medium.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Long Hair.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Bald.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I Like Listening To&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Country.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Classical.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Techno.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Oldies.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Opera.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Reggae.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Emo.&lt;br /&gt;[x] 80's.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Disco.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Metal.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Rock.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Rap/HipHop.&lt;br /&gt;[x] R&amp;B&lt;br /&gt;[x] Classic rock.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Polka&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Gospel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Brands I Like&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] American Eagle.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Hollister.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] The Buckle&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Abercrombie &amp; Fitch.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Wet Seal.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] O'Neill.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] PacSun.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Aeropostale&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Dickies.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Roxy.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Guess.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Hot Topic.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Spencers.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Tripp&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Champs.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Old Navy.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Volcom.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Forever 21&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Limited Too.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Goodwill.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] foxy lady&lt;br /&gt;[ ] 2 Cute&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Other thrift stores.&lt;br /&gt;[x] If I like it I'll wear it.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Target&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;My Confessions&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] I am really ticklish&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I've collected comic books.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I read and watch the news.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I like Disney movies!&lt;br /&gt;[x] I don't like killing bugs.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I'm a pretty good cook. &lt;br /&gt;[x] I have worn pajamas to class.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I like Martha Stewart.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Ozzy is my hero.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I like church.&lt;br /&gt;[-] I always do my homework.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I still have my pokemon cards.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I like sneezing.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I like dancing in my underwear.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I like to play video games.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I watch cartoons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115346645030481207?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115346645030481207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115346645030481207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115346645030481207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115346645030481207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/queen-of-memes-real-me-edition.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: The Real Me Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115346159138785586</id><published>2006-07-20T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T22:59:51.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate You Didn't Try</title><content type='html'>Now, before I post this, I would like to make it clear, I've been listening to Leah Andreone for a long time, and am not one of the fan girls who just picked her up because the hot chick on &lt;i&gt;So You Think You Can Dance&lt;/i&gt; danced to it the other night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That having been said, this is one of my favorite songs- and it really sort of fits the mood I've been in lately. I have a big long update with all the little stories from the past few days brewing in the back of my mind, but after helping Erin today with her homework I just really don't have any energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I will leave you with the soul twisting lyrics that are Leah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hate You Didn't Try&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;If I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I can still see me in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;If I hold my breath&lt;br /&gt;I can breathe just like you&lt;br /&gt;But for me&lt;br /&gt;It's a momentary flight &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The life you took was mine&lt;br /&gt;We can't be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;Out of sight but you haunt my mind&lt;br /&gt;I need a remedy to kill the pain&lt;br /&gt;I hate you didn't try &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You made love on an overdose&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm left to cope&lt;br /&gt;You carved I love you in my hands&lt;br /&gt;A scarlet letter drenched in your blood &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The life you took was mine&lt;br /&gt;We can't be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;Out of sight but you haunt my mind&lt;br /&gt;I need a remedy to kill the pain&lt;br /&gt;I hate you didn't try &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since you left&lt;br /&gt;I sleep in the clothes that you wore&lt;br /&gt;Forget I'm alive&lt;br /&gt;And I wait for you at the door&lt;br /&gt;So tired of blue&lt;br /&gt;But I think I see you in the clouds &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The life you took was mine&lt;br /&gt;We can't be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;Out of sight but you haunt my mind&lt;br /&gt;I need a remedy to kill the pain&lt;br /&gt;Kill the pain &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The life you took was mine&lt;br /&gt;You can't be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;Out of sight but you haunt my mind&lt;br /&gt;I need a remedy to kill the pain&lt;br /&gt;I hate you didn't try&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a listen check out Leah's &lt;a href=http://www.myspace.com/leahandreone&gt;myspace&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115346159138785586?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115346159138785586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115346159138785586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115346159138785586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115346159138785586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/hate-you-didnt-try.html' title='Hate You Didn&apos;t Try'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115328791590908027</id><published>2006-07-18T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T23:04:50.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo-Sara-Cares-A-Lot's letter to the world</title><content type='html'>I have been working on this since before finals of Spring Term. What is this, you ask? This in an airing of my frustrations type spewing letter, saying the things I never do but always think. The following things will, in no way, be remotely flattering or attractive to most parties involved, myself included. If you're easily pussy hurt or don't like listening to anyone's truth but your own I would suggest not reading any further. Yes, I'm talking about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Mother&lt;/b&gt;: I love you, because I have to. You gave me life and for that sometimes I am grateful. However, I am getting really sick of going the same rounds with the same shit over and over and over. I am tired of being make to feel "less than" simply because I don't like your drunk sister, because I expect you to give me back that money you borrow. I realize that I have always been "your life", but I am tired of feeling like I am somehow beholden to you because of the choices you have made. It is NOT my fault you married my father and got pregnant/. It is NOT my fault you can't pay your bills. You failures are not my own and it's high fucking time I stopped letting you make me feel like it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Father&lt;/b&gt;: I hate you right now, more than I have in years. I hate that I could die tomorrow and the only reason you would know would be because Katie told you. I hate that you blind yourself to everything, including who I am and the pain you've put me through. I hate that forgiving you means letting go. I hate that even when you're not in my life you're still everywhere with me. I hate that when I look in the mirror I see you. I hate that I have to face that everyday when I put on my makeup. I am confronted with the lines that are so much like yours, even doing something as simple as brushing my teeth. I hate that my body was seemingly molded in your form and my laugh from your throat. It is because I hate you I hate myself, and I hate you more for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Eldest Sister&lt;/b&gt;: Where have you been? Was I really so disposable at four? We share the same blood, the same history, yet I feel no connection to you. You daughters look like me, smile my smile, laugh my laugh; all that first belonged to our father....yet, they could be strangers on the street and I wouldn't know them from Eve. I would know you no better. There is a bitterness to the moments we share, tinged with synthetic love and forced kindness. You abandoned me so now I abandon you. The childhood illusion of you is no more, and the very idea of you is tainted for me now. Is it your fault for not being perfect, or mine for believing in all the times you promised you were?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the One in the Middle&lt;/b&gt;: Who are you? No, really, who the fuck are you? While my youthful heart belonged to the Elder, I have no fond memory of you. I have no tangible proof other than the Elder to tell me we were once part of the same whole... and yet for you I might grieve most of all, for all that could have been. We share the same hurts, the same tears, the same belief we do not belong to or with the man that supposedly sired us... perhaps it is not you for whom I ach, but the idea of what wisdom you might have given me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Young Blood&lt;/b&gt;: We have come full circle little one. You know the lines to read between, can sense the words I've not said, and hear the silent scream. You know the signs of drowning and of the ship going down, but you stay anyway. We'll cling to each other till the bitter end despite desperate times and childish pranks. There is such potential beauty in your soul, when you let of this self respect battle, you will have won the war. When you stop cheapening the body and polluting the mind, you'll be left with all your brilliance. I wish you'd let it shine. I worry for the life you're leading now, the parties and the drinking. I know it will only drag you down. I wait for you to see you the way I do. I know this battle is hard fought and long, but I'm right here waiting, just trying to help push you along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Carol Ann&lt;/b&gt;: I have lived my whole life running to you. I have hidden in your skirt tails since I was knee high to a bugs ear. After Mikey's death you were my life line, I was just a little girl but I remember feeling like I could never reach anyone but you. Now I'm much older, and little has changed, only I see you through different eyes, less selfish eyes. It is because I am like you that I do and say the things I do. It is because I have your temper and your sense of injustice I punish everyone, including myself. I look to you now for guidance, a path for which I could follow- at least for a little while. You worry when I become silent, but the only thing I can say would make you worry more. When I distance myself, it is not because inherently I want to hurt either one of us, but rather I simply couldn't stand subjecting you to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Drunkard&lt;/b&gt;: All my life, from the time I was tiny to the first night you called and made me cry, you were this model of propriety. The Good Catholic Woman whom thought I was too over the top. You sit in judgment of me now, but in all your life have I ever told you what insufferable monsters my cousins were? Did I ever run and tattle when Rocky would beat the shit out of me? Did I ever show the bruises left after a day of "play"? Do I remind you of the emotional scars you inflicted on me those nights you ignored my panicked screams, calling me a spoiled brat? It has become very clear to me that I do not love who you are, I don't even really like you right now. With this comes shame, because Family is supposed to be of the utmost importance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the D-Child&lt;/b&gt;: I believed in you. I comforted you, I created with you, and in a sense I loved you best of all. Unabashed and unashamed to show my battle scars I let you see the dark side of me, the side I hide from everyone else. You bore witness to an honest fury born of insecurity and a need to be heard- no matter the cost. I made mistakes, I relied too heavily on you, but in the end, I gave as good as I got. You were not always easy, with a brutal temperament and hateful tongue, spiteful in your trusting and often fickle with affection and affiliation. You work so hard to be new age, to be "whole", you never hear how you talk to people. There is plenty of fault to pass around, and yet I know I shoulder this burden because I am the one hurting for it now. There is something painfully wrong knowing if I were to die tomorrow, not only would you not know... you wouldn't care. I live now in fear that at any time simply being honest, simply being who I am... will somehow force every person I love from my life and that is the deepest wound of all, the root of the root, and the truth of my truth. You won't like it, it isn't very pretty, but in trying to forget it I've denied a part of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the One Who Stands Beside&lt;/b&gt;: You have become my safe haven, my port in the storm, the light at the end of the tunnel- which is not an oncoming train... and still... I hold back. I tell the story, I use the words, but I blur the meaning. When I feel I am teetering on the edge I pull back, when you leave me with silence, though its not your intent, I hear "I don't love you anymore", "I can't deal with you anymore". This is not your fault, or any flaw found within you... this is a fear of my own making, a prison of my deign. I never tell you what you mean, or how truly amazing you are in my eyes because the last thing in the world I want to be is needy, or clingy. True, we are only friends, but we are kindred souls on the mend, and you deserve so much more than I could ever be, even as a friend and confidant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To My Petite Jolie&lt;/b&gt;: We have weathered many storms, battled many demons, and loved each other unconditionally. I see your beauty, and allow you to see my weakness. I have put as much faith in you as I ever have anyone, and though you've never let me down I hold a piece of myself from you. I bottle it, the hate and ugliness, the angst and lies I tell myself every single day, until the moment it spills over and I have no other option but to burst forth in a sea of screaming tears.... and yet there you stand. Even when I am sure you're going to give up and walk out on me because I will never be "better", never really "heal", you stand there with open arms and tell me you will never give up on me. I wish I could be more for you, I wish I could be the sort of friend you really deserve, I wish I could be as good for you as you are for me. I wish... a lot of things... but I am also forever grateful that you don't think I need to be more than I am when I am at my best. I am grateful that you love me, that you laugh with me, that you reassure me when I panic and ask you how on Earth you could love me. I am grateful that somehow you found your way to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To the Googlie&lt;/b&gt;: We have had our ups and our downs, our bitch fights and screaming matches. We have been ugly and hateful, and then turned around and been beautiful. Our relationship is a constant roller coaster, but the thing I remember more than that is that... you like me, just as I am. You love my flaws because they make me human, even when they make you crazy. I don't know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you, to be worthy of that kindness, but I will be forever grateful that you bestowed upon me the title of "friend". If it all went kaput tomorrow I know I could look back on it happily, which is quite progressive if you really think about it, since we're both so fond of calling each other names when we're mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've gotten all the venom out for now. I think I might have just said everything I ever needed to say. If not... there's always tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115328791590908027?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115328791590908027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115328791590908027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115328791590908027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115328791590908027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/emo-sara-cares-lots-letter-to-world.html' title='Emo-Sara-Cares-A-Lot&apos;s letter to the world'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115316309473568089</id><published>2006-07-17T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T12:20:02.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cigarette Cravings</title><content type='html'>I really want an effing cigarette. I am taking a much needed break from packing and being stuck in my own damn head, to listen to KT Tunstall and some Blue October. It's a strange mix, like pickles and ice cream, but this is without a doubt the yummier of the choices. I've been up since six and I am effing miserable. My allergy to dust is going crazy, I've started cleaning out the spare bedroom which should have actually been called "The place where we through shit we don't want to deal with" It's a very astute name don't you think? Yea, I do. The last week this craving for a bender and a Lucky has been gnawing at my nerves. Of course I don't drink anymore, for various reasons that I refuse to talk about with anyone including Jodie and my mother... who don't really want to know as it makes them worry anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho. I have spent the last four hours sifting through childhood crap,. boxes of toys, my stuffed animals, old diaries, love letters I never sent, burned cd's, keepsake boxes and the like... and it's made me very said. I found the letters I'd written S. and D. They sort of pull at my heartstrings really. I mean on the page are all of these beautiful thoughts, and beautiful ideas and hopes and dreams... and when I look at them I don't know that person anymore. It's very hard for me to match that image to the one I have of myself right now, in this moment. Right now I am irritable and bitchy, which I am sure I was then too, but now... it's hard for me to see past this dire need for a cigarette and the fact that I am too broke to even go buy one. I would settle for a latte but, yea, I spent my last five bucks on garbage bags and diet coke for Mom (which was really the better thing to do because now I won't have to strangle her). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple weeks have been hard, really adjusting to the idea of this move, of getting the hell out of Dodge... only to end up in a smaller Dodge, with more cows than sheep and more sheep than people. Don't get me wrong, Plush is a pretty little town, but... I just.... even when I know its the right thing to do for myself.... it still is really hard to think about being even further away from the "world". I mean we're talking about a place that loses Cell service like twenty miles on either side of the town, never mind actually down in the little valley where we'll be living. I know this is Mom's idea of an adventure, and we've already had a couple getting there, but a part of me wants to run to the coffee house and chain myself to a chair... the closest place for a decent Latte in Plush is like an hour away- three if you want Starbucks, six if I want to have my best friend to go get it with. Thinking about it just makes me tired. I try to tell myself Kadie will come and visit, but I sort of have a feeling that really isn't an option... and now if Mom drops her master's program we won't have a reason to come back once a month.... which makes me very very very sad sad sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I see some positives to this as well. I will be closer to Aunt Suzy and while we don't always get along, when we do she's almost as much fun as Auntie Carol. It will also put me closer to Faith, Hope, and Grace, which will be nice. I mean I know that they were only so well behaved for me because I was like the new fun toy and with time that will wear off, but I really want to be a part of their lives. They're growing up so beautifully. I'll also only be a few hours... well... actually sort of like four or five, from my Cousin Charity. It's occured to me more and more that I really miss her. The two years she lived down here were such a blast, even if she and I don't always see eye to eye. I miss being able to just get in the car with her and go. Now, once we're there anyway, getting in the car and just going to see her will be nice. Jodie assures me I won't always be the scardy-cat driver I am now. I don't know if I believe her. I also get the run of the house, which might sound silly, but... I am so excited to get to decorate. The house is small, but it feels more "cozy" than small, more like home... like the home I grew up in than the place we have now does. Once we get the school thing straight, and I can stop worrying about it, then I think I will be able to get a little more excited about the move. I mean... I am sort of already excited, but not the way I could be, not the way I was when I thought about having my own little apartment and being on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In reality, I know that being there won't be as bad as getting there- like most things in life. The journey to this place is paved with broken road and a lot of dreams I'm putting on hold, but being there... being there won't be that awful. Once we get past getting the house on the market, getting all our shit packed and unpacked and put in special places, once we do all that, then I really believe I could be happy there for a year, at least until after surgery. Once we cross that hurdle, once that first fifty pounds is off... I know that these recluse like feelings I am dealing with now will dissapate, if not vanish. I know its silly to be so obsessed with weight when my whole life my stance has been beauty is about the inner strength a woman has as opposed to her outter shell....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hypocrite. I'm ok with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to share this little story, so then maybe everyone will understand why I am so stressed about this move. Not this last weekend, but the weekend before Mom and Jodes were cleaning out the rest of her stuff from her classroom here, they were just supposed to pack it up and take it to storage and then in two weeks, after payday, they were supposed to take it up to the teacherage in Plush. Well once they got the shit packed, and I mean packed, to the rafters, couldn't even use the review mirror it was packed so high, Jodie decide she doesn't want to unpack all this crap, put it in storage, just to pack it all up again in two weeks- which admittedly makes sense- so they will just drive up and back (12 hour trip) right then and there. However, instead of unpacking Mom's little Volvo and the two of them just taking the stuff in Jodie's van, they deiced to take both cars (it should be noted at this point that Mom's Volvo is as old as I am and while it might have been a super car at one time has a tendency to die when you're running off the bottom half the gastank). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the part of the story where I enter. I was... checking my email or something, maybe watching cartoons, I don't remember, anyway, they call and want to know if I want to ride with Jodie (because since it stranded us last time I refuse to set one chubby toe in that damn Volvo). As I had nothing better to do, and was really sort of bored, and roadtrips with Jodie are always amsuing, I agree to go. Getting out of town was interesting, to say the least, we spent twenty minutes in the parkinglot of what used to be Jackson's and is now Shell, trying to ge tgas and goodies, and just a bunch of shit. Then we have to stop in Vale- which seriously is like twenty minutes from where we live, so Mom can try to call Aunt Sue and get another Diet Coke (I keep telling her it doesn't matter if they're ''Diet" if you drink twelve a day). Anyway we're finally on our way the the first quarter of the trip passes without much incident. Jodie and I talk, and I get the lecture about needing to take care of myself and other things she never says in front of my mom, but I know comes from a place of loving concern for me. She also told me I need to take it easy on Mother dear because she's as stressed as I am. I take it all with a pinch of salt because Jodie has a way of saying something in a way that can be misconstrued as mean, when really she's just blunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we're about fifteen miles out of Juntera which is a little pin dot on a map that has a motel, diner, and some farm land, and we're going up this big hill- which I had never actually concidered to be a big hill before this trip. By this point Jodie has gone around Mom because she was going so slow and Jodie has trouble keeping it under 70, and was having a hard time holding it at 60. We get to the top of the hill and pull off to wait for Mom to catch up. About twenty minutes goes by, ten or fifteen cars go past, and it dawns on us Mom is probably stranded somewhere down the hill. SO we flip a bitch and head back down to see where she is and low and behold she's sitting on the side of the road, drumming her fingers on the wheel. We pull over (keep in mind we're talking about a winding hill road here, the pulls off are tiny), get out and the first thing my sweet school marm mother says is "How many ways can you say FUCK". I tired not to laugh, but, well, it was hard. So they decide we will sit and see if, after it had cooled down a litte, the car would start. I pick up my book at this point figuring we're going to call someone to tow her to Burns because it was closer than Vale or home. That would be the logical thing to do right? I mean it would make the most sense, or at the very least we swap out some shit, from the van to make room for Mom and then come back for the car after we dropped everything off at Plush....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logical things rarely happen when you're with my mother and Jodie. Sometimes I wonder if they have a functioning logical thought between them when they are together- don't get me wrong, I love this about them, but not when my ulcer is already acting up because the only thing I'd eaten was actually a bottle of Starbucks and a handful of Sunflower seeds. Anyway, this is the point where logic shuts down and Jodie decided we will just push Mom's car up the hill the rest of the way, of course it's like 90 degrees outside so physically doing this is impossible unless she wants my fat ass to die of heat stroke or a heart attack. It's this point when she turns the a/c off in her van and navigates her bumper gently in the back of Mom's and begins to nudge her up the hill. Talk about amusing. If you've never watched one semi-high-strung-slightly-foul-mouthed teacher push another up a hill using her car, I highly recommend not doing so when you're in the car with them. Watch from the side of the road, or a passing vehicle. I remember a lot of "What the FUCK is your mother doing Sara-belle?" of course my only answer was "I don't know Jodie."- Of course by this point I am choking on my laughter, trying not to cry because I am dead sure they're going to run us off the damn road with this stunt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the top of the hill, without, by some stroke of luck, not killing each other or going off the road. Mom coasts down, and for a little while things are ok. However, low an behold there are several more big hills we have to get over to get to Burns, (where I assume they will park the car, switch some stuff, and come back for it later), so we have to repeat this "Jodie pushing Mom uphill" thing several more times. I had never actually noticed how hilly that area was before this little trip. My nerves were shot by the time we finally got to Burns, we make it to the Shell station there, I have to pee so bad I'm nearly dancing from the parking lot while Mom and Jodie are standing by the pumps laughing their asses off. I try to convince them the problem is we're running on the bottom half of the tank and that it is a long ass way from Burns to Lakeview and they need to get a gas can so maybe we don't have to push Mom up anymore hills (of course they don't listen). So we get crappy McDonalds and head off again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time the part of the trip that should have taken about four hours all together is at six and a half- which is how long the whole first leg of the thing should have taken the way Jodie drives. Now, for the most part I love long car trips, looking at the landscape, reading, daydreaming, whatever, I don't mind it, and I know the thing everyone keeps saying when I say I'm moving to Oregon is "I hear it's pretty", yea, well, shut the fuck up. The coast is pretty, the part of the state we're in is High Desert and just nasty. It's not pretty. It's not green. It is dry, and hot, and uncomfortable. Its not even like Arizona with it's painted desert, its just.. scraggy trees and sagebrush. I will take pictures and show you. Anyway, for the most part from Burns to about the Christmas Valley turn off we do alright. Then we get to the rest station just a few miles up from that, Jodie has to pee so we turn off and I knew then it was a mistake and Mom should have kept going- but again no one listens to me. When we pull up there is this gentle slope that goes on for, what now anyway, seems like miles and miles and miles. Mom has to turn around and get a RUNNING START to get up this thing, and eventually Jodie ends up behind her pushing again. By this point I just close my eyes and try not to laugh or cry because I am exhausted and want to leave this piece of shit car by the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We make it to Lakeview, pull into the little gas station there, Mom checks her oil and can't even get a read on the dipstick. At this point I am just done. I get my VitaminWater, and get back in the van to read my book. I am hot and tired and ready to be home. We've been in the car by this point about eight hours. We get to Plush and Mom's car makes it without us having to push her again, we unload everything that takes about another hour and a half after we show Jodie around the house and run into one of her new student's parents- who really thought I looked young enough to still be in High School. I think it might have been the Mickey Mouse Bun pigtails I had going on, but I was just thankful they didn't think I was old enough to be her sister. That's happened before, which is really disheartening because Mom doesn't look that young. I mean she doesn't look 52, but she doesn't look young enough to be my sister either. Anyway, we unpack we leave the Volvo because there is no way we're doing that shit again in the dark, pile into the Van and head back the way we came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to about two miles outside of Burns and Jodie realizes that we need gas. Now Burns is not like Ontario, or even Payette where you have 24 hour gas stations every few miles. There is ONE freaking place open, Thank God, and then Jodie has to go inside to sign for the gas because she's used her credit card so many times. Actually she'd used it at that very place a few hours earlier when we'd stopped to get Gas the first time. Then we back peddle to this diner called the Apple Peddler, which while the food was alright, the service was shit and it wasn't worth the almost thirty bucks we ended up paying. This whole time Mom and Jodie are laughing, because since leaving Plush we've been attacked by a low flying Owl, nearly hit three million fucking Jack Rabbits, and we think a Possum- or something equally rodent-like. We leave, and Mom and Jodie joke the rest of the way home, and I try to stay awake in case we die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like after three before we got back. I seriously just fell onto the couch. I didn't even bother changing. Then the next day the alternator in the Corsica went out. SO for over a week now we've been without a car, and without money to fix the Corsica because moving is freaking expensive. We spent nearly $300 in gas alone on this little excursion.....&lt;br /&gt;And now that this entry has gone on for like five pages in Word, I am going to end it. &lt;br /&gt;-Peace, Love, and Chicken Grease&lt;br /&gt;--Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115316309473568089?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115316309473568089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115316309473568089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115316309473568089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115316309473568089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/cigarette-cravings.html' title='Cigarette Cravings'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115302921063592823</id><published>2006-07-15T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T22:53:30.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Myspace Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;1. Would you get back with your last ex if you could?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. Not because I don't still adore this person, but because there is too much bad blood in that sense for me to ever trust him again. Cheat on me once shame on you, cheat on me twice and you need to have your eye poked out... among other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. What kind of shirt are you wearing?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boatneck heather pink with a white tanktop underneath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Would you kiss anyone on your friends list?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Several of them actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Do you have a 'thing' for someone on your friends list?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not at liberty to comment on this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm..... let me count.... haha only like 17 out of 116&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. How many kids do you want to have?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is "zero" Alex. Everyone thinks I'm lying when I say this, but it's so true. I used to think I wanted kids, but I know now that I am too fucked up to ever pass that on to another living human being. Talk about Cruel and Unusual punishment, sheesh. I have crazy on both sides of my family, and with my taste in relationships that'd be like having crazy coming from the poor kid on all sides. So not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. Do you have a good relationship with both of your parents?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It waxes and wanes with my Dad. When I am in a forgiving mood I love him and know he did the best he could for being a fucktard male, when I am angry and bitter and in the mood to hate someone, I just think he's a fucktard who loved my sisters more. My mother and I go the rounds, but at the core of it, she's always been there, always loved me, especially when I couldn't love myself. So I guess that means that we have a good relationship, I mean its something we have to work at, but its something that is worth working at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;8. What name would you want besides the one you have?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nola, I have no idea why, except that right now I love that name. Actually, my mother wanted to name me Katherine Theresa, and I really like that name- but Dad stuck his foot down so I am just simply Sara- though I really think it fits. I can't see me being anything or anyone else (though when I was little I used to think if I'd been an Alexis I would have been thin and popular.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10. What did you do for your last birthday?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so this will sound really lame, especially since it was my 21st, but I had dinner with Mom and Jodie and then ran to Wal*Mart to buy Breakfast At Tiffany's- which they didn't have, which made me SAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11. What's your main ringtone on your phone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ring ring kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;13. What were you doing two nights ago?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm I think I was talking to Nate, or maybe I was on the phone with Bryan? I can't remember. I was probably bitching about packing though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;14. Do you like having your hair pulled?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It depends on the context in which it is happening. Generally, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;15. Name something you can't wait to do:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this move over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;16. Last time you saw your mom?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five seconds ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;17. What is one thing you wish you could change about yourself?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one thing? I would swap my body for Lonneke Engal's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;18. If you had $250,000, what would you do with it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pay off Student loans and get the fuck out of the country. Woo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;19. How long have you been at your current job?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;........Starving student isn't a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;20. Have you ever talked to Tom?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;21. Describe what color socks you are wearing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not wearing socks. Socks are the devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;22. Last thing you ate?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm.... does a cup of coffee count as eating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;23. What's your favorite month?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May, because no one much likes May. And it's the only month I know for sure I can spell while intoxicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;24. Your least favorite month?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March, everything is soggy and muddy and gross. Its not Winter, but its not yet Spring, it just makes me crazy and sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;25. What's the last piece of clothing you've borrowed from anyone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, Lessee, I "borrowed" Mom's old Navy Flippity Flops, but I have no intention of giving them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;27. Most visited webpage?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm Myspace, or &lt;a href=http://www.questionablecontent.net/&gt;Questionable Content&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;28. Last person you text messaged?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bryan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;29. Last person to make you sad?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bryan? I don't know, lately people piss me off, they don't make me sad... well Kadie makes me sad, but thats because I think about leaving and being alone in the wilderness and not having a coffee buddy anymore.... I suppose I just made myself sad. Again. I'm such a hoore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;30. Would you take a bullet for your best friend?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;31. Favorite kind of drink?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.............Vodka. Though I'm really loving Berry Cream Dr. Pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;32. Favorite food?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tai or Mexican&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;33. Favorite dessert?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death By Chocolate from Romeo's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;34. Have you been to Europe?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;35. If someone you hated died, what would you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel insanely guilty... well depending on the person. There are one or two that I've been able to detach myself from, like Emmett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;36. What are your regrets?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many... lately I've been looking at life through a rearview mirror, and at every turn I find myself wanting to change what I'm seeing. However, I fully accept this is an exercise in futility. You can't change the past, and other than losing three years of really getting to be a big sister to Katie, I don't have many. I've worked really hard to accept that there are some roads you just have to travel, mine have just been bumpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;37. If you could tell someone something right now what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I felt safe and healthy, and was reasonably sure this person felt the same way, I would tell them just how much they've come to mean to me and that somehow life just doesn't make sense without them. I don't know if this means I love this person or if I am just needy and co-dependant, I don't even know if I could tell you where I wanted it to go, but somehow I feel like they don't quite understand how important they are to me, how important they've always been. I guess the short version would be "I love you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;38. One thing that made you smile today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a message from Dan, that was cool, made me feel special. Talked to the Auntie about the Wedding, oh oh! I talked to Lizzy-Bear and she reminded me she loveded me. That made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;39. Do you like swimming?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;40. Is there anyone on your top eight that you miss?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss most of them, at least the ones I know. Kirsten, Patti, Kadie, Katie, and Laura Foxy aka Sean Fuller.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115302921063592823?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115302921063592823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115302921063592823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115302921063592823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115302921063592823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/queen-of-memes-myspace-edition.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Myspace Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115247138111515464</id><published>2006-07-09T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T12:16:25.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Random Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Opposite Gender&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Guitar or Drum Player&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Guitar, accustic if at all possible. Gotta love the Folk Rock boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Skater or Surfer&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Neither? I'm more of a buddy-holly-glasses-wearing-nerd-boy sort of girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Brown or Blue Eyes&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Blonde or Brunette&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Brunette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Brains or Looks (Be honest!)&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Brians. You can be physically appealing without them, but that doesn't last. I have to be with someone I can really talk to about everything from music to film and books. The sexiest thing in the world, at least in my mind, is talking to someone who is completely dedicated to their craft and wants to share that with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Food&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11. Hamburger or Hotdog&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Hamburger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;12. Pie or Cake&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Neither&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;13. Apple or Banana&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;14. Coke or Pepsi&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;15. Chicken or Beef&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;16. Oreos or Chips Ahoy&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Oreos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;17. Pancakes or Waffles&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Pancakes from IHOP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;18. Chocolate or Vanilla&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Swirl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;19. Strawberry or Cherry&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Stawberry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;20. Watermelon or Cantaloupe&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Cantaloupe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;21. Potato salad or Macaroni Salad&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Potato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;22. Wheat or White&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;White&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;23. Tic Tacs or Candy&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Tic Tacs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;24. Sausage or Bacon&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Bacon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;25. Sour Cream and Onion or BBQ&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;BBQ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sports&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;26. Baseball or football&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Baseball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;27. Swim or Track&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Swim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;28. Tennis or Golf&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Golf (you get to drive those little carts FAST... at least thats how we play out here.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;29. Skiing or Sledding&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Sledding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;30. Bicycling or Jogging&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Neither&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Stores and Restaurants&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;31. McDonalds or Burger King&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Burger King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;32. JC Penny's or Sears&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Sears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;33. Walmart or Target&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Target&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;34. Trophy's or TGI Friday&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;TGI Friday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Clothes&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;36. Pants or Shorts&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Pants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;36. Zip-Up or Pull-Over Sweatshirt&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Zip-up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;38. Dresses or Skirts&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Both depending on mood and occasion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;39. Mittens or Gloves&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Gloves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;40. Print or Solid&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Solid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Names&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;42. Jessica or Jennifer&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Jessica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;43. Aaron or Erin&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Erin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;44. Carie or Kari&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Carie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;45. Todd or Tom&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Tom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;46. Lynn or Lee&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Lynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;47. Sarah or Susie&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Sara (no H damnit. It took me months to train my friends)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;48. Jack or John&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Jack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;49. Lisa or Linda&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Lisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;50. Mike or Nick&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Music&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;51. Punk or Rock&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Rock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;52. Pop or Alternative&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Alternative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;53. Rap or Techno&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Techno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;54. Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Christina Aguilera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;56. Korn or Staind&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Staind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;57. Limp Bizkit or Linkn' Park&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Neither DEATH TO WHITE ROCK BOYS RAPPING &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;58. Guitar or Drums&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;59. Piano or Violin&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Piano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;60. Ipod or Radio&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Ipod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Television&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;61. Dawson's Creek or 7th Heaven&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Hell to the no. Though when I was younger, 7th Heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;62. Angel or Buffy the Vampire Slayer&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I hate them both, equally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;63. Law and Order or The Practice&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Law and Order&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;64. One Tree Hill or The OC&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I hate them both equally, Mischa Barton needs to eat a fucking sammich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;65. Smallville or Charmed&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Smallville&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Cinema&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;66. Bruce Willis or Bruce Lee&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Bruce Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;67. Jennifer Love Hewitt or Neve Campbell&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;They both seriously annoy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;68. Aladdin or Lion King&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Lion King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;69. Snow White or Sleeping Beauty&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping Beauty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;70. Comedy or Drama&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Dramedy, or Dark Comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;71. Horror or Science Fiction&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Neither, they both put me to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Computer/Video Games&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;76. AOL or MSN&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;AOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;77. Dogpile or Google&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;78. Mac or PC&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Mac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;79. PS2 or N64&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;PS2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;80. Mario Brothers or Zelda&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Mario Brothers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;School&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;81. Pen or Pencil&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Pencil most of the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;82. English or History&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Both. My dual minor actually is in American Lit and History&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;83. Math or Science&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Science&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;84. Home Economics or Woodshop&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Home Ec YEY for sewing and baking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;85. Backpack or Messenger Bag&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Messenger Bag! Yey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Animals&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;86. Cat or Dog&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Dog, big dog actually like Great Danes *glee*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;87. Fish or Hamster&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Hamster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;88. Tiger or Lion&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Tiger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;89. Butterfly or Lady Bug&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;90. Seals or Otters&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Seals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I am...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x]Single&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Taken&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Happy&lt;br /&gt;[x]mixed feelings&lt;br /&gt;[x]like someone&lt;br /&gt;[x] Sad&lt;br /&gt;[x] Angry&lt;br /&gt;[x] A meat-eater&lt;br /&gt;[ ] A vegetarian&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Crying&lt;br /&gt;[x]Tired&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Age 1 - 12&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Age 13 - 19&lt;br /&gt;[x] Age 20 - 30&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Age 31 - 50&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Age 51 - 80&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Older than 80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Currently I'm...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Alone&lt;br /&gt;[ ]with another person&lt;br /&gt;[ ]with a group of people&lt;br /&gt;[x]In pajamas&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Naked&lt;br /&gt;[x]Dressed comfortably&lt;br /&gt;[ ]In my clothes from today&lt;br /&gt;[x]Listening to music (Be Your Love by Rachael Yamagata)&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Watching TV&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Watching a movie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I own...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] A laptop&lt;br /&gt;[x] A stereo&lt;br /&gt;[ ] An MP3 player/iPod&lt;br /&gt;[x] an inflatable chair&lt;br /&gt;[x] A bean bag chair&lt;br /&gt;[x]A lava lamp&lt;br /&gt;[x] A black light&lt;br /&gt;[x] An automobile (my cherry)&lt;br /&gt;[x] musical instrument&lt;br /&gt;[x]A CD player&lt;br /&gt;[x] A CD burner&lt;br /&gt;[x] A DVD burner&lt;br /&gt;[x] Over 100 CDs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I have...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Glasses&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Contacts&lt;br /&gt;[x] Pierced ear(s)&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Other piercing(s)&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Tattoo(s)&lt;br /&gt;[x] Scars from accidental injuries&lt;br /&gt;[x]Scars from other injuries&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Missing teeth&lt;br /&gt;[ ] A broken body part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I've physically met...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] A celebrity&lt;br /&gt;[x]A poor person&lt;br /&gt;[x] A rich person&lt;br /&gt;[ ] The president&lt;br /&gt;[x] Family I never knew existed&lt;br /&gt;[x] Someone from another state&lt;br /&gt;[x] Someone from another country&lt;br /&gt;[x] Someone EXACTLY like me in personality&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Someone EXACTLY like me in looks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I have been...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Legally dead&lt;br /&gt;[x] Engaged&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Married&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Divorced&lt;br /&gt;[x] in a car accident&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Arrested&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Questioned by police&lt;br /&gt;[x] In a police car (willingly)&lt;br /&gt;[ ]In a police car (forced)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I have been called...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] A liar&lt;br /&gt;[x] Crazy&lt;br /&gt;[x] gothic&lt;br /&gt;[x] Punk&lt;br /&gt;[x]Depressed/Suicidal&lt;br /&gt;[x] Preppy&lt;br /&gt;[x] Hot&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Anorexic&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Ghetto&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Jock&lt;br /&gt;[x] Slut&lt;br /&gt;[ ] skater&lt;br /&gt;[xxxxxxxxxxxxx] Bitch (I wear this title with pride)&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Stupid&lt;br /&gt;[x] Freak&lt;br /&gt;[x] Conceited&lt;br /&gt;[x] Emo &lt;br /&gt;[x] Scene&lt;br /&gt;[x] Nerd&lt;br /&gt;[ ]Retard&lt;br /&gt;[x] Something other than these&lt;br /&gt;[ ] None of the above&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Suprisingly, nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;All about me from A-Z&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A - AVAILABLE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;for Birthdays, Weddings, and Bar Mitzvahs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;B - BEST SPORT?&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;br /&gt;Vollyball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;C - Crush?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;D - DOGS NAME?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Lets see, there was Tina, Beau, and when I move up to Plush we will have Nola who will either really be called Lolo or Lala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;E - EASIEST PERSON(s) TO TALK TO?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Nate, by far right now he is the only person I feel like I can be honest with about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;F - FAVORITE COLOR?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Pink! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;G - GUMMY BEARS OR GUMMY WORMS?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Gummy Bears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;H- HOMESTATE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Iderho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I - INSTRUMENT?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;J - JUICE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Sunny D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;K- KIND OF MUSIC?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I am a folk rock girl at heart but I listen to everything- except not the Black Eyed Peas anymore because it was the only thing that would play the entire six hour drive to Plush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;L- LONGEST CAR RIDE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;FUCKING YESTERDAY! I spent about 17 hours in the car on a trip that should have taken 12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;M- MILK FLAVOR?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Chocolatey goooodness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;N- NUMBER OF SIBLINGS?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;3 half sisters only one of whom I'm claiming lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;O- ONE WISH?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;To get this freaking move over with. My god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;P Phobia/Fears?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;being stranded, things that go bump in the night, right now my greatest fear are the possible repercussions of either choice I made about this move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Q - FAVORITE QUOTE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;They censor your work when they're scared of it&lt;/i&gt; - Kathy Acker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;R- REASON TO SMILE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Milkyway Blended Lattes with Kadie, laughing at Nate, my black rimmed emo-glasses, babysittying Faith, Hope, and Grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;S - SONG YOU LAST HEARD?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Allison Krauss - Baby, Now That I've Found You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;T- TIME YOU WOKE UP TODAY&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;11ish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;U - UNKNOWN FACT ABOUT ME?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Most of my undies are of the pink or black variety&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;V - FAVORITE VEGETABLE?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Broccoli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;W - WORST HABIT?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;My inability to tell my family where they can stick their "Good Intentions"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;All over baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Y - YUMMY FRUIT?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Apples&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;z - SIGN?&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Aquarius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;FACTS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] afraid of the quiet.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I am really ticklish.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I'm afraid of the dark &lt;br /&gt;[x]I'm afraid of facing my back to open doors at night.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I believe in true love&lt;br /&gt;[x] I've run away from home.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I collect comic books.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I shut others out when I'm sad or mad&lt;br /&gt;[x] I've stayed out all night.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I open up to others easily.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I am keeping a secret from the world.&lt;br /&gt;[x] sometimes when im bored I watch the news.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I own over 5 rap CDs.&lt;br /&gt;[-] love Disney movies. (SOME Disney Movies)&lt;br /&gt;[x] I sometimes fall for pretty eyes.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I don't kill bugs.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I curse once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I curse too much&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I've slipped and fell in public&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I've slipped out a "lol" in a real conversation.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I love Spam.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I bake well.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I have worn pajamas to class&lt;br /&gt;[x] I have owned something from Abercrombie.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I have talked on a phone for 3 hours&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I love Dr. Phil&lt;br /&gt;[x] I love someone&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I love to laugh.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I drink alcohol on a regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I drink alcohol sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I killed all the braincells with alcohol I desire to&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I loved Lord of the Flies.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I have cough drops when I'm not sick.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I can't swallow pills.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I have a few scars.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I've been out of this country.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I love chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I love spaghetti&lt;br /&gt;[x] I bite my nails.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] I play computer games when I'm bored.&lt;br /&gt;[x] I cry sometimes for no reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Have you ever&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] Gotten lost in a city.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Seen a shooting star.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Had a serious injury.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Been so mad you've locked yourself in your room for the day&lt;br /&gt;[x] Gone out in public in your pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Have kissed a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Hugged a stranger&lt;br /&gt;[x] Been in a bloody fist fight with someone of the same sex.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Been in a fist fight.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been arrested.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Laughed and had some type of beverage come out of your nose.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator&lt;br /&gt;[x] Made out in an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Swore at your parents.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Kicked a guy where it hurts on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been skydiving.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been bungee jumping.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Gotten stiches&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Bitten someone.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been to Niagara Falls.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Gotten the chicken pox twice.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Crashed into a car.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been to Japan.&lt;br /&gt;[x] Ridden in a taxi.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Shoplifted&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Been fired&lt;br /&gt;[x] Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.&lt;br /&gt;[ ] Stole something from your job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115247138111515464?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115247138111515464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115247138111515464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115247138111515464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115247138111515464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/queen-of-memes-random-edition.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Random Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115230277297728209</id><published>2006-07-07T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T19:27:35.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well that was pointless.</title><content type='html'>I want a cigarette, and a remote like Adam Sandler has in Click (which, by the way, looks like they single stupidest movie he's ever done and that includes Little Nicky). I want to fast forward through this summer. I am tired of packing and gathering and going through things. You would not believe the amount of shit one can accumlate in five years of living in a place. It's blown my mind- and a lot of my shit was still packed from a year ago when I moved out of my dorm room. God that makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kadie never called me yesterday. I don't know if I should be annoyed or worried. I'm leaning towards annoyed, simply because I cleared my day up for her- but whatever. I don't care. Well I do but I don't. I think right now I am really just.... tired. I'm not sleeping right so everything seems to drag on forever. It was four before I got to bed this morning- after acting like a complete girl when talking to Nate. I really annoy myself sometimes. Like he offered to stay up and talk if I needed him to, but, being who I am, I can't &lt;i&gt;ask&lt;/i&gt; for that. I expected him to read between the lines and say "Wow, Sara, you seem really upset, talk to me"- which is so selfish and pointless. How can he know if I don't tell him- or anyone for that matter. I don't have girl tendancies often but when I do I annoy even myself. Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115230277297728209?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115230277297728209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115230277297728209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115230277297728209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115230277297728209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/well-that-was-pointless.html' title='Well that was pointless.'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115221006894621268</id><published>2006-07-06T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T14:23:46.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramble Ramble</title><content type='html'>I feel like I am dying. Good Lord. I've only really been back in the Valley about a week and already my allergies are threatening to do me in, My eyes are puffy and my nose is all sniff-a-ly. Nothing really helps to combat this so I've taken to lying in bed and bemoaning my fate. Surprisingly while we were in Plush my allergies vanished in favor of nasty heat related headaches. I don't know if you know this, but fat girls don't do well in triple digit heat. We sort of wilt. It was equally hard to feel that way while babysitting my cousin's kids. Don't get me wrong, I love the rugrats to bits, but when it's a hundred degrees outside cuddling is the last thing on my mind. I was so miserable the last two days we were there, if Johnny Depp had wanted me to snuggle him I'd have told him to go jump in the river. However, you can't say that to a four year old, they're a bit more sensitive. Which would explain why the hell I ended up taking a nap in the middle of the day with two sweaty girls and not having any fun at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say this though, the whole trip was worth it to be there for my cousin Harmony's birthday, not because I love her (though I do), but because she went to the doctor that day and he told her, my perfectly beautiful-always-better-than-me cousin that she was "just a hair shy" of obese. This might sound very vindictive of me, but I've lived in the shadow of this woman most of my life. She was beautiful, and talented, and smart, and just all of these things that even when I was a little girl I never felt like I would be. Now it should be noted that she is't really a hair shy of obese. She isn't skinny, and she probably isn't even the weight she'd like to be, but she's had three kids and is thirty-one. She's nearly six feet tall and half her weight is in her hair- but it was nice to see that even Perfect Harmony is fallible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really it was never just Harmony whose shadow I lived in, I've always felt small compared to my Aunt Sue's kids. Rocky, even when he was a kid, was sort of that brooding hot-boy and a baseball star. Charity was, while short and stumpy with slightly awkward hair, also frighteningly brilliant, she's one of those people who never had to put any effort into anything she did for it to come out flawlessly. Then there was Riley, who when we were growing up was one of my best friends. He was the little redheaded child and only a few months older so we were raised practically like brother and sister the first four years of our lives. I was the dramatic one, everything was always so big and over the top, Auntie Sue swore that I was born for Broadway. He was the slightly sullen sensitive one, but of course that couldn't last living with Rocky. He was always smart though too, he read first, got better grades, was exceedingly popular, quarterback of the football team, class president and now he's finished his AA before I have and is marrying his high school sweetheart in August. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, now that we're all adults, that things like that shouldn't bother me, I know that I had my own struggles to face and deal with and my own path to follow. I know all of that, but sometimes it's really hard to hold onto the idea that I am just as good as they are. It's quite frustrating to know that he got his AA before I finished mine simply because he started a term after I did- even though he started in the term I had to take off to take care of Mom after her hysterectomy. I just... I don't know.. I feel like they're all lovely and grownup and I'm still trying to find my way. I can't ever say, even when I was engaged, that I've seriously thought about settling down and getting married. I mean, sure Ken and I said we were getting married, and if the relationship had lasted I might have gotten past the fear of "how the hell do we manage this?", but it was never serious. We couldn't even agree on whether or not it would have just been better to elope.. or rather I wanted to elope and he wanted a big wedding with both of our families and place settings and five groomsmen. At that point in my life I didn't think I had five girls I wanted for Bridesmaids. Actually, at this point I'm not sure I do, and there was all the problem of who to invite from my family- as my Dad's side is about as hillbilly as you can get and his family is European. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honesty, at this point in my life, I can't see getting married anyway. We've just turned twenty-one. He's been with one girl his whole life, and... I just don't get it. I know that we were raised very differently, other than the fact that I was raised just by my mom and Gran, he was raised in the church and I was raised to think for myself- mostly. He came from a big family, I was an only child... but I just don't understand how anyone can be happy with.... that life. I mean I know somewhere deep down I probably want a family and kids, but right now I know I am way too screwed up to be in a healthy committed relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I had an argument with Christy about that the other night. She says I'm being neigitive about myself again. I, personally, don't see it that way. I think I'm being a realist. Right now I am fucked in the head, I have all of this old issues from Bryan and Clare and Shaun, not to mention what my family has put me through, and my own psychosis about who and what I am. I could never function in a relationship. I could never... be secure if what I have because I'd spend most of my time thinking I didn't deserve it. Until I get my head on right pursuing relationships is so pointless. I would end up hurting someone or being hurt again and right now... is just not the time for it. I mean there is someone I'm kind of interested in, ok really interested in- but he's been a close friend for a really long time and our lives are just on different wavelengths now. I'm packing up my life and moving six hours away for goodness sake. Then there is the whole issue of whether or not he's into me and if he is then there must be something wrong with him because we've pretty much determined only psychos ever find me attractive... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I started this as a little update in which I would mention the fact Kadie and I are going to the movies this afternoon, but I've ended up on a whole other tangent. I get side tracked very easily. Anyway, I should finish doing my hair and finding clothes that look cute- since Kadie always looks cute and I feel like I have to try and at least seem like I can keep up. Erf. Anyway. I'm done rambling now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115221006894621268?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115221006894621268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115221006894621268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115221006894621268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115221006894621268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/07/ramble-ramble.html' title='Ramble Ramble'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115205027207158370</id><published>2006-06-28T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T14:35:42.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grittings from the Sticks</title><content type='html'>So, at the moment I am sitting in front of two box type fans on the highest setting wishing that I was home in my lovely, air-conditioned-DSL-internet-equipped-kitten-filled house. This trip has been absolutely exhausting. I have spent more time in the car the last four days that I have in the last four months. The down side to a lot of it has been being in my Mother's little Corsica. The air conditioner, while functioning, is only doing so at half capacity. The ride over the desert was absolutely abysmal. It was just cool enough to remind you how hot it actually was. The CD player is all screwy too, sometimes it will load other times it won't, generally when it does, it does so when you put in the CD you least want to hear. I am officially sick of the Black Eyed Peas. I didn't think that would ever happen. I am also beyond sick of Blondie and Heather Nova- though the latter has always been one of those Artists I have to be in the right sort of mood to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side the last two days we've actually used my Uncle Terry's big beautiful truck to get where we needed to go. It's totally tricked out and fully loaded. It's also roomier than the Corsica, which means that the four of us (Auntie Suzy, Ma, Charity, and I) could travel much more comfortably. That was a relief, as the ride to Plush from Auntie Sue's is about two hours, across desert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as scenery goes, it's not bad; the first part is scraggy brush, scruffy trees, rocks, and sage. About the time you get a view of the tip of Hart Mountain, you get into a more "Hilly Green" sort of landscape. For the largest part of the drive however, there is sand everywhere, which reminds me of home- the ugly part of home that I hate. I am most definitely a "damp-always-green" sort of person. I hate being hot. I hate when you cant hardly breath for the stifling sun. Despite the fact I have been raised around it all of my life, I don't like it. I need to be where gray skies and the rainy drizzle reign supreme; or baring that, somewhere with central air and cell service. That's right, out here you're touch and go most of the way- and about twenty miles outside of Plush you completely lose service. The only net connection is dialup, and you have to get a dish to get even local channels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this would be highly amusing if it were happening only to my mother and I got to be tucked away in my own little apartment here_ However, that appears to not be the case anymore. What was originally a decision that only affected my mother this choice to pick up her life and move six hours from the place we've lived most of my life has now turned around and landed squarely in my lap. Because Kadie decided she couldn't move in with me, or rather her parents decided, I cannot afford to stay here. I also cannot afford an apartment on my own. All of this adds up to the fact unless I want to live in my car I can't stay. This then means that all of my Mother's misfortunes in Plush will now be my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some upsides I suppose, if I go with her that's about $900-1500 a month that we can put away in savings and then put towards the money I have to have upfront for Gastric bypass surgery. Now, for those of you who don't know me, who have no idea, I've struggled with my weight most of my life... well not most of my life, all of my life. I have done every diet, starved myself, binged and purged, and a million other equally unhealthy things, trying to get to a place where I could accept my body for what it was.... The problem is I was working from the outside in. I thought that if I could be thin and beautiful then I would, in turn, be deliriously happy. I would be with men who didn't abuse me, have friends that could love and stand by me no matter what, I would glitter and shine and life would be perfect. If we really want to be honest about it, I thought being thin would make my Daddy love me more. I've finally figured out though, that it isn't about all that. I've gotten to the point that it is much more about being healthy than being thin and at this point... the bypass is like any other tool with the single exception of it being a tool one cannot escape. Its like the treadmill you can't turn into a coat hanger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That mini-rant aside, the other bonus to going with mother and having it done is that I won't have to answer all of the stupid questions. There are people that I want to know, there are people that I feel need to know, and the rest of the world can fuck itself. It is not with shame that I say this, because I feel that shame is not something that should ever have to be connected to someone doing what is best for them, it is more... about not wanting to deal with idiots. I have finally learned that you cannot educate everyone. Those who want to know, whose lives you can help or change, who want to see the light down this path, they will find their way to me. The rest of the world is still very bigoted, not only in judgment of this surgery but of the overweight in general. We have become so obsessed with being thin and "it" that we've lost sight of what should truly matter in life. Of course there are those people who would say I'm a hypocrite because I fully intend, after I've hit my goal weight, to have breast augmentation as well. To them I say the same thing I've said to the people who love me most, "I've given up cutting, cigarettes, booze and soon food. The least I should get out of that trade off is a decent rack." So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the kidlets here want to play, I am sure I'll update again in a few days with more trip information and quite possibly pictures! God knows we took enough up there. I just have to get them developed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much Love&lt;br /&gt;--Sara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115205027207158370?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115205027207158370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115205027207158370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115205027207158370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115205027207158370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/grittings-from-sticks.html' title='Grittings from the Sticks'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115200394100260458</id><published>2006-06-18T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T14:48:15.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Real Entry At Long Last</title><content type='html'>Perhaps we should start with something happy? Lessee.... Oh, I got a B- in Math. I would have had an A, but surprise, surprise, the questions I missed on the final were the questions he didn't really go over. Whatever, a B is a B is a B. That means by this time next year I should be completely done with my AA, and a quarter done with my BA. I got A's in all the rest of my classes, which brought my GPA back up to a 3.5, which makes me happy because I was feeling like a real dummy after the whole Winter Term fiasco. With all of that out of the way, I should be able to start my Duel enrollment in the fall, and hammer out my actually curriculum program by Winter. I'll be doing the majority of my EOU stuff online, though there are a couple classes I'll take on campus, like the 311 with Gill, which is in depth study of Grammar and the "finer points" of writing I see as completely frivolous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Professor G, I don't exactly know how I feel about him. Our relationship has progressed to this strange level that I am not sure I'm completely comfortable with. It was one thing to be his favorite, it's another when he starts making Emily Dickinson cracks because I happen to be very Anti-Male this last term. While he does not know about the whole batting for both teams issue, it's a little awkward. He also would make... pointless comments about my attitude problem- which frankly I don't think I have. Yes, I am sarcastic, yes I am outspoken. I am also right most of the time and when I'm not, I'm willing to listen to the other side of it. I know this denotes his comfort level with me, and in a way it makes me feel good that he's so invested in who I become, but there are times that it feels like it's just one more person I will let down- which is not the way any Professor should make you feel. At least I don't think so. I dunno. His class this last quarter sucked. We did crappy books, and crappy assignments, and I really felt like he just wasn't present for the class, then again maybe that was just my perspective because I've read every single freaking book we had to do, and I read them when I was like 14. There was nothing challenging about being there. However, I am officially done and can now work more heavily on things that interest me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like moving my mother six hours away. That's right everyone, yea you know, the whole two people that read this shit, she got the job. I am scared shitless. I mean I knew she was going to get it, I knew when she came home and they had already called Kip for her reference that the job was hers. Not only is it hers, but it was a unanimous decision. So now, by the end of July/middle of August, I not only have to pack up this house and get it ready to go on the market, but I have to find another place to live, a roommate, help her set up house in Plush- including her classroom, and somewhere in there get another meeting in with A.L. to work on my EOU stuff. Right now I am taking things sort of slow because, deep down, I am really freaking out. Like the other day after Mom left to go work on her Masters program stuff, yea I cried for like two hours. Its not that I don't want her to go, its that everything is so overwhelming. Anyway, other than that, I haven't expressed much emotion about it. I try to be supportive because I know she needs this, I try to keep my panic at a low, and just try to get through each day as it comes. Note the word try on the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things in my life never seem to happen gradually. Has anyone else ever noticed that? Its like I plug along for awhile, everything is semi-right, mostly healthy, and then BAM everything is changing and I can't quite get my head around it. That is what this last month has sort of been like. I have so much to say, so many new thoughts, and yet I don't really want to share them. I have become increasingly aware of the death of my former "Emo-Sara-Cares-A-Lot" self, in small and large ways. I had not fully anticipated this drastic personality change, and yet I think I've been looking at it for the last six months. It's not really drastic at all then is it? I think the thing that is drastic is that I've fully let go of the notion that I care, because I don't. At this point in my life, in my experience, the only thing giving people the benefit of the doubt has gotten me is kicked in the ass. The only people that I have ever let totally close to me, let them see every side of the good bad and ugliness that is me, there is one who has unconditionally accepted that- and even she and I have our ups and downs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I occurred to me the other night that I haven't been the same, really the same, since D. blatantly rejected me. I mean I had already started dealing with some issues after the whole Shaun debacle (notice how in my life events are called Fiascos and Debacles? Yea depressing thought, andway), I mean he and I are still close but I think that's when the shift from Emo-Sara started. Suddenly I was so scared of being drained dry that I would lash out first. I became that emotional vacuum because I couldn't live though another incident like Clare. I couldn't be someone elses whipping girl, though in a lot of ways I still took too much shit from too many people... but when D out and out rejected me, told me I was a bad person... that I was the reason she felt... whatever it was she was feeling... that last little piece of me died. That idea of "comfortably numb" set in, and unless it's anger or irritation I don't feel it anymore. I lock it away because right now anger and irritation are the only things that are safe to feel. They are the only things that won't completely destroy me. I don't do the mushy-girl friendships. I don't have deep heart to hearts. I am sarcastic and scathing, and frankly, I don't care. I have made it very clear to most people in my life that they speak to me at their own risk. If you want to poke a Black Bear and act like a bunch of Fucktards, that's your issue, I will respond accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On more than one occasion this attitude has made Bryan cry. When he tries to tell me it's my fault and I'm a bad person I laugh. I don't think this makes me a bad person, but I think.... the last time he threatened to kill himself and I offered to buy him a rope... that might make me a bad person. However, since he was blaming me for him wanting to commit suicide I figured I might as well have a literal hand in doing it- mostly because I knew he's too pussified to take his own life. I also told him, and several other people that if I wanted a pussy in my life I'd be dating a girl. He didn't think that was funny. I, however, am going to have a shirt made. I also want a bumpersticker that says "Did you just take a fucktard pill?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have little tolerance for Drama related ranting, which is what Bryan does mostly. I mean all he ever does it try to tell me how I have so completely broken him. Which, I don't really understand because a] he's the one stalking me by phone, and b] he's the one who completely broke my heart when I was 16/17 and fucked me up so bad that I don't know if I'll ever have a normal relationship with anyone. I mean, I know that every relationship I've had has done that, but Bryan was right after Jason, in that period of time when I was so desperate for validation and someone to love me that I was willing to put up with anything- I mean anything. He was an adult, he was like 21, and he took advantage of that. I was still a little girl in more ways than one, despite everything that I had been through. He played off my need to be loved, to be needed, he used it for his own benefit. So... I don't really feel bad if I"ve "broken" him this go around. I look at it like I'm getting a bit of my own back finally. Twisted and fucked up logic though it may be, he's the one that continues to call and insists on telling me things about his life like I give two shits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there are about four people that this logic doesn't carry over with. I still &lt;3 Nate, and am actually quite worried about my Folk-Rock Luvr. He's been drinking a lot and then the other night had this whole drunken confession of just how low he's been lately. Its different than when Bryan tells me, with Nate... its not like he's trying to punish me. Its like I asked one question that triggered this lengthy two hour conversation about death and suffering and him not recording for months at a time. I have no answers, but I still love him.. not in like a romantic way, but in the way that we know and understand one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other person that I am loving with my whole heart right now is Jay-Jay. We go through these moments, where everything works and we fit and I adore her. She doesn't balk at my bitch-tendencies, she thinks they're funny. She doesn't get offended when I'm snarky, doesn't cry when I say something needlessly mean- actually sometimes I think we try to out mean one another. It's lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With most other people I don't say a whole hell of a lot of anything. I got tired of being talked down to because I'm only 21, or talked down to because I'm 21 and living at home, or in general, just being talked down to. See, there is a point when you just snap. It's also nearly impossible to listen to anyone who talks in net speak. I know that I say thinks like "I dunno" but I never, ever, do stupid shit like idk. "idkâ" is not a word people. And while I might engage in the occasional lol or lmao, I never add a "z" or "s" to either one- and most of the time I actually say "hehe". Net speak is just irritating to me. Which is the other reason I don't like talking to Bryan, at least online. He's not the brightest bulb in the box, which was cool when I was sixteen because we were at the same level, but now I'm older, I've grown up. I have adult interest, and he's an idiot. Seriously, it's painful sometimes because he still acts like he's seventeen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas I've gotten off topic and forgotten what this all was about anyway, it's also gone on for nearly two full pages in Word (at size 10 font). I believe that means I need to end it and get back to work on cleaning out Grandma's closet. I don't know when Ill update again but not many of you read this anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much luv&lt;br /&gt;--Sara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! PS. Check out these lush ladies: &lt;a href=http://www.myspace.com/reginaspektor&gt;Regina Spektor&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href=http://www.myspace.com/jennyowenyoungs&gt;Jenny Owen Youngs&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href=http://www.myspace.com/chelseagenzano&gt;Chelsea Genzano&lt;/a&gt;, and the divine &lt;a href=http://www.myspace.com/bessrogers&gt;Bess Rogers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115200394100260458?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115200394100260458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115200394100260458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115200394100260458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115200394100260458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/real-entry-at-long-last.html' title='A Real Entry At Long Last'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115200375088130191</id><published>2006-06-13T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T14:52:25.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Fives Edtion</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ten years ago&lt;/b&gt;: I was still a little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five years ago&lt;/b&gt;: I was with Bryan, then Jay, then Clare.... let me rephrase- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five years ago&lt;/b&gt;: I was an emotional whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;One year ago&lt;/b&gt;: I was .still heartbroken over Shaun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five yummy things&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Hershey S'mores mini candy bars&lt;br /&gt;Rainy days spent in bed away from idiots&lt;br /&gt;Liam Neeson&lt;br /&gt;Rice A Roni&lt;br /&gt;White Chocolate Lattes from Joltz n J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five Songs I know by heart&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Taking Over - Chelsea Genzano&lt;br /&gt;Not Ready To Make Nice - Dixie Chicks&lt;br /&gt;Cruel To Be Kind - Letters to Cleo&lt;br /&gt;Soul Suckers - Amos Lee&lt;br /&gt;Fidelity - Regina Spektor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five things I would do with a lot of money&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Pay off all school debt&lt;br /&gt;Retire to the coast and write a book&lt;br /&gt;Buy a whole new body&lt;br /&gt;Visit Stratford on Avon&lt;br /&gt;Pay to have my mother shipped to Ethiopia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five Places I would escape to&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Dublin&lt;br /&gt;New York&lt;br /&gt;Venice &lt;br /&gt;Switzerland&lt;br /&gt;The Virgin Islands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five Things I would never wear&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Hot pants&lt;br /&gt;Cheap plastic shoes that aren't flip flops&lt;br /&gt;Hammer Pants&lt;br /&gt;PLUMBER JEANS with THONG STRAPS showing.&lt;br /&gt;Anything Paris Hilton wore first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five favorite tv shows&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Law and Order SVU&lt;br /&gt;Crossing Jordan&lt;br /&gt;CSI&lt;br /&gt;That 70’s Show&lt;br /&gt;The Book of Daniel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five things I enjoy doing&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Watching Faith, Hope, and Grace.&lt;br /&gt;Shopping&lt;br /&gt;Reading&lt;br /&gt;Sprawling out on the riverbank listening to Amos Lee&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Five Fave Toys&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Napster&lt;br /&gt;PSP 8&lt;br /&gt;Portable DVD Player&lt;br /&gt;DVD Burner&lt;br /&gt;Happy Bunny Plushe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115200375088130191?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115200375088130191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115200375088130191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115200375088130191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115200375088130191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/queen-of-memes-fives-edtion.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Fives Edtion'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115199294247034275</id><published>2006-06-04T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T23:03:12.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: 1oo Random Things Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;1oo Random Things About Mio&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1oo&lt;/b&gt;. I was born in February of 1985&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o99&lt;/b&gt;. My mother never lets me forget she went through thirty-six hours of hellish labor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o98&lt;/b&gt;. I never let her forget she made the next twenty years intolerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o97&lt;/b&gt;. I love anything Pink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o96&lt;/b&gt;. I love anything that sparkles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o95&lt;/b&gt;. I go spastic over things that are Pink AND Sparkle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o94&lt;/b&gt;. I will never be "thin" and people who are annoy me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o93&lt;/b&gt;. I validate myself through my grades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o92&lt;/b&gt;. I will never think I am as pretty, talented, or smart as my cousins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o91&lt;/b&gt;. I'm only happy when it rains. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o9o&lt;/b&gt;. I like life complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o89&lt;/b&gt;. I have been too hurt to ever try to fix anyone ever again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o88&lt;/b&gt;. While I have a group of close knit friends, the person I conceder to be my best friend lives on the other side of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o87&lt;/b&gt;. I Blue Collar Comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o86&lt;/b&gt;. I want to marry Kenneth Branagh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o85&lt;/b&gt;. I'd settle for an intellectual marriage to a certain someone who shall remain nameless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o84&lt;/b&gt;. I am an Indie Movie Snob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o83&lt;/b&gt;. I have the attention span of a Nat unless its something I find terribly interesting,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o82&lt;/b&gt;. I fear being average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o81&lt;/b&gt;. No matter what anyone says I still don't think I'm smart enough to get into Reed or Southern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o8o&lt;/b&gt;. I hate Math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o79&lt;/b&gt;. Science is equally evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o78&lt;/b&gt;. I am only on speaking terms with one of my exes- and its ironic because she's one of my closest friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o77&lt;/b&gt;. I didn't pass my driving test the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o76&lt;/b&gt;. I hate being behind the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o75&lt;/b&gt;. I want to see the world before I'm too old to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o74&lt;/b&gt;. I love too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o73&lt;/b&gt;. I expect too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o72&lt;/b&gt;. I live for jewelry in silver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o71&lt;/b&gt;. I am shallow in a lot of ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o7o&lt;/b&gt;. I would give my soul for a pair of Manolos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o69&lt;/b&gt;. I would give the soul of my first child if I could fit into "skinny jeans".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o68&lt;/b&gt;. I am not above making deals with the devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o67&lt;/b&gt;. I used to be an altruistic hippy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o66&lt;/b&gt;. I take, on average, two showers a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o65&lt;/b&gt;. Most of my underwear is pink and/or lacey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o63&lt;/b&gt;. I am a hopeless romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o62&lt;/b&gt;. Who doesn't believe in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o61&lt;/b&gt;. I hate sunlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o6o&lt;/b&gt;. I am a total night person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o59&lt;/b&gt;. I have a horrible temper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o58&lt;/b&gt;. I hold a long grudge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o57&lt;/b&gt;. I still have all of my dollies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o56&lt;/b&gt;. I would rather have coffee than food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o55&lt;/b&gt;. I don't like most red meat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o54&lt;/b&gt;. I love History.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o53&lt;/b&gt;. I watch documentaries on ancient civilizations for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o52&lt;/b&gt;. I have actually read The Art of War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o51&lt;/b&gt;. But I couldn't finish Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o5o&lt;/b&gt;. I am intimidated by people smarter than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o49&lt;/b&gt;. I am the Comma Princess (Ari is the Queen)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o48&lt;/b&gt;. I have dreams of being published.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o47&lt;/b&gt;. I stand in my own way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o46&lt;/b&gt;. I love dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o45&lt;/b&gt;. I don’t feel worthy of the love I am given by people I perceive to be “better” than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o44&lt;/b&gt;. I don't actually like soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o43&lt;/b&gt;. I drink out of force of habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o42&lt;/b&gt;. I could gladly spend all my money on White Chocolate Lattes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o41&lt;/b&gt;. I would love to spend the rest of my life discussing literature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o4o&lt;/b&gt;. I used to think Goths were hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o39&lt;/b&gt;. I now think on a whole they're self absorbed and annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o38&lt;/b&gt;. I have no tolerance for inconsiderate people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o37&lt;/b&gt;. I am too hard on myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o36&lt;/b&gt;. I am too hard on others when they don't act the way I think they should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o35&lt;/b&gt;. I have never been out of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o34&lt;/b&gt;. I have only ever been marginally out of the state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o33&lt;/b&gt;. I love Family Guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o32&lt;/b&gt;. I watch the Simpsons and That 70’s Show almost every night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o31&lt;/b&gt;. I hated Friends when it was on the air, but love it in reruns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o3o&lt;/b&gt;. I want to be Marilyn Monroe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o29&lt;/b&gt;. I hate Ana Nicole Smith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o28&lt;/b&gt;. I believe Harry Potter is better than Shakespeare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o27&lt;/b&gt;. I actually don't love Shakespeare as much as everyone thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o26&lt;/b&gt;. I just happen to be really good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o25&lt;/b&gt;. I have never used the word "I" so many times in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o24&lt;/b&gt;. I want to live in Ireland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o23&lt;/b&gt;. I will live in New York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o22&lt;/b&gt;. I don't want kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o21&lt;/b&gt;. I like having my own life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o2o&lt;/b&gt;. I no longer desire to be in committed relationships &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o19&lt;/b&gt;. I don’t know if a certain someone fell in love with me back that I could say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o18&lt;/b&gt;. I live in dreaded anticipation for summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o17&lt;/b&gt;. I am jealous of those with innocence and blind faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o16&lt;/b&gt;. I am jealous of those who understand the importance proper punctuation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o15&lt;/b&gt;. I can't be bothered with proper punctuation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o14&lt;/b&gt;. If I were a Stripper my stage name would be Lola St. Clair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o13&lt;/b&gt;. I have completely let go of the biggest crutch in my life (Clare)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o12&lt;/b&gt;. I have no faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o11&lt;/b&gt;. I shop too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;o1o&lt;/b&gt;. It's easier for me to love the flaws of others than accept my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo9&lt;/b&gt;. I think sometimes I’m almost Buddhist, but know I am still too angry and materialistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo8&lt;/b&gt;. If I had been a Grecian Woman, I would have worshiped the furies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo7&lt;/b&gt;. I see things as very black and white, but have little tolerance for others that disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo6&lt;/b&gt;. I have not yet realized my own worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo5&lt;/b&gt;. I'm working on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo4&lt;/b&gt;. I love my mother even though it doesn't always sound like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo3&lt;/b&gt;. The strongest women in my lives all have high school educations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo2&lt;/b&gt;. I believe in love, but am too Jaded to accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;oo1&lt;/b&gt;. I miss dressing up as a fairy princess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115199294247034275?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115199294247034275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115199294247034275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115199294247034275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115199294247034275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/queen-of-memes-1oo-random-things.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: 1oo Random Things Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115196785413780878</id><published>2006-06-03T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T23:04:12.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quenn of the MeMes :: Count Down Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;13 RANDOM THINGS YOU LIKE&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Folk Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Good Writing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Marilyn Monroe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Purses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Earrings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Dancing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Laffy Taffy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; AIM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;09]&lt;/b&gt; Nate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10]&lt;/b&gt; Blogger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11]&lt;/b&gt; Flip Flops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;12]&lt;/b&gt; Myspace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;13]&lt;/b&gt; Pretty Layouts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;12 RANDOM THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Liars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Posers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Drama Queens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Lapses into former personalities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; People who ask for stuff and don’t follow through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Bed Bath and Beyond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; Flip flops that don’t fit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;09]&lt;/b&gt; Grown ass men who act like five year olds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10]&lt;/b&gt; Annoying boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11]&lt;/b&gt; Drunks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;12]&lt;/b&gt; Idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;11 Musicans&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Nate Wazoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Jack Johnson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; The Faders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Joss Stone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Bess Rogers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Janis Joplin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Chelsea Genzano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; Lennon Murphy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;09]&lt;/b&gt; Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10]&lt;/b&gt; No Doubt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11]&lt;/b&gt; Letters to Cleo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;10 THINGS PHYSICALLY&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Recently waxed eyebrows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Sinus ickyness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Cough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Scars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Tall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Chubby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Shoulder length Hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; Blue/Green eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;09]&lt;/b&gt; Ponytail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10]&lt;/b&gt; Bangs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;9 FRIENDS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: [in no order]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Nate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Jay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Foxy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Patti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Erin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Kadie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Lesley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; Dawnelle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;09]&lt;/b&gt; Cordy-Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;8 FOODS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Blended Milky Way Latte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; White Chocolate Latte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Ben and Jerry's Dublin Fudge Icecream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Fried Rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Sun Chips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Dr. Pepper's Berry and Cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Cherries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;08]&lt;/b&gt; Hashbrowns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;7 THINGS WORN DAILY&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Big Hoop Earrings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Pretty bra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Split Slip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Flip flops/Slip ons (I own no real shoes anymore)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Slacks/Skirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Charm bracelet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;07]&lt;/b&gt; Cami&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;6 ANNOYANCES&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Grown men who act like five year olds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Colds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Sinuses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Dumbasses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;06]&lt;/b&gt; Waking up @ 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;5 THINGS TOUCHED DAILY&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Mouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Keyboard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Monkey Walet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Jewelry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;05]&lt;/b&gt; Cds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;4 FAVORITE PLACES TO BE&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; In bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Catherine's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; The mall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;04]&lt;/b&gt; Coffee Shop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;3 CELEB CRUSHES&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Hugh Grant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Colin Firth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;03]&lt;/b&gt; Liam Neeson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;2 ESSENTIALS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; Monkey Walet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;02]&lt;/b&gt; Earrings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;1 WISH&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;01]&lt;/b&gt; To already be moved&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115196785413780878?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115196785413780878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115196785413780878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196785413780878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196785413780878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/quenn-of-memes-count-down-edition.html' title='Quenn of the MeMes :: Count Down Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115196621891749240</id><published>2006-06-02T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T23:01:30.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of the MeMes :: Color Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;RED- anger:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Are you currently mad at someone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, a couple people actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Which of your "friends" has the worst temper?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Have you ever thrown something at anyone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoo’ girl. I’m the Queen of Naomi Campbell like flip outs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Does your face turn red when you're angry?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it depends. If I’m like scary angry, the angry where I say nothing and just sort of seethe, then I turn white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. When you're mad do you prefer to stare angrily or yell and scream?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, it depends on who it is. I have this habit of lashing back in the most hurtful way possible when someone makes me angry- sometimes that means screaming every bad thing I can pick up on from them and some times the most hateful thing you can do is ignore someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;ORANGE- excitment:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Has anyone ever thrown you a suprise party?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. No one luffs me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Are you easily excited?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About some things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. What event is coming up that your most excited about?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, nothing at the moment. I suppose maybe going to see The Devil Wears Prada with Kadie on her next day off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Which of your friends is most exciteable?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kadie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. If you won a million dollars what would be your first thought?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss my ASS student loans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. If you could have anything right now what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Million dollars DUH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;YELLOW- self discovery:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Name?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara Jane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Where were you born?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boise Idaho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.Whats your main goal in life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be healthy and happy. Barring that, filthy fucking rich off my writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Do you want to have children?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell to the No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. How do you want to die?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my sleep, after amazing sex with my pool boy Edwardo- or the cute little maid Elisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;GREEN- opinions:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Sex before marriage?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only good sex. In my book until her first orgasm, a woman is a virgin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Gay Marriage?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooo when and where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Lowering the drinking age?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoot. Wouldn’t change a damn thing ‘cept cut into the money the state collects on MIP fines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Capital Punishment?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuke ‘um&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Abortion?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will never be alright for a man to tell me what I can and can’t do with my body. However, crack whores who use it like birth control should be sterilized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. Recycling?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I’m too lazy, but if I wasn’t hell yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;BLUE- dreams:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. What was your latest dream?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it was a nightmare about this move. I woke up crying. I'm lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Which of your friends do you dream about the most?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm.... None of them. I have to see them everyday. Why would I want to see them in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Have any of your dreams come true?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this weird dream about an ex and my best friend having sex, and like my disowning them both for a brief period of time that actually came to pass about a month after my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Do you usually remember your dreams?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember parts. I sleep to hard, think too much, most of it gets lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. What was the weirdest dream you've ever had?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, the one the other night, the SVU one. It was crazy weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;PURPLE- love:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Do you have a bf/gf?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Do you have a crush?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plead the very fith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Who is the best hugger that you know?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think probably Montana or Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Do you believe in Love at first sight?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not anymore. I believe in lust at first sight though..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Have you ever been in love?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even know what the hell you would call it honestly. I thought it was love at the time, I was stupid though. Real stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115196621891749240?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115196621891749240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115196621891749240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196621891749240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196621891749240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/queen-of-memes-color-edition.html' title='Queen of the MeMes :: Color Edition'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30574317.post-115196519950310141</id><published>2006-06-01T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T15:19:59.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every new beginning comes from someother beginning's end</title><content type='html'>Things in my life seem to be rapidly changing. I have gone from knowing exactly where I live and exactly how I pay my bills each month to having everything completely up in the air. I don’t quite know how to deal with everything I am facing right now- but for those of you just joining this lovely saga, I should start at the beginning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Sara, I am a twenty-one year old college student, who generally puts everyone else before herself and has battled some nasty addictions. I am currently living at home while helping my mother pack up to move six hours away. I am also wondering how I’m going to afford the mortgage since my love able, though ditzy, best friend Kadie has, once again, flaked out on me.  Inherently I know I will pull through, but there are moments of panic that I can’t quite seem to get a handle on lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing of real importance or interest to say at the moment. I don’t quite want to write our an entire biography right this very second. In fact, until I’m completely finished with school I’ll probably post a whole lot of MeMes and bullshit. My brain is broken mmmmyep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30574317-115196519950310141?l=chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/feeds/115196519950310141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30574317&amp;postID=115196519950310141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196519950310141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30574317/posts/default/115196519950310141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chippedchinadoll.blogspot.com/2006/06/every-new-beginning-comes-from.html' title='Every new beginning comes from someother beginning&apos;s end'/><author><name>xoxo SJ</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82lDysOu0q0/Tpj1G4H_DWI/AAAAAAAAABU/yI0xYecRD38/s220/Sara8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
