<?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-6979719723840217015</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:05:16.946-04:00</updated><category term='ocean'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='other'/><category term='babysitting'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='movies'/><category term='fights'/><category term='books'/><category term='politics'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='college'/><category term='music'/><category term='school'/><category term='theatre'/><category term='book'/><category term='television'/><category term='traveling'/><category term='cheering'/><category term='leaving'/><category term='homework'/><category term='scrapbooking'/><category term='haircuts'/><category term='jobs'/><category term='prom'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='family'/><category term='bonfire'/><category term='homecoming'/><category term='cleaning'/><title type='text'>My Cute Cake</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-1321715471861204536</id><published>2010-02-26T19:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T19:32:39.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Constant Migraine</title><content type='html'>I have had this migraine in my head behind my eyes and on the sides of my temples for days now.  I am starting to wonder if it will ever go away. My social life and everything with Devin has never been better.  I have gotten into three great colleges so far.  And I'm excited about leaving this whole mess at home behind when I go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But behind closed doors everything is a mess at home.  This divorce between my parents is just getting worst and worst.  It's turning my dad into a different person.  And all they ever do is fight since they are staying in the same house.  I really just want it to be done with but I know it isn't that easy. Money is so tight because they both make so little.  I find it hard to give them my dance bills so I can pay for my costumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is trying to hurt my mom by turning off the oil account or electricity.  And I have seriously begun to hate him because of how selfish he is acting.  He is hurting my brother and I too.  I'm just so sick and tired of being told how I will understand everything one day when I'm older.  I don't need to be 40 years old to understand when my dad is acting immature and selfish and like a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today he approached me saying since my car needs to be used more that he is going to start using it.  And I got offensive, saying I love how I got a choice on who used my car.  He said how the car was in his name and how he paid for insurance.  but my mom pays for my gas... not him.  Seems pretty fair to me.  And now I need to let him know when I'm using my car?  How about he lets me know when he's using it?  It's my flipping car! Not his.  And since Shane is now done with Hockey my mom won't be staying at school for me so I will have to take mine there every day or so now.  And last summer when he was using it he would fill up the gas to an 1/8 a tank.  Gee thanks for getting me to dance class and back.  Glad you paid for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best part is, when I told him no I didn't want to share it with him.  He threatened me!  He threatened to stop paying for insurance and then he threatened he'd sell the house because he can't afford everything.  Just this morning he threatened to turn the electricity off on us because I accidently forgot to turn off the TV.  I just can't handle him anymore.  And yet, I don't know what to do.  And he doesn't want my mom involved with the car problem but I think it involves her too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-1321715471861204536?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1321715471861204536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/constant-migraine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1321715471861204536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1321715471861204536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/constant-migraine.html' title='A Constant Migraine'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-6392234514952115062</id><published>2009-12-26T17:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T18:35:22.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa Came to Town</title><content type='html'>I think I finally reached the stage in my life where I no longer care about Christmas presents.  Seems like it came a little early in my life, but that is the way the cookie crumbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a happy Christmas present, my father decided to leave us.  We do not know when he will we back, nor do I care. He is with my grandparents who live four hours away, and I suspect he is enjoying himself because he actually gets a heated room to sleep in, rather than the room above our garage which is definitely not heated in any way and can get abnormally cold since the state I live in reaches degrees well below freezing point.  He did not bring the presents my mom bought for his parents, probably because he is trying to make them believe she is a coldhearted witch. Presents from her would not help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in my normal days of Cristmas, before my parents were getting a divorce, we use to have my grandparents, uncle, mom and dad, and brother and I all at the house for quite a few days and Christmas morning.  Yesterday we had three: my brother, mom, and me. From 8 to 3... Quite a jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recieved the normal toiletries as socking stuffers.  I recieved 6 DVDs, 3 books, 2 sets of pajamas, and 4 pairs of socks.   My big present was one of the new purple ipod nanos.  The one that can shoot video.  I don't like purple, but I didn't tell my mom that.  I figured she would have known since I've been with her for seventeen years and half the clothes in my closet are green-- my favorite color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ipod does not work.  What crap, right?  My headphones that cost my $20 do not fit into the hole, the head phones that came with the ipod do not even fit into the hole.  And it will still play but you have to turn them to make sure they touch the ipod inside perfectly in order to just get sound in one earbud.  And then, when there is sound coming out of it the volume is uneffective.  No matter how high or how low I put the volume, it stays the same exact volume in the partially working earbud.  But, when I take them out and just listen to it without anything it plays and I can lower the volume, of course everyone then can hear my music.  When I take it back, they better fix it, or give me a new one.  Or I will be very upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was sort of a leisure day for me.  I had to drop off my brother to his hockey game because my mom decided to hang out with "Lisa" today, who lives in Augusta.  And I know she is not hanging out with Lisa but her boyfriend; Whom I happened to meet on Christmas, finally.  My brother revieved an xbox 360 for Christmas and my mom said it came from a friend who had accidently bought it.  And when we asked who her friend was she wouldn't tell us.  Obviously that was the key right there that told me it was her boyfriend who I had been trying to findout about for months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on my brother told my mom the cord did not match with the xbox, and so it was not working.  She called her "friend" up and he sure enough was on his way to help.  She told my brother his name was Dale.  My brother asked if it was her boyfriend but she said no only her friend.  And that they had been friends for a long time.  "Why have we never met him before then?" My brother asked.  And she said it was none of our business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he came into the house my Grandpa Steven (mom's dad) put him to work shoveling dirt onto our steep long slippery driveway.  I studied him through the window.  He wasn't fat nor young.  He had a full head of hair, unlike my dad, but it was all turning gray.  I looked at my mom, who was cooking in the kitchen.  She had changed into her tight flair jeans that she gets in my section of the clothes store.  And a low cut long sleeve shirt that deffinitly showed cleavage.  I knew she was not getting dolled up for us or my grandpa.  I was still in my pajamas, a round bun still on the top of my head.  My mom was filling me in on how he was really into snowmobile racing.  But that was about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he came in my first honest to God impression of him was that he was rude.  He started complaining about having to put dirt on the driveway.  My mom apologized, I wanted to say something sarcastic and rude back to him but I kept my mouth shut.  I immediately noticed my mom started flipping her hair over her shoulder on purpose.  Not just once but once over teh right and then 10 secs. later over the left, and in another back over her right.  Like something was wrong with her neck.  And her voice changed to her "oh-i'm-a-sweet-girl-who-smiles-all-the-time."  This was deffinitly HIM.  This Dale guy was my mom's thing she had been sneaking off with for how many months now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being rude, he started complaining also about how he had to drive so far to get here to help my brother, and started complaining how he had to be somewhere soon.  What an uppity-prick.  He looked like one of those guys that makes sure all their nose hairs are plucked before they go anywhere.  Thinking they are better than everyone and anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did not stay for more than ten minutes, but him and I actually got in a disagreement before he left.  About wether or not xbox cost money to go live.  Which it does.  And I made sure i told him so.  My mom glared at me.  While he was talking to my grandfather she was beinding over right infront of him pretending topick some crumb off the ground, her thong half way up her back that even her father could see. I wanted to yell "SLUT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she walked him to the door where I listened in to her saying thank you and then she must have lipped somehting to him cause he said something back without her saying anything.  And then he left.  And not five minutes later my mom's phone rings.  I can never tell usually if she's talking to him, but I found out she was because she was saying how he could have stayed for supper.  And then she said say hi to your parents for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now she is down there again, and I want to slap her because I have to bring Shane places while my slut of a mom is off having sex with her secret boyfriend she still won't admit to us.  Sometimes I can just picture the scenario of what happens when I tell her off about him: "Have fun slut with your booty call today?  How was Dale doing, or did you guys not talk much?"  I wonder what would happen, but I won't say it.  Not till the time is right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-6392234514952115062?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/6392234514952115062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/santa-came-to-town.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/6392234514952115062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/6392234514952115062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/santa-came-to-town.html' title='Santa Came to Town'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-81900069328671759</id><published>2009-11-28T01:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T02:05:16.049-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babysitting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other'/><title type='text'>The Worst Day</title><content type='html'>I started my babysitting job today that got planned out on Tuesday.  The girl I am doing it for is only twenty and she has a two year old son.  Apparently she goes through a  lot of babysitters.  She needs one for everyday of the weekend Friday to Sunday while she works at a minimum wage pay job.  So I feel bad for taking her money period.  This week I was suppose to babysit Friday(today) 1:30 to 7 and Sunday 9 to 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to leave and she calls me saying she got invited out by friends and so I would have to stay later but she was not sure what time she would be back.  So I said that was fine.  I get there and the toddler was really great.  He really behaved, never cried.  He is obsessed with Elmo and I had to watch it with him about 10 times which made me want to just die but whatever.  All in all it was extremely boring, I followed him around all day in the small living space he has.  He found it fun to put little books in my hands in a stack while I sat there and was bored out of my mind.  I don't know how he does it everyday.  I tried putting in movies like Finding Nemo but he wasn't real interested.  He ate a ton and was good until bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not changed a diaper in years and so I forgot which way it went on, I had to call the mom, which probably did not make her too happy.  And I still think I did not put it on tight enough.  Then, it was bed time at 8 for him so I told him so and he freaked out.  Started crying and running around the house.  I had to change his diaper but he just kept rolling around on the floor. And wouldn't sit still for me to put on his PJs, I was tired and bored and I just started crying cause I was so tired of it.  And finally I got him into his room and closed the door so he couldn't run around, I got his PJs on while he was preoccupying himself and then got him into his crib which he wasn't too happy about and he cried himself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited till 11:40 for her to come home, I am not even suppose ot be up and driving at 12 because theres a curfew in our state about it.  She came back with a guy and I got $15 for the whole thing.  Suppose to get $20 but she spent too much money while she was out.  So I was there for ten hours.... till midnight and that's how much I got paid.  I am still mad about it.  I don't even want to d this for her anymore.  How many mom's just take advantage of their babysitter on their first day?  Kinda bad....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when I was leaving, I do not know my way around the town they live in so I was using my GPS and my GPS thought I was somewhere where I wasn't or something cause I ended up being in this place next to a river that was like a big parking lot but with no spaces or houses or businesses around, and I don't even know what I was driving on was a road... SO I started crying again cause I was lost.  My GPS was actually telling me to turn right into the river!  I was so upset.  I eventually found my way out and home.  All upset about everything else in my crappy night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I get home to go to bed and I find out my toothpaste is gone!  Cause my brother ran out of toothpaste so he stole mine, and then decided to leave to someone's house with it.  I want to punch someone right now I am so mad.  Such a terrible night and it's almost 1 in the morning cause I'm so mad I can't even relax and go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and here's the cherry to the splendid night.  I come home wanting to just vent and talk to Devin.  And he tells me he's at his friends house.  Which, he says, "Has been planned since Tuesday."  And to that I responded by saying how much I loved his communication with me.  I now apparenlty have ESP.   Ergggggggghhhhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-81900069328671759?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/81900069328671759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/worst-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/81900069328671759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/81900069328671759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/worst-day.html' title='The Worst Day'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-260884402523280047</id><published>2009-11-24T13:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T13:54:45.001-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><title type='text'>There are Dirty Dishes in the Sink</title><content type='html'>My house is a mess! All because my mom just had surgery last week and she is going to b out for six weeks.  S she is down at my Nan's for God only knows how long, where she will be staying because "it is less stressful than being here," 'cause my dad yells at her all the time and starts fights.  So dumb that they're getting a divorce and still live in the same house.  How stupid can you get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyways, I went on a tangent in the kitchen after I woke up. The dishwasher was clean so I unloaded all the dishes and put them away and then I reorganized the silverware draw.  I have this fetish with my silverware, they have to be perfectly clean.  And the thing all the silverware was in was all gross and crummy so I vacuumed it out and scrubbed it with Lysol.  I put tons of "dirty" silverware laying the crumbs in the dishwasher and then I loaded the dishwasher with dishes that have been in teh sink for a couple days now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. whenever I cook something in a pan or what not I always eat what I make and then I clean up my mes.  And when I mean clean up I mean I scrub my pan and everything else.  My dad and brother on the other hand do not.  So there is pans and everything else sitting in the sink that have been there for five days now.  And it smells, and is so gross.  But I AM NOT goign to clean it.  I will not.  I refuse.  It's not fair that I clean my messes as I make them and they just leave eveyrhting aorund expecting me to clean them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if my dad comes home and tells me to pick up my messes I am not going to be a happy camper.  I will not scrub there dishes, and if he tells me I used those dishes too I swear I'm gunna karate chop him.  I haven't eaten ANY of the meals he's made this whole week since Mom has been gone.  Not one bite.  So I shouldn't have to touch his friggin pans, and I'll be so mad and probably start a fight if he tells me I have to clean them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-260884402523280047?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/260884402523280047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/there-are-dirty-dishes-in-sink.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/260884402523280047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/260884402523280047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/there-are-dirty-dishes-in-sink.html' title='There are Dirty Dishes in the Sink'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-9075857484262036967</id><published>2009-11-01T15:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T15:57:41.709-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://artvoice.com/issues/v6n43/listings/haunted_houses_hay_rides_halloween_parties_and_more/rocky_horror_picture_show"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 292px;" src="http://artvoice.com/issues/v6n43/listings/haunted_houses_hay_rides_halloween_parties_and_more/rocky_horror_picture_show" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night was Halloween, and I had a blast! :]  Devin and I went to Kaeli's house for a party where about 12 of us sat around a table and played Apples to Apples for a few hours.  Then we played Bullshit.  Samara and I just sat and chatted next to each other and really did not pay attention to what was happening.  I ate tons of junk food yesterday.  I had rice crispy treats, chips, popcorn, soda, cupcakes and candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 9 we left to go to the theater and see The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  We bought a little prop bag, but sadly there was no toast in there so I regret not bringing my own toast to throw.  It was my first time going to see the movie and I had a a lot of fun.  There was one guy in the theater who had obviously see the movie a lot because he was yelling out little side comments throughout the whole movie.  They were funny, but they were extremely inappropriate.  In the beginning he said, "In a Galaxy far far away, God created a mouth.  And that mouth said..." and the lips started talking.  Devin told me he was suppose to yell out stuff, cause that is what you did at that movie.  but when I yelled something he told me to not say anything. :)  I was confused but oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-9075857484262036967?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/9075857484262036967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/9075857484262036967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/9075857484262036967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween!'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-3684071213032376189</id><published>2009-10-29T17:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T17:48:27.254-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theatre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I realize it has been awhile since I have last posted, but I have an excuse.  For one thing, my college application.  I sent in two of my early action ones that were due November 1.  Sadly, I do not think my idiotic guidance counselor has sent in my transcript and what not.  So her head is on the chopping block.  Secondly, my internet has not been working.  Anytime I wanted to blog I got this stupid Accessed is Denied error.  And not for just this website, but for EVERY website.  It was very annoying since it has been lasting for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's new with my life?  Well Quarter One closed.  I got a 97.71 in AP Calc, 97.27 in History, 99.28 in College English, and 100 in Honors Physics.  Actually a 104, but sadly, they won't count it on the report card.  My GPA before was 97.90 so hopefully those two 97s won't bring it down... I am third in my class and am trying with great effort to be second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second of all, I have been very enthused with the news lately... So much stuff is going on lately!  First off, I would like to complain about the Representative who called someone a whore on the floor.  What a rude rude man.  He should be sacked.  I have no respect for him what so ever.  Second of all, I would like to clap my hands to Senator Snowe for now not-supporting the Health Care Public Option.  Although, she will probably change her mind in a week because that is how she is.  Third, I think it is an idiotic move by Obama to take the troops out of the Middle East.  I like Obama as a person but I do not hink he has the brightest ideas.  That country is very unstable, and without us there to lead their government I am afraid it will turn Facist and we will have another World War on our hands.  And imagine a nuclear war?  That would be horrible... Not to mention Obama took down our Missle defense, so America is a sitting duck.  Not the brightest idea when you have dictators over in the Middle East talking about how they just want to blow up America.... People do not realize how much they hate us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough with Politics though.  I made the one part available in the play a few weeks back.  Yippie!  I am an alienist which is a therapist.  My name is Dr. Morgan, and I am suppose to be youngish with a sense of mystery aorund me.  Plus an accent., which my director says is coming around well.  All I'm doing is rolling my R's.  I need help though!  I need to look at some gypsies/fourtune tellers in some movies or online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone knows a video that I can see one of these in so I can get my personality rigt, you'd be the best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-3684071213032376189?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3684071213032376189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-realize-it-has-been-awhile-since-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3684071213032376189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3684071213032376189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-realize-it-has-been-awhile-since-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-1709767814047547249</id><published>2009-10-12T19:07:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:26:52.021-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Columbus Day, a TV day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://allserieslinamarcela.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/how-i-met-your-mother-cast-how-i-met-your-mother-791268_1280_10241.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 221px;" src="http://allserieslinamarcela.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/how-i-met-your-mother-cast-how-i-met-your-mother-791268_1280_10241.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I never really understood why every kid in teh US got Colombus Day off...  Who seriously celebrates that?  I am not going to complain, cause it is a day off, but I mean.. They don't even give us Halloween off!!  And a lot of people celebrate that! (I still do :P)  So I have spent the majority of my day watching TV.  I watched a few NCIS episodes from the first season... that show never gets old to me.  I hope it never ends.  In about an hour I will be watching my favorite show ever!! How I Met Your Mother.  The best show in the world, I am convinced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and dad are getting divorced, as I have previously talked about, and for a couple months now she has been lying through her teeth at me by saying she isn't seeing anyone.  There's ths person on her phone that will text her things like "love you" "nite" "i am proud ot be with you" "can i get jake part time" "i can't wait to build a house with you".  I don't even know how to confront her about it.  I know what city the guy is from, but unfortuantly you have to pay .99 cents to get the name of the person online.  Ticks me off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had to jobshadow so I could put it on my college applications.  I shadowed a nurse on the maternity ward.  It was a long 12 hour day, but I actually learned a lot.  I got to watch a baby boy get circumcised (poor little thing), he was so cute.  And I got to sooth a baby girl when we had to take her blood samples or whatever.  No one was in labor sadly, so I didn't get to witness that.  I learned that as a maternal nurse you hve to be very open about parts of the body you don't normally talk about, I must have heard the word penis and vagaina and bowl movement and stool more times than I had in my whole life.  But I am glad to know what I am getting into, and I think I chose the right major :)  So now I am excited to start learning at college.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-1709767814047547249?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1709767814047547249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/columbus-day-tv-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1709767814047547249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1709767814047547249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/columbus-day-tv-day.html' title='Columbus Day, a TV day'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-4748098599051812425</id><published>2009-09-30T15:11:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T15:44:26.645-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homecoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Homecoming Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsO0JtIXdrI/AAAAAAAAAI0/d7wJW5K0Ivc/s1600-h/Image15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsO0JtIXdrI/AAAAAAAAAI0/d7wJW5K0Ivc/s320/Image15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387347658091755186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsOzvquK4sI/AAAAAAAAAIs/6o3zq6MjSPc/s1600-h/Image14.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsOzvquK4sI/AAAAAAAAAIs/6o3zq6MjSPc/s320/Image14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387347210768409282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsO0gN2yIjI/AAAAAAAAAI8/09Da6B7vDd8/s1600-h/Image10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsO0gN2yIjI/AAAAAAAAAI8/09Da6B7vDd8/s320/Image10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387348044833497650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I realize I have a long tongue and look like I am going to eat poor Devin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a four day weekend at school.  Yay!  Time for me to write my college essays.  Im' so scared about choosing which college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am planning on seeing Whip It on Friday.  With Ellen Page! So psyched!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-4748098599051812425?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4748098599051812425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/homecoming-pictures.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/4748098599051812425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/4748098599051812425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/homecoming-pictures.html' title='Homecoming Pictures'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SsO0JtIXdrI/AAAAAAAAAI0/d7wJW5K0Ivc/s72-c/Image15.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-651166785013536563</id><published>2009-09-27T14:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T15:42:37.977-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homecoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fights'/><title type='text'>A Horrible Homecoming</title><content type='html'>Wow! I have not posted in forever... good thing I only have to pretty much finish an essay for homework today, I would not have blogged otherwise...  Now... What have I been up to for the past 20 days?  Same old stuff.  I was busy with homecoming this past week, and I mean REALLY busy.  I am secretary of our class and every homecoming there is a float (for parade) contest, a hallway contest, and then there is just the pep rally.  We got first in everything except the float, we competed against the other three classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Homecoming Dance was last night, and wow, was it quite a day before.  My parents and I have been getting in a lot of fights cause I just want to be left alone lately cause if I am not I always hear or see them fighting and yelling, it's horrible.  Thursday night I was eating supper and my mother and friggin' brother would not shut up.  They kept telling me to stop eating like that, blah, blah, you're eating too fast.  And my brother just (like always) had to add his two cents in and say stuff under his breath like how I was a pig.  And I had had enough.  it'd been a stressful week, and I did not want to be told and nagged at by my brother how I was suppose to eat so I got mad and left.  My dad came storming in and told me I was eating with everyone else.  I told him I wasn't cause I jsut want to be left alone.  they wouldn't leave me alone, so I just walked outside got into teh car and locked the doors.  I didn't go back in till way later when everyone was sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had just gotten home from teaching the preschoolers and my mom starts nagging at me to put away my shoes and clothes and this and that.  And my brother, of course, is sitting there with my cousin Dalton.  And I am just talking to my mom saying, "Jesus it's not the end of the world I will get everything done before I leave." Because I had a hair appointment in like 20 mins.  And Shane starts mumbeling stuff about me and how I was apparently talking to my mom under his breath.  And I had had enough!  So I turned around and yelled, "Shut the heck up Shane okay?  I am sick and tired of you just getting away with caling me names and telling me what to do and mumbeling stuff about me under your breath!  this has nohting to do with you so shut up!"  My mom then starts getting mad and telling me that was uncalled for cause he had said nothing.  (He's her saint baby boy.  And he does nothing wrong).  So I just walk to my room and close the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad comes storming in saying all he can hear is me yelling outside.  And he tries coming into my room but I hold the door shut and then he just slams the door on me with one shove.  He tells me to sit downa nd I tell him no cause I have to leave I have no time for this.  And he starts telling me that I have no right to talk to my parents this waya nd that way, and I of course am comfused and say, "this has nothing to do with that.  it has to do with Shane always butting into everything and alway demeaning me under his breath and you two doing nothing about it!"  And we fight some more.  And I just start asking him why he is fighting with me for just telling my brother to shut up.  And my mom comes in saying how Shane never sad anything and I just said, "that's because you never hear anythign Saint Baby Shane would say."  My mom gets all ticked off and starts yelling at me.  And I start packing up all my stuff so I can just get ready somewhere else for homecoming, not at home.  And they STILL are telling me stupid stuff like how I can't do this and that and how I am so spoiled and cannot always get what I want.  And that made me mad.  So I said, "how is me wanting Shane to not tell me what to do and to not mumble stuff about me getting what I want?  How is that being friggin spoiled?"  And I just keep yelling how I need to leave cause I was laready late by like 10 mins.  And they keep telling me I am not going anywhere.  And my mom told me I was not bringing eveyrhting with me, that i was coming right back home so SHE could take a picture.  And i got mad, cause I had had plans to meet my friends and take pictures with them and get ready with them.  But now everyhting had to change cause my mom said so.  And she gets whatever she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I told her no.  I was going with my friends, not going back home.  And then she picked up the phone and called to cancel my hair appointment, saying I would not go to homecoming.  So I started screaming that I hated her and so on.  She told me why didn't I just get a gun and shoot her if I hated her so much.  And I told her I could just stab her.  Of course she told me I was psychotic, but what would you say? It was my Senior Homecoming, my last one, and they had no right to take that away from me.  My dad threw my dress down the stairs "since I wasn't going" and my parents just told me I wasn't going out of my room.  So as soon as they left my room I opened my window, threw my bag with everything in it but my dress outside and attempted to climb out.  I made a lot of noise because my piano is infront of my window that I could not move.  Plus, my window is like ten feet off the ground.  I ended up hanging from the ledge and then jumping down.  I scraped up my arms really bad.  They have brusies everywhere and these deep cuts and burn marks from skinning them against the side of the house on the way down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad heard me and ran outside to meet me at my car.  He took my keys away and I just sat and cried on the pavement screaming how I hated them and how they were the worst parents ever and I didn't do anything even wrong.  By then I was lucky enough when I followed him inside to grab my keys.  And I ran outside and left in my car.  My hairdresser was running behind thank God, and so I waited for her to be done.  I kept worrying that one of my parents was going to come in and drag me outside back to the house.  And I had no idea how I was getting my dress.  I had everything else.  They had ruined everything.  It was suppose to be a happy day for me.  And they screwed it up just like how they screw everything else up.  What was worst was that i had cuts all down my arms and wrists and bruises too form teh window.  So I had to make up some lame story to my hairdresser so she didn't think I was suicidal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devin met me after my hair was done.  My mom called me while I was telling him what happened.  She told me to bring him with me s she could take a picture.  I was furious, just an hour ago shehad told me I couldn't go and now she wanted a freakin picture.  I swear to God she is bipolar.  But I knew I would have to go back anyways to get my dress.  So I went, I hoped my parents wouldn't be that bad since Devin was there.  But they probably knew I had told him about all the other stuff they have done too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took three photos and then I left.  I slept over another girl's house that night.  And I came back at 7:30 this morning.  My dad just came in and told me we needed to dicuss what happened yesterday.  And I ignored him.  I wish they would just leave me alone.  So he asked me if I learned anything from yesterday and I told him I hadn't.  But I did learn something.  I learned that I hated them even more than I thought I ever did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try putting up pictures soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-651166785013536563?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/651166785013536563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/horrible-homecoming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/651166785013536563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/651166785013536563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/horrible-homecoming.html' title='A Horrible Homecoming'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-1454035639210294516</id><published>2009-09-07T18:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T18:43:19.977-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bonfire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheering'/><title type='text'>Horton Hears an Inglorious Basterd</title><content type='html'>I have been super busy lately with homework and cheering.  I have practice after school everyday and Devin has a soccer game two times a week I have to go to.  I am currently boycotting my history essay that I really do not want to write.  It doesn't even have anything to do with history.  it's about our dreams for the future.  I mean, what type of teacher tells you to go write an essay to him (as a senior in high school) about what your dreams are?  Seems dumb to me.  I don't want to tell my teacher how many kids I plan on having, just kinda awkward, but oh well.  I need the grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently getting like an 88 in my English class right now, which is not good at all... he actually grades these 25 min writes that he gives us.  God, I hate it when teachers do that.  grade a paper I had 25 mins to think about and write?  Geez thanks for the D.  His class is gunna be the death to my 3rd place in my ranking.  I'm gunna have to step it up a knotch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Friday night there was a football game I had to cheer at.  We won, 55-14.  Big surprise, our school is all about football.  Later the cheerleaders had to go to a team bonfire.  I meant to only stay till midnight, but Trisha came back right after leaving and told me how there was a road block near my road.  they were pulling opver everyone and giving them breath tests and what not.  None of us were obviously drinking, but I was scared to death to talk to a police officer, I wouldn't even know what to do.  Plus, this silver van kept stopping infornt of the bon fire and then leaving real fast, and then coming back to watch us.  So creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So me, Trisha, Lindsay, Sierra, and Dalis ended up sleeping at Gram's.  I fell asleep with her fat cat on me which is so fat it can't turn to clean its own butt. So she has poop all over her white fur.  So gross.  I woke up yelling she was eating my face, I guess, I don't remember, Sierra told me I did.  They didn't go to sleep till 4:30 AM.  And we woke up at 11, but did not go downstairs till around 2 for our "brekfast"?  Devin's game was later at 6, they lost by one point.  They had been tied and had to go into overtime.  After the game we went to Tim Horton's with Devin's friends, where I ate a sandwich and soup.  Devin's friend's girlfriends (if that make sense) I don't think they like me that much.  They ignore me.  Whatever, idc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Dvein and I saw Inglourious Basterds.  It was alright, deffinitly a turn on history.  Not as brutal as the director's Resevoir Dogs, but still kinda brutal.  But I like blood and guts sprayed with some humor here and there.  Brad Pitt's mustache was funny in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-1454035639210294516?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1454035639210294516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/horton-hears-inglorious-basterd.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1454035639210294516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1454035639210294516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/horton-hears-inglorious-basterd.html' title='Horton Hears an Inglorious Basterd'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-985869149674977222</id><published>2009-08-27T21:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:21:32.819-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>So today I had my first day of school.  Devin is in all my classes, but we do not sit next to each other in any of them.  He sits next to his friends, so oh well.  I am not too excited with my English class because my teacher is like a grammar freak.  I am alright with grammar but not the best.  He gave us this horrible six page assignment today where we had to edit this nasty essay.  I did not even know how to edit half of it because sentences and paragraphs did not even make sense since they were rambling on about nonsense.  I am upset with my AP Calc class because there is so many people in there and no room!  We sit at these tiny little tables with 3-4 people at each.  It sucks.  I hope we do something about it.  My history class is swampped too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I have been getting in a lot of fights lately.  Seems like we always go through rough patches once in awhile.  She's just really grumpy lately.  I went to Devin's soccer game yesterday and they won 4-0.  My cousin Jenny came over and I ordered some makeup online because she gets free shipping on ELF makeup if we buy so much.  I bought some nail polish and eye makeup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of cheering practice lately.  We do so many leg workouts before practice, my legs are going to be beasts by the time the season is over.  We have our first game to cheer at tomorrow, I had to teach everyone the dance we were doing at half time so hopefully it looks good ;)  I am watching Ponnochio (sp) right now on ABC Family.  I have not seen this movie in forever.  It is so cute!  Well that is it for my boring life right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-985869149674977222?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/985869149674977222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/985869149674977222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/985869149674977222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-8320966039318237948</id><published>2009-08-17T16:25:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T16:45:42.208-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ocean'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book'/><title type='text'>The Big Blue and School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sathyasaibaba.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/ocean-of-love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 145px;" src="http://sathyasaibaba.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/ocean-of-love.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a few days ago Devin and I went to the ocean, my friends all cancelled on me, but we both had a great time.  I taught him "sorta" how to boogy-board, because I think it's a blast.  But he did not do to well, he liked to use the board the wrong way and go against the wave... good thing he did not break my board.  We then sat in one of those mini-pools caused by the waves going out, because the water was warm there.  And we tried burying eachother in the sand, and eventually we got into a mud fight which adults seem to frown upon. :]  By the time I changed out of my batheing suit to leave, I had about a pound of sand in my bikini bottoms and top.  Not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left to go to a concert that had The Wallflowers playing.  I bought their t-shirt with the help of Devin (he's the sweetest).  Most people know them as the band that sings the immensly famous song One Headlight, which came out in the 90s.  The lead singer is the son of Bob Dylan, I guess?  It went well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recieved my schedule for school in the mail.  I have ten days till school starts, wow that's scary.  I have a lot to do.  For the first semester I have AP Calculus, US History II, College Prep English, and Honors Physics.  The first semester is going to be rough.  I have to buy my binders for my classes still and stuff.  I cannot believe I only have one year left.  Scary.  I am afraid to grow up.  I wish I could be Peter Pan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-8320966039318237948?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/8320966039318237948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/big-blue-and-school.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/8320966039318237948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/8320966039318237948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/big-blue-and-school.html' title='The Big Blue and School'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-1355016282511835327</id><published>2009-08-09T20:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T21:37:25.666-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><title type='text'>Where did time go?</title><content type='html'>I feel like the summer came and went so fast this year.  Probably does not help that I have not been to the beach once this year, yet.  I will be going on the 15th with Devin and a whole group of my theater friends.  I cannot believe that August has not had as much rain as July and June.  I feel like I have so much to do before school starts and such little time.  I still have not finished scrapbooking for my prom.  I hope I can complete it within the next week since preseason for Cheering starts on the 16th.  I will have practice everyday, but weekends, from then on.  And school starts the 27th.  Where did time go?  I still have a lot to do on my list I made a while back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back today from my camp.  No reception there or anything, and the shower pressure is horrible.  But I had fun relaxing.  I rode on the four-wheeler at night with my Dad.  And throughout the day I would play &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;skip-Bo&lt;/span&gt; with my Grandmother and brother.  My brother is now addicted.  It got old after 15 or so games of it.  My Grandma buys me tons of sweets like candy, cookies, and the junk food cereal.  So I vegged out on that and some watermelon while I watched NCIS and one movie: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beverly Hills Chihuahua&lt;/span&gt;.  And behind that decieving movie trailers and case is actually a pretty cute movie.  I like kid movies, and I think lots of kids like talking dogs, mice, and iguanas.  Whats not to love about that?  You cannot help but laugh at a dog walking around in high heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am cleaning out my bathroom drawers and closet tonight.  I have already arranged all my hair-ties in rainbow order.  Tomorrow is a uniform fitting for cheering and then my yearly physical!! I hate physicals.  So much.  Last year I had been on my "once-a-month-thing" when I went so I got away with them looking down there.  However, they did still have to feel for lumps.  I think I am going to lie and say I'm on the "once-a-month-thing" again so maybe I'll get away with it.  It's just so awkward to have a few doctors looking down there... God help me if I have kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-1355016282511835327?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1355016282511835327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/where-did-time-go.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1355016282511835327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/1355016282511835327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/where-did-time-go.html' title='Where did time go?'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-2175651314297396412</id><published>2009-08-02T14:46:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T16:01:24.435-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Photos</title><content type='html'>Agh, I do not feel well at all today.  It's like 80 degrees out and I am dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants and have a blanket around me.  I have the chills and my muscles feel like jello.  I woke up at 11 today, my family went to the coast, but I felt sick.  After an hour of trying to edit one senior photo I felt too sick, so I went back to sleep on the couch this time.  I just woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hired someone to take the photos for only $40.  Because it is so expensive now to hire someone who does it all the time.  And now I have to edit them.  They came out good, I just wished I was prettier lol.  But don't we all?  Clicking through a bunch of pictures of my face for a long time makes me feel ugly.  What great self esteem I have.  Probably does not help that I feel like crap.  Since I am not the best editor and it takes me a day to do just one photo, I think I will have to try to figure something else out.  But my internet right now will not log onto Buzzwithus.com  I'm not sure why.  But it's peeing me off.  I have a lot of stuff to get done and only three weeks till school starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's some pictures of me, deffinitly not edited yet cause my hair is all frizzy.  (Keep in mind I reduced the size and crap, so no one go editing these ones if you're trying to be nice, I'd feel bad to say I can't keep it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXnCjacVbI/AAAAAAAAAGc/9WGADLxAWyI/s1600-h/sp-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXnCjacVbI/AAAAAAAAAGc/9WGADLxAWyI/s200/sp-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365448562133718450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXns95LGnI/AAAAAAAAAGs/nlB9IycQ0L0/s1600-h/sp-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXns95LGnI/AAAAAAAAAGs/nlB9IycQ0L0/s200/sp-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365449290796440178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXoohJl4sI/AAAAAAAAAG0/oTLEI1DmD6s/s1600-h/sp-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXoohJl4sI/AAAAAAAAAG0/oTLEI1DmD6s/s200/sp-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365450313872827074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXqDm9jStI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ejmluxK8EoY/s1600-h/sp-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXqDm9jStI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ejmluxK8EoY/s200/sp-6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365451878801033938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXqmcS2toI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Otnb66d5ZF0/s1600-h/sp-7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXqmcS2toI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Otnb66d5ZF0/s200/sp-7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365452477233018498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXrH4guraI/AAAAAAAAAHU/55Nhn5ldfUI/s1600-h/sp-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXrH4guraI/AAAAAAAAAHU/55Nhn5ldfUI/s200/sp-8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365453051743088034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXr0Gi_fhI/AAAAAAAAAHc/3U86_kEfNtQ/s1600-h/sp-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXr0Gi_fhI/AAAAAAAAAHc/3U86_kEfNtQ/s200/sp-9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365453811424919058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXr0Gi_fhI/AAAAAAAAAHc/3U86_kEfNtQ/s1600-h/sp-9.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXsub7QL8I/AAAAAAAAAHk/y7qO2e9KInw/s1600-h/sp-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXsub7QL8I/AAAAAAAAAHk/y7qO2e9KInw/s200/sp-10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365454813596233666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXubeJEMSI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_xOa9b2ru40/s1600-h/sp-11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXubeJEMSI/AAAAAAAAAHs/_xOa9b2ru40/s200/sp-11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365456686796779810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXuphC6bQI/AAAAAAAAAH0/5Cskfpkf5_4/s1600-h/sp-12.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXuphC6bQI/AAAAAAAAAH0/5Cskfpkf5_4/s200/sp-12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365456928094448898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXvcuSHH-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/fpcVPCZfJUg/s1600-h/sp-13.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXvcuSHH-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/fpcVPCZfJUg/s200/sp-13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365457807821184994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXppdL8UzI/AAAAAAAAAG8/nWi69qG5A9c/s1600-h/sp-5.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXppdL8UzI/AAAAAAAAAG8/nWi69qG5A9c/s200/sp-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365451429500441394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXv96lk6UI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DTKRxFGhf5U/s1600-h/sp-14.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXv96lk6UI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DTKRxFGhf5U/s200/sp-14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365458378059737410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXwLu3PGmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/wxMJw0msrxA/s1600-h/sp-15.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXwLu3PGmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/wxMJw0msrxA/s200/sp-15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365458615430748770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-2175651314297396412?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/2175651314297396412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/senior-photos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/2175651314297396412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/2175651314297396412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/08/senior-photos.html' title='Senior Photos'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SnXnCjacVbI/AAAAAAAAAGc/9WGADLxAWyI/s72-c/sp-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-3347162998970086684</id><published>2009-07-28T15:36:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T15:53:31.797-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><title type='text'>Summer Cleaning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9U9q3zrMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OCb387bhlqs/s1600-h/GEDC1349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9U9q3zrMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OCb387bhlqs/s200/GEDC1349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363599099678665922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9UlP7ywMI/AAAAAAAAAFc/BR-DNPswdGg/s1600-h/GEDC1351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9UlP7ywMI/AAAAAAAAAFc/BR-DNPswdGg/s200/GEDC1351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363598680130764994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I finally got off my lazy butt yesterday and went through all the clothes in my closet and drawers.  I managed to fill a garbage bag full of clothes that I never wear... And today I started organizing all the junk in my room.  I have too many clothes and not enough places to put them so I took all my junk out of my drawers and organized my closet (which consisted of cleaning out my shoes).  I managed to get rid of a whole garbage bag of shoes too.  And I still have a whole book-shelf full of them.  So the picture on the left is a picture of my room when I was organizing today.  It had been worst.  There   had been no places to walk before, and it still looks bad in that picture.  My closet did look pretty neat though, except for all the clutter and books ontop of my drawer things.  You can see the shelf of shoes on the side :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is what it looked like later.  I piled stuff onto my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9WLYthzCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/kgSAZnBb2-M/s1600-h/GEDC1352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9WLYthzCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/kgSAZnBb2-M/s200/GEDC1352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363600434833509410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9WicWwimI/AAAAAAAAAGU/KfKMC3GNpAg/s1600-h/GEDC1353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9WicWwimI/AAAAAAAAAGU/KfKMC3GNpAg/s200/GEDC1353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363600830948739682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big improvement, but still needs work.  I still need to organize my desk :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, my Dad and Brother and I are going out to min-golf, which I think is a waste of time.  But he promised we would go out to eat afterwards where I have been dying to eat, so I sucked into his plans bescause of that portion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-3347162998970086684?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3347162998970086684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-cleaning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3347162998970086684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3347162998970086684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-cleaning.html' title='Summer Cleaning'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/Sm9U9q3zrMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OCb387bhlqs/s72-c/GEDC1349.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-3933469733438028291</id><published>2009-07-26T13:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T14:11:50.903-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrapbooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haircuts'/><title type='text'>Scrapbooking, Movies, and a Haircut</title><content type='html'>I have been meaning to get on here and blog but I keep getting distracted by movies on HBO and my mom yelling stuff at me that I need to get done.  I finally took the time to make a to do list.  I think the most important on my list is to get my college essay written so my guidance counselors this Fall will not be yelling at me to get it done.  I think I am only going to write one, I am hoping I will write it so it will fit under any "Person in your Life" category.  I do have a very good topic to write about.  I hate how there is word limits though, I could write forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, it has been raining mad here.  Because my internet runs through a dish I cannot get online when it's bad weather, which sucks.  The TV will still work though so that's good.  So I have been getting the best lately out of my "Free HBO for six months" deal.  I have watched so many movies, it's crazy.  But first, I saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/span&gt;, a long time ago.  I thought it was well.  I saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bucket List&lt;/span&gt; today.  Yesterday I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pan's Labyrinth&lt;/span&gt; but had to leave for my cousin's birthday so I'm mad cause' I didn't get to finish.  I also saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Best Friend's Girl&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Step Up 2&lt;/span&gt;.  I re watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Watchmen&lt;/span&gt; with Devin and then saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coraline&lt;/span&gt; which was creepy.  Then I forced Devin to see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Phantom of the Oprah&lt;/span&gt;.  I am sure I saw a ton others but those are the only ones I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I was watching movies I have been scrap booking.  Actually, I have been scrap booking for over a month and only have 8 pages done.  Jeez these things take time.  I will post some pictures maybe next time.  I started reading Hot Six, part of the Stephanie Plum series.  They crack me up so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a haircut too!! Finally!  I was having doubts about my bangs for awhile, wanting to turn them into side bangs but I like them I decided.  And just want to thin them out a bit.  I got layers in the front of my hair too.  The shortest is at my chin.  Now my hair curls a little, it's funny.  I don't have curly hair at all, usually it's stick straight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-3933469733438028291?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3933469733438028291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/scrapbooking-movies-and-haircut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3933469733438028291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/3933469733438028291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/scrapbooking-movies-and-haircut.html' title='Scrapbooking, Movies, and a Haircut'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-6536629435699339542</id><published>2009-07-14T19:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T19:14:21.191-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traveling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaving'/><title type='text'>Just Got Back!! whew.</title><content type='html'>So, I forgot to mention in my last post that I would be leaving on July 8th for my Dance Team.  We made Nationals, so we had to compete.  The competition was 9 and a half hours away.  but we had to make stops so we ended up leaving at 7am and getting there at 7pm.  It sucked, even though my mom did all the driving, I read the directions :P  (I was a pretty good direction reader, if I do say so myself.)  At the competition we got all Gold.  So that's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed there till yesterday.  Then I looked at Gettysburg College which was a little ways away.  I had an interview and personal tour.  I thought it was nice and homey but the dorms sucked. X[  Then we drove for seven hours and got to a hotel in Newport, RI at 10:30pm.  In the morning we visited Salve Regina which was a beautiful campus.  I got a home about an hour ago and started unpacking.  I still have all my clothes to put away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought some sexy bras and panties from VS (not really lol).  And I got a ton of clothes at Rue 21.  mostly t-shirts.  I even bought Devin at Hot Topic a Watchmen shirt, which I am giving him tomorrow.  He is going to be psyched.  (He's such a nerd lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is excited about the new Harry Potter movie coming out at midnight?  I would go tonight but I just got home and have to go to cheering camp on the 17th.  So I am going tomorrow afternoon.  Man I am just booked lately... In case I do not post again I will be in cheering camp till Sunday or Monday (can't remember), but hopefully I will blog before I go! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-6536629435699339542?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/6536629435699339542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-got-back-whew.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/6536629435699339542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/6536629435699339542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-got-back-whew.html' title='Just Got Back!! whew.'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-5824068517440316355</id><published>2009-07-05T16:19:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T16:38:36.131-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Away We Go and some 4th of July!</title><content type='html'>So I finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Golden Compass&lt;/span&gt; by Philip Pullman a few days ago.  I first watched the movie, which I enjoyed very much and decided I would read the book.  The book was excellent, and was quite different from the movie.  I understand a lot more on what the movie was talking about now that I read the book.  I thought the ending was very interesting and am kind of excited to read the other two books in the trilogy, I just have to muster up some money to buy the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.iwatchstuff.com/2009/03/24/away-we-go-poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 197px;" src="http://www.iwatchstuff.com/2009/03/24/away-we-go-poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On July 3rd, I saw &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Away We Go &lt;/span&gt;with Devin at the theater.  I thought it was an excellent movie!  Very funny and also portrayed a really nice sweet story and life lesson.  I think it is probably one of my favorite movies, up there with Juno and Knocked Up. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Devin finds it funny that all my favorite movies are about pregnant girls)!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I thought John Krasinski was really funny, funnier than he is in The Office.  The movie started out really funny, but as it went along it got kinda sad.  I even cried at one part in the movie.  But it was just excellant and I think everyone needs to go see it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 4th was kind of boring for me.  Devin and I went up to my Aunt's camp with my mom.  He and I took a walk and then went kayaking on the lake.  Devin cannot kayak worth crap, :]   He almost whacked my in the head with his paddle like 20 times.  We then went back home and drove out to our local firework display.  We got a great spot right underneath them with a whole other crowd of people, a couple times a firework went to low and you could see a big old flame fall on top of someone that was 50 feet in front of us, but all well :]  I had a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-5824068517440316355?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5824068517440316355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/away-we-go-and-some-4th-of-july.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/5824068517440316355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/5824068517440316355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/07/away-we-go-and-some-4th-of-july.html' title='Away We Go and some 4th of July!'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-7879400117599549537</id><published>2009-06-27T14:24:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T16:55:30.413-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traveling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The Four Reasons Why I Hate Family Reunions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAlyssa%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 5 5 3 3 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif"; 	panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:1627421663 -2147483648 8 0 66047 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;They should be called "The Start of Family Feuds" rather than "Family Reunions."  First, my mother and Aunt Tamara got in a fight before leaving (on who was going to bring down my Grandfather, who poops himself in the car and refuses to wear a grown-up diaper).  Then, because we ended up taking both of my two aunt's cars down and not my mother's, my mother drove with my Aunt Annette and my father drove down with My Aunt Tamara.  All seven cousins and myself were put into one or the other car.  On the way back, my Aunt Annette got in a huge fight with my mother because she told her not to follow my dad on the way back.  The fight got so bad that my aunt pulled over the car and told my mom to get out.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAlyssa%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 5 5 3 3 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif"; 	panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:1627421663 -2147483648 8 0 66047 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;On the way down I was placed in the back with my over 300 pounded grandfather.  They placed a towel on his seat.  Now, I know he is my grandfather and I am not supposed to make fun of him and love him, but I just cannot help it.  He is so helpless and rude!  First of all he lives down the road from me and has known me all seventeen years of my life!  And you would think he would know my name was ALYSSA by now, not MELISSA.  But noooo.  So anyways, he sits in and says, "Melissa, buckle me up."  I tell him it is right where mine is and point to mine.  And he continues to tell me to buckle him up.  So I tell him "My name is not Melissa!  It's Alyssa!" And grab the seatbelt out of his hands and buckle his fat belly in.  The whole two hour ride down to the coast he is shoving his face with food.  And it is the grossest thing I have ever witnessed.  He sits there with his eyes as round as saucers just staring at it as it enters his mouth.  And he MOANS as he chews every single bite.  He ate a WHOLE bag of chips in three handfuls!  When we reach the house he says, "Melissa!  Unbuckle me, I can't find how to get out."  And I say, "AH-LYSS-AH!  And you press the big red button that says PUSH."  Yet, I still end up pushing it for him.  Then he says to my aunt "When the hell am I getting some food?  I get dizzy-wizzy when I don't eat."  And I'm thinking, dizzy-wizzy? Don't eat?  So my aunt gives him ANOTHER banana to which he says, "This is my third banana."  And she tells him not to eat it then.  And he says, "Nope I will, but I am just saying that I get batter service and food at McDonalds."  I wanted to slap him and roll his fat butt right out of the car.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAlyssa%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 5 5 3 3 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif"; 	panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:1627421663 -2147483648 8 0 66047 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;My family who we were going down to visit doe snot want us there in the first place.  They invite us every year at their last day there and they kick us all outside to eat on the porch.  We are pretty much not allowed to go inside.  The whole time we are there I can feel there eyes watching me and just hear them whisper that they just want us to leave.  Yet, my mom is too oblivious to this and puts on her stupid fake happy smile and tells everyone else to stop acting miserable.  No one would go if it was not for her.  It is like my mom has this filter; she cannot read people's expressions and tell when she is not wanted.  The whole time we were there she was telling me to put on shorts and my bathing suit.  I said no every single time and she kept getting mad at me.  Like I am going to go swimming in an ocean that is 30 degrees!  She on the other hand has decided lately to start wearing teen clothes.  I even look older than her now.  She is 44 years old!  And she is wearing this bright orange and purple striped tank top that makes her boobs fall out, and these short little mini shorts from the teen aisle.  On top of that, she is wearing a teen bikini that is RAINBOW.  The last time I wore a bright rainbow suit was when I was eleven.  I realize that she is small and doesn't look her age just yet, but seriously?  Why can't she just wear clothes that are little more for her age?  It's so embarrassing!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CAlyssa%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 5 5 3 3 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} @font-face 	{font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif"; 	panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:1627421663 -2147483648 8 0 66047 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Microsoft Sans Serif";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;I get bombarded by little kids.  I love kids, but I don't like it when they give me a makeover and make me play stupid games.  I would be fine playing normal house with them, but instead one of the little girls who is my cousin took me upstairs to her room with her baby brother where we played her version of "Teenagers"  We spent a half an hour running to random spots in her room and sitting down and then getting up pretending that each spot was a different temperature pool.  It was exhausting, by the time I reached the "pool" and sat down she would be up again running to a different spot.  Then she decided to go into her mothers room and start putting on her mother's lingerie.  Not like I can just rip it off her.  And while we're playing I am describing my prom to her and next thing I know her little brother is looking down her pants and she goes, "Uh oh, he's looking at my private parts."  And as soon as she says that her father &lt;b&gt;opens the door.&lt;/b&gt;  How embarrassing is that?  A little after she decides to give me a "makeover" in which her brother rubs eye shadow all over my cheeks, and she gives me scars all over my face with eyeliner.  Then she colors my bottom lip in brown and the top red...  My mom comes up and says we have to leave and shows me off to everyone as they laugh.  And I don't even get a chance to wipe it off before I leave.  So I looked like a scary girl the whole way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-weight: bold;"&gt;O&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZo01Qt6II/AAAAAAAAACA/q7XQ6U7rTyQ/s1600-h/Image1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 125px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZo01Qt6II/AAAAAAAAACA/q7XQ6U7rTyQ/s200/Image1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352080464036096130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;h, and here are so&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZpBLy655I/AAAAAAAAACI/edr6kADpwxI/s1600-h/Image5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 125px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZpBLy655I/AAAAAAAAACI/edr6kADpwxI/s200/Image5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352080676243564434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;me of the pro&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZpaLcp9rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/jOc_kB8pO8o/s1600-h/Image13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 123px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZpaLcp9rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/jOc_kB8pO8o/s200/Image13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352081105646909106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;m pictures :)  &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/buggab0oxx/PromPhotos?feat=directlink"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/buggab0oxx/PromPhotos?authkey=Gv1sRgCPjgkfS6gcCMqQE&amp;amp;feat=directlink"&gt;All can be viewed here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZ0NZYtxeI/AAAAAAAAACY/dISviSq6IDE/s1600-h/Image8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 124px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZ0NZYtxeI/AAAAAAAAACY/dISviSq6IDE/s200/Image8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352092980678084066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-7879400117599549537?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7879400117599549537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/four-reasons-why-i-hate-family-reunions.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/7879400117599549537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/7879400117599549537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/four-reasons-why-i-hate-family-reunions.html' title='The Four Reasons Why I Hate Family Reunions'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkZo01Qt6II/AAAAAAAAACA/q7XQ6U7rTyQ/s72-c/Image1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-7525943940073630878</id><published>2009-06-24T21:09:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T21:41:09.806-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen</title><content type='html'>Busy day!  I watched some old episodes of NCIS when I woke up, (love that show!)  My boyfriend Devin came over in the afternoon, and we left to go see the new &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Transformers&lt;/span&gt; movie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was just as well done as the first movie. It seemed like there was more action in this one, though. Amazing special effects, and the plot was decent too. It seemed at times that the movie was trying too hard to be funny, like the mother's lines were all really stupid 'cause of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/2788540172_6b9b72bf94.jpg%20"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 161px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/2788540172_6b9b72bf94.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyways, I found this funny picture of Megan Fox on set for this scene I kept laughing at because I kept thinking her boobs were going to pop out of her shirt.  She kept running and jumping; I swear it must have popped out a few times at least when they were making the movie. And in the picture, as I am sure you can see she's holding up her boobs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all well :P  All together, it was a pretty amazing movie. Devin is obsessed with Transformers, comic books, action figures, etc. so it is pretty funny to go to one of these movies with him and see him act like a total nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movie we went to Walmart, where I picked up some Prom pictures I had ordered.  And then I had to go to dance team practice.  Nationals are coming up in a few weeks!  Eek!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-7525943940073630878?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7525943940073630878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/transformers-revenge-of-fallen.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/7525943940073630878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/7525943940073630878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/transformers-revenge-of-fallen.html' title='Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/2788540172_6b9b72bf94_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6979719723840217015.post-2771309998980460637</id><published>2009-06-23T18:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T18:19:24.280-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other'/><title type='text'>yay! =]</title><content type='html'>Well, I finally got a blog up.  I have been dying to have one since forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created the layout in an hour or so.  It came out kind of bad with the pixels when I uploaded it onto here, but it is fine for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking for some affies or whatnot.  Whatever you choose to call it.  I will comment on your blogs and hopefully get to know you well.  So you can just let me know by commenting that would be great :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No official blog for today on my oh so exciting life.  I will make one tomorrow though.  Thank you for reading!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6979719723840217015-2771309998980460637?l=buggab0oxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/feeds/2771309998980460637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/yay.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/2771309998980460637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6979719723840217015/posts/default/2771309998980460637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buggab0oxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/yay.html' title='yay! =]'/><author><name>Alyssa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03725080821106250479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ovRbsPeIGyc/SkFhLDr3ApI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qiEX8AqZ-VI/S220/Image10.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
