<?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-18912436</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:54:19.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>all the world's a lie ...</title><subtitle type='html'>... and all the men and women merely liars.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>107</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-116468540629013480</id><published>2006-11-27T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T22:43:26.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>give thanks.</title><content type='html'>so, since i was busier spending time with the fam over thanksgiving break, i missed making my thanksgiving list of things i am thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first and foremost - i am thankful for my family.&lt;br /&gt;i have two of the most loving and supportive parents ever. they've helped me become the person i am, and are still shaping the person i will become.&lt;br /&gt;my brother is one of my biggest inspirations. he's my hero, and i really look up to him. he has a beautiful, wonderful wife, and i love her dearly. she's been such a friend to me, and i don't just think of her as 'my brother's wife.' she is my sister. and their baby ... she is the most beautiful little girl. she is healthy and doing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am thankful for my personal well-being.&lt;br /&gt;i am healthy. i have a roof over my head and clothes on my back. i have parents financially and spiritually supporting me 100% so that i can further my education. each day, i realize how lucky i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am thankful for cory.&lt;br /&gt;he loves me unconditially, no matter what. he's everything i could've wanted, and every day i find out new things that make me love him more. he's my best friend, and i don't know what i'd do without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am thankful for my friends.&lt;br /&gt;yanno, i don't really have many. and that's okay. i'd rather have a few good friends than lots of acquaintances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am thankful for this life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-116468540629013480?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/116468540629013480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=116468540629013480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116468540629013480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116468540629013480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/11/give-thanks.html' title='give thanks.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-116388015283839651</id><published>2006-11-18T14:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T15:02:32.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>weird.</title><content type='html'>you are so fucking weird. right now, you're bouncing up and down and rocking back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are you kidding me?&lt;br /&gt;are you freakin autistic??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever since you came back to the room all i can hear is &lt;em&gt;CRUNCH SLURP CHEW &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why did i agree to this? when cory isn't here to keep me sane, i seriously want to just scream and walk out. UGH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-116388015283839651?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/116388015283839651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=116388015283839651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116388015283839651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116388015283839651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/11/weird.html' title='weird.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-116303075500121211</id><published>2006-11-08T18:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T19:05:55.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>today</title><content type='html'>so today was redonk. total rollercoaster and it sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a kick-ass audition today. i rocked the hell outta that thing, and i feel really confident that i'm going to get a role. just gotta keep those fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my building had a little "harvest dinner" thingie tonight which was basically your standard thanksgiving dinner. i go in there planning to get mine to go, but i see one of my friends, and i decided to eat with them. the damn place was so crowded that i lost my friend, but i had already gotten my dinner on a plate and tray and everything. an there was no one else for me to sit with so i sat alone. made me &lt;em&gt;miserable &lt;/em&gt;sitting there thinking about how thanksgiving is about family and how i was sitting there by myself, awkwardly alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cant wait until tomorrow so i can be with my family and cory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-116303075500121211?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/116303075500121211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=116303075500121211' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116303075500121211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116303075500121211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/11/today.html' title='today'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-116191976270212403</id><published>2006-10-26T23:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T23:29:22.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate weird al.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope he dies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-116191976270212403?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/116191976270212403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=116191976270212403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116191976270212403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116191976270212403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-hate-weird-al.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-116015019428450048</id><published>2006-10-06T11:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T11:56:34.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>happy catmas!</title><content type='html'>so ... today is catmas. what is catmas, you ask? catmas is celebrated on the first friday in october. it is celebrated by bloggers posting pictures of their favorite kitties on their blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not making this up, i swear. see? &lt;a href="http://www.catmas.com/"&gt;http://www.catmas.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, in the spirit of the season, here you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/stan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/200/stan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/tucker.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/200/tucker.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/Picture%20041.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/200/Picture%20041.0.jpg" 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/18912436-116015019428450048?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/116015019428450048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=116015019428450048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116015019428450048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/116015019428450048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-catmas.html' title='happy catmas!'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115982130616855646</id><published>2006-10-02T16:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T16:35:06.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss piper :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/piperk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/200/piperk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so i really really miss piper. i cant wait to come home this weekend and be able to hold her again. im super excited that i have monday and tuesday off of school so i can maybe babysit a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, by the way, here she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO CUTE!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115982130616855646?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115982130616855646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115982130616855646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115982130616855646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115982130616855646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-miss-piper.html' title='i miss piper :('/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115948837376348923</id><published>2006-09-28T19:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T20:06:13.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hooray im an auntie!</title><content type='html'>YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a neice! piper diane was born on the 26th at 7:40-something. she's around seven pounds i think. yeah, communication hasnt been so good with the details lol. i went home last night to visit everyone at the hospital. i cant believe how small she is. i held her for what seemed like the longest time. i love her little hands and fingernails and feet and toes and everything else. she's perfect. im way excited that im gonna be her aunt. i mean, its a big responsiblity. but im totally gonna be that sweet-ass aunt who gives you random shit and lets you get away with way too much. hell yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im glad you called; its been a really long time since we've talked. and in a weird way, it was like we never stopped. i had to push myself back into reality and remember, 'oh yeah, this isn't going to be an hour-long conversation like it used to be.' so really like old times. kinda cool though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things are better here, and im starting to be not as sick. i bought some airborne to take while im in the room. megan gets way too sick way too damn often. and when she gets sick its like she loses all common sense. when you're sick, take care of it. dont put more stress on your body then what is already there. im not your mother, dont make me feel like its my responsibility to make you healthy. because its not. just try to be smart about everything, like if you're sick and tired and achy, dont stay out until one or two in the fucking morning and then be dragging the next day. just dont be retarded about it, and maybe your illness wont last a freakin year. geez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry, i needed to get that rant out. whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, btw, this post is coming straight from the computer lab because the power cable to my laptop decided to take a shit. niiiiice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115948837376348923?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115948837376348923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115948837376348923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115948837376348923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115948837376348923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/hooray-im-auntie.html' title='hooray im an auntie!'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115924756773743606</id><published>2006-09-26T01:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T01:12:47.753-04:00</updated><title type='text'>happy.</title><content type='html'>so, i've been really happy lately. like, crazy happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because im finally part of a real organization on campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because i fed my mad craving for a slim jim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because tomorrow, i will be an aunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because i eat too much sugar and im always on that high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because i witnessed my first drunken barfight this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its because when im sick and continue to sing, my voice gets tired and i sound like a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, im gonna go with the man-voice. yay man-voice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, pps: cory asked if he could go to homecoming and prom with this chick that he semi-dated last year ... uhm, NO. am i wrong for really getting bugged by this? i mean, seriously, dubya-tee-fuck!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115924756773743606?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115924756773743606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115924756773743606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115924756773743606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115924756773743606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/happy.html' title='happy.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115894409235235665</id><published>2006-09-22T12:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T12:54:52.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so much to catch up on!</title><content type='html'>so i know its been like twenty years since my last post, but i've been really busy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first thing's first - i am now a member in training for sigma alpha iota - gamma omicron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLY FREAKIN CRAP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; thought i would be in a sorority. but at the beginning of this year, i realized that i wanted something else from my college experience. i wanted to feel like i was part of a group, and i ultimately wanted to be part of the music sorority. the girls in there are so cool and fun and i wanted to be part of it! i pretty much sat in my room being antisocial last year. i made few friends, and the majority of those friends aren't at bg anymore (on a side note, blaine and ryan jones are both coming back in the spring. oh-em-gee i cant wait!). and the girls in SAI, i wanted to be friends with them. i wanted to hang out with them. i wanted to party with them. but you know me; im so damn shy all the time and people just take that as being snotty or whatever. it was time for that to change. last night, i went though the rose tea, which was basically a ceremony welcoming the new rushes. it was amazing. we had to keep our eyes closed for a while, and even while my eyes were still shut i could feel myself starting to tear up. i just kept thinking about how &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; i'm part of something. &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; im surrounded by people who care about me and want to get to know me. our big sisters were standing beside us and when i got to open my eyes, i just started crying and hugged my big. it was seriously the happiest moment i've had in a really long time. it meant so much to me that the girls were welcoming me into their group. no one had ever really done that before. i'd always been kind of on my own. and the fact that i have all these new sisters made me pretty emotional. im so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and my big is amazing. she cracks me up all the time. and she bought me breadsticks at polleyeyes. LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything with my music is going a lot better. i got over whatever was holding my voice back physically, and im pumped to keep improving. i had a lesson earlier today and it went really well. things are just starting to click, and im really improving on techniques that we've been working on since i got here. i still dont know what i want to do as far as my career, but for now i'm content with singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the opera is going well, and im really glad that its allowing me to get closer to some girls that i've wanted to be friends with. again with the shyness thing. but this has really given me a great chance to get to know them better and spend buku time with them. we're all covers (or understudies, whatever), which means that we get to sit for the entire rehearsal and watch. oh, and take notes. but no singing! or blocking! psh. laaame. but its fun to sit and laugh when people on stage are being dumb and silly. and gossip. lots and lots of gossip. hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cory and i are wonderful. he's making a habit out of coming up on wednesdays after he gets off of work. mind you, he doesn't get here until 1:30-ish and im usually in bed way before then. so that sucks because for the next few days im really tired. its worth it though. i get to missing him so much that it just aches. i hate the fact that i cant see him everyday, but at least we get to call each other daily. its really hard to be away from him, but at the same time i think its a good thing for me. being apart from him makes me realize how mad in love i am. and the fact that i dont find other guys attractive anymore has to say something too. if it isnt cory, then i dont want it. and dammit, i hope i get a promise ring by christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jason and megan are about to have their baby. megan went to the hospital earlier this week, but the doctors sent her home because she isnt ready enough. lol that sounded retarded but oh well. i hope she has it this weekend, or at least soon. i know she's really ready to have the baby, and i cant wait to be an aunt. i think my feelings of wanting to have babies of my own will subside once piper gets here. but i still wanna have babies. really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so thats whats been going on in my life lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115894409235235665?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115894409235235665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115894409235235665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115894409235235665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115894409235235665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/so-much-to-catch-up-on.html' title='so much to catch up on!'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115855229207650137</id><published>2006-09-18T00:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T00:04:52.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hooray!</title><content type='html'>so i decided that having a speedway card together is having joint custody over a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one that gives free drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooh and speedway has the pumpkin spice cappucino now. hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115855229207650137?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115855229207650137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115855229207650137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115855229207650137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115855229207650137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/hooray.html' title='hooray!'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115811933696289772</id><published>2006-09-12T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T23:48:56.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i remember ... a third reason</title><content type='html'>so ... its pretty awful when this is the third post that serves as a memoriam to someone who has passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just found out today that a boy from my high school died. he was only thirteen; an eighth grader. his whole life ahead of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didnt really know him. i kind of knew his brother. they both rode my bus. i can see his little face in my mind - he was probably only seven or eight then. but i still remember him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when it rains, it pours ... right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115811933696289772?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115811933696289772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115811933696289772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115811933696289772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115811933696289772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-remember-third-reason.html' title='i remember ... a third reason'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115803162538953518</id><published>2006-09-11T23:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T23:27:05.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i remember ... for another reason</title><content type='html'>okay so today has been hard for me. first, while observing a moment of silence in theory, and later while singing moses hogan's "hear my prayer" in chorale, i cried. and not because im some super-patriotic american. yes, i feel deep sorrow for those that we lost, and i still get chills when i really think about what happened five years ago, but that's not why i cried. i never really got a change to grieve for the thousands that died, and for the tragedy that struck our nation. rather, i grieve for what happened on september 12, 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on that day, a close friend of mine decided to end his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his name was doug straw, and although i only got to see him in person just once, he still touched my heart. even now, it hurts to think about all of it. some people dont really understand how i could've felt so close to him if i only got to meet him once. doug was my mentor. when i was a budding artist at the age of thirteen, my dad started to tell me about one of his co-workers. he would tell me stories upon stories of doug, and how amazing he was. doug and my dad were very good friends, and my dad knew about how doug really loved art; especially fantasy art. i &lt;em&gt;loved&lt;/em&gt; fantasy art. my dad then suggested that i show doug some of my stuff. it was just crappy little watercolors and sketches. i looked back on some of the drawings a little bit ago, and they're pretty bad ... cute, but still very juvenille. doug really looked over them and critiqued my sketches like they were masterpeices. i still remember, when i got my sketchbook back, there was a note tucked inside. doug had wrote a little letter to me, telling me that he liked what he saw and to keep up with it. "very peaceful," i remember him saying. after that, doug gave peices to my dad to bring home and show me, and fantasy art books for me to look at and study. one of the drawings that was inspired from one of the books was a hauntingly beautiful figure standing upright with the top of her body slumped over and her hands tangled up in her hair. i titled it &lt;em&gt;greif.&lt;/em&gt; what an awful bit of foreshadowing. i remember so much about the day i found out about doug. i was in the basement, playing some video game, and my dad came downstairs and i knew something was wrong from how he was acting. he could barely spit the words out before he burst into tears. i have only seen my dad cry on two occasions - when his father died, and when doug killed himself. my dad held me and i held my dad and we sobbed for what seemed like hours. i couldnt believe it. my dad later told me that doug had planned it out to most minute detail. he had paid off his credit cards and bills and had left his apartment clean. he even went as far as to organize everything and lay it out on his bed. this wasn't spontaneous, it was meticulously planned. and as if my dad didnt have enough guilt to deal with, doug's family blamed my dad because he didn't help doug or stop him. it wasn't that he &lt;em&gt;didn't &lt;/em&gt;help ... he just &lt;em&gt;couldn't &lt;/em&gt;help. his family requested that my dad not come to the funeral. i still haven't been able to visit the cemetary, and i think my dad has only been there once. i keep a picture of doug and my dad in a frame in my room. i keep the letter doug wrote in a little box in my closet. im still not through mourning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as many negative things came from doug's suicide, there has always been one positive. if anything has really really kept me from killing myself, it's that. i dont think i could ever put the people that i love through that, especially my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, i remember those who were lost to america. and tomorrow, i remember the one who was lost to depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you doug, and im sorry that i couldn't help you.&lt;br /&gt;thank you for helping me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115803162538953518?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115803162538953518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115803162538953518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115803162538953518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115803162538953518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-remember-for-another-reason.html' title='i remember ... for another reason'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115800937076047853</id><published>2006-09-11T17:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T17:26:55.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i remember.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/129428bport.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 136px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px" height="171" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/320/129428bport.jpg" width="136" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;On this hallowed day, we often stop to remember many people who have given their lives. Some have touched us deeply; others we have never met. But all are cared for, all are missed, and all will surely be remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Adam J. Lewis will be no exception.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;He was a brother, a son, a father, a husband, and a friend. During his 36 years, Adam lived a full life and touched many others. He was a dedicated father of four, and a wonderful husband to his wife, Patti. He was a hard-working colleague, and a coach to handicapped children. He devoted himself to his family, his friends, and the people he worked with. He was loyal and committed, and at the same time, humble. If he would’ve had to choose, he would’ve picked his family and friends over all of the money and possessions in the world. He didn’t care much for wealth or belongings; all he needed were the people in his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many, Adam was a source of light. Even in his passing, his light still shines and will continue to shine long into the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“BROTHER OF MINE, THERE WAS SO LITTLE TIME”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;by Pamela Passaretta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;That September morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;I will never forget &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;My little brother Adam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Was stuck in a pit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;He was in the second tower&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Figuring some stocks out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Watching people fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Hearing people shout&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Helping people get out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;He thought that was all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;But little did he know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;The towers would come down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;And all that would remain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Would be his soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Brother of mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;There was so little time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;But we did shine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Kind you were and on the spur&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;You gave to me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;What I can’t forget &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;The joy to be me – free &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Without regret! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;That September morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Was a cold blow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;My brother Adam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Became a real hero&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;He called his wife and children&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Talked to his mom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Saying “I Love You” everything's OK&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Not to worry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;That this was just a crazy day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Brother of mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;There was so little time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;But we did shine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Kind you were and on the spur &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;You gave to me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;What I can’t forget &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;The joy to be me – free&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Without regret! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;That September morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;I watched it all on CNN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;My little brother Adam &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Helping others &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;Till the end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dcroe.com/2996/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.dcroe.com/images/2996mini.jpg" width="145" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adam J. Lewis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;World Trade Center&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/18912436-115800937076047853?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115800937076047853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115800937076047853' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115800937076047853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115800937076047853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-remember_11.html' title='i remember.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115764092597524246</id><published>2006-09-07T10:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T10:55:25.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>better.</title><content type='html'>so ... cory came to stay with me last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it helped more than anything and although it hurt like hell to see him leave, i still feel tons better. i swear sometimes he's the only thing that keeps me going. i can face today a little bit more assured that everything will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant wait until tomorrow so i can see him again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115764092597524246?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115764092597524246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115764092597524246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115764092597524246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115764092597524246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/better.html' title='better.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115759980066248552</id><published>2006-09-06T20:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T10:50:22.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so so so confused.</title><content type='html'>okay so basically i hate my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i shouldnt say i hate &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; of my life. just my life here. i hate it here. i feel so detatched from everything. i just dont care anymore. all of this music bullshit means nothing to me. sadly enough, the only thing that's keeping me going anymore is my pride and how much i would hate for anyone else to see me break down and just quit. but honestly, thats what i want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i quit. i quit at life. fuck it all, fuck this school, fuck this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my lowest points in my entire life have been when i'm at bowling green. i tried to blame it on the people, but its really just being here. it makes me want to give up and die. i get so frustrated with everything knowing that i suck at pretty much everything. i would love to go back to podunk van wert and work in a factory for the rest of my life. it would be so much easier. at least i was good at that. and i'd be home. with my parents, with my kitties, with my cory. i hate being away from all the things in life that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant stay here. its killing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115759980066248552?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115759980066248552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115759980066248552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115759980066248552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115759980066248552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/so-so-so-confused.html' title='so so so confused.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115758177109112955</id><published>2006-09-06T18:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T18:29:31.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>unimportant.</title><content type='html'>i just wanted to know if you were trying to be a dick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you're right ... you &lt;em&gt;dont&lt;/em&gt; matter. but you, of all people should know how much i care about what people think of me and what they're saying about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, this is what i was curious about -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny part about this post is that to whom its intended won't matter one bit, but to others it might be bad.  SOrry ahead of time but I can't use that person's name.  If he/she finds this comment I hope it makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess it didnt apply to me. and if you want to say things to me or about me, just say my freakin name. i dont care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remember, you &lt;em&gt;dont &lt;/em&gt;matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115758177109112955?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115758177109112955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115758177109112955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115758177109112955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115758177109112955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/unimportant.html' title='unimportant.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115756139634853852</id><published>2006-09-06T12:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T12:49:56.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>quit.</title><content type='html'>i wish you'd stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or at least be specific, so i can know if i should be hurt or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115756139634853852?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115756139634853852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115756139634853852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115756139634853852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115756139634853852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/quit.html' title='quit.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115741400847434091</id><published>2006-09-04T19:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T19:53:28.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hm.</title><content type='html'>i hope im not the one who made you feel like crying. and if i was, i hope it was a good cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if not, what did i do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115741400847434091?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115741400847434091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115741400847434091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115741400847434091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115741400847434091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/hm.html' title='hm.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115711502371703912</id><published>2006-09-01T08:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T08:52:22.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i remember.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="button"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dcroe.com/2996/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.dcroe.com/images/2996mini.jpg" width="145" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adam J. Lewis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;World Trade Center&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/18912436-115711502371703912?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115711502371703912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115711502371703912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115711502371703912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115711502371703912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-remember.html' title='i remember.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115711304161950484</id><published>2006-09-01T08:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T08:17:21.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my apologies.</title><content type='html'>after listening to some floyd this morning as i was getting ready, i realized that i really dont hate you. i said some things to let go of some pent up hostility, and although i regret saying what i did, its out and i cant take it back. that being said, i still think i needed that little rant. it allowed me to let go of some feelings that i had been holding inside, and i felt loads better afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're a good guy; i know that. you're just not the guy for me, and that's fine. now, i think that if i was around to see you fall, i'd probably give you my hand. i guess i wanted to see you crash and burn because it really bothers me that you dont need me, and that there was never really a greiving period for you. you bounced right back. you know how i get jealous and envious so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont want you to think that im asking for things to be the way they were. right now, in my life, i've never been happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe someday i'll want to chill or something. we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115711304161950484?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115711304161950484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115711304161950484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115711304161950484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115711304161950484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-apologies.html' title='my apologies.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115673173904924550</id><published>2006-08-27T22:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T22:22:19.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>speedway</title><content type='html'>i think its funny that i still use your speedway rewards card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry for taking your free drink. dont worry though, i'll use it for a blue slushie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115673173904924550?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115673173904924550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115673173904924550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115673173904924550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115673173904924550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/speedway.html' title='speedway'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115648206251537279</id><published>2006-08-25T01:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T01:01:02.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome.</title><content type='html'>you're welcome. im really glad you like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115648206251537279?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115648206251537279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115648206251537279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115648206251537279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115648206251537279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/welcome.html' title='welcome.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115648192473241513</id><published>2006-08-25T00:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T00:58:44.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>longing.</title><content type='html'>i miss cory so so so so much. i hate how we have to spend so much time apart. he means so much to me, and its killing me to be away from him. im not whole; my soul aches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it hurts so much, but it just affirms the feelings i have for him.  i love him with all of my heart, and i cant live without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saturday cant come soon enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115648192473241513?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115648192473241513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115648192473241513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115648192473241513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115648192473241513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/longing.html' title='longing.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115637052171037786</id><published>2006-08-23T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T18:02:01.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I MADE COLLEGIATE CHORALE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115637052171037786?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115637052171037786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115637052171037786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115637052171037786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115637052171037786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-made-collegiate-chorale.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115635320826193414</id><published>2006-08-23T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T13:15:08.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>angry.</title><content type='html'>so so irritated right now. i know i should stop trying to snoop in on his life, i know i should stop reading his stupid xanga, i know i should just forget all about him. but i cant. its not like what you're thinking, im sure. i dont want to include myself in his life ever ever again. im just nosy. and i want to see him fall flat on his face so that i can kick him when he's down. all this pent up rage isn't doing me any good, but i cant stop it. i really think that if i were to see him anytime soon, i would have to curl my hands up into tight little fists; so tight that my nails punctured the soft flesh of my palms. not to hit him with, but to restrain myself from laying blow after blow onto his swollen face. i cant stand him. i cant stand the idea of him. he makes me sick. if nothing else, i hoped that our relationship would be, at least for him, a learning experience. maybe to treat people better, to listen to others when they're genuinely trying to help, and realize that those people aren't just trying to ruin your fun. you didnt learn anything. even in losing us, you learned nothing. you're just going to be making the same mistakes forever, and eventually, you're going to lose all the people that you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can only hope i get to see you fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115635320826193414?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115635320826193414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115635320826193414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115635320826193414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115635320826193414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/angry.html' title='angry.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115624752280399126</id><published>2006-08-22T07:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T07:52:02.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i dont know what i ever saw in you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115624752280399126?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115624752280399126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115624752280399126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115624752280399126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115624752280399126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-dont-know-what-i-ever-saw-in-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115620986157983551</id><published>2006-08-21T21:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T21:24:21.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sad.</title><content type='html'>i miss my kitties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really really bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115620986157983551?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115620986157983551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115620986157983551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115620986157983551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115620986157983551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/sad.html' title='sad.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115612598834609921</id><published>2006-08-20T21:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T22:06:28.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hurray.</title><content type='html'>so im finally at bg. omg i missed it so damn much. sucky that most of my friends transferred. i lost tyler, chris, ryan, and today i find out blaine left too. dammit. but its okay because i have the best roommate in the world!!! hip hip hoorah. moving in went really smoothly, thank goodness. my parents helped, and it was definitley appreciated. mom n dad had a little tiff and had to go pout about it, but that got resolved pretty quickly. we were supposed to get a futon today, but my dad didnt think that it would fit in our room. &lt;em&gt;sigh.&lt;/em&gt; it'll fit, and i guess i'll have to wait a while before we get it. megan and i didnt really communicate well about the appliances in the room, but its not really that big of a deal. so now we have two fridges and no tv. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im with cory right now, and i still cant believe how amazing he is. looking up over the moniter of my laptop, i can see him and it just makes me smile. im so so so so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - got my period yesterday, so im not pregnant with your kid. good thing too; if i thought it was yours, i would've had an abortion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pps - what did we have planned this weekend? i cant remember, so it couldnt have been that important. oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115612598834609921?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115612598834609921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115612598834609921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115612598834609921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115612598834609921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/hurray.html' title='hurray.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115577777920477761</id><published>2006-08-16T21:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T21:22:59.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>love.</title><content type='html'>i am the luckiest girl alive. im so in love with cory, and each and every day he amazes me. i've been brought to tears so many times today because of how much he loves me. i think he's the greatest ever, and he feels the same about me. and with everything lately, i cant believe how true he's been, and how he's going to stand by me no matter what. i want to commit to him. honestly commit. i dont want to be with anyone else. no one else appeals to me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after we split and i was busy fucking everything up, he waited a year and a half for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'll have to make it up ... i'll give him the rest of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115577777920477761?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115577777920477761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115577777920477761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115577777920477761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115577777920477761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/love.html' title='love.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115569175861454343</id><published>2006-08-15T21:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T21:29:43.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>scared.</title><content type='html'>okay so im super worried right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not gonna put in on here, but if friends want to know, please call me. i need all the support i can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115569175861454343?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115569175861454343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115569175861454343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115569175861454343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115569175861454343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/scared.html' title='scared.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115560125942049926</id><published>2006-08-14T19:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T20:20:59.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>scary?</title><content type='html'>so, cory and i have been renting scary movies lately. last night, we watched &lt;em&gt;final destination 3&lt;/em&gt; and earlier this weekend we watched &lt;em&gt;hostel&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;hostel &lt;/em&gt;was retarded. i mean, it was kind of creepy because stuff like that could happen, and im a fan of quentin tarantino, but as far as gore factor, it sucked. the way you hyped it up, i thought it would be super-disgusting and probably make me wanna puke. that stuff was like the softest of softcore gore. coolest thing was when the chainsaw sliced that guy's leg. that was about it. that movie wasnt scary, i just think you're a wuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wanna see some gory movies to make you pull your knees up to your chest and want to hide your face? try &lt;em&gt;dawn of the dead &lt;/em&gt;(2004), &lt;em&gt;the hills have eyes&lt;/em&gt; (2006), or &lt;em&gt;the descent. &lt;/em&gt;i dont think you could get through 20 minutes of &lt;em&gt;dawn of the dead&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;final destination&lt;/em&gt; was fun. i've liked all of the three movies, and i hope they keep going. its a cool idea. we watched the black guy getting killed frame-by-frame. it was soooo badly cgi-ed and cory and i just started laughing. he hasnt seen the first two, so i think we're gonna have to rent those and just sit down and watch em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im really ready to come back to bg. its gonna suck not being able to see cory on a daily basis, but we havent been able to see each other much during the week anyways. since he works second and i worked first, we could only talk during our lunch breaks. so on a plus side, we'll be able to call each other more often. i'll really miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 days and counting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115560125942049926?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115560125942049926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115560125942049926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115560125942049926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115560125942049926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/scary.html' title='scary?'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115554177176825017</id><published>2006-08-14T03:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T03:49:31.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hey jealousy.</title><content type='html'>great day today, although it started out way too early. i went to church this morning, and afterwards i dont think i went for the right reasons. i went, number one, because mom said i had to. i also went because i havent been to church a whole lot this summer, and i missed everyone. and for the music, its my favorite part. i never really connect with the message. i dunno if its our pastor or what, but it never really moves me. anywhere else, i get a lot better feeling after the message. oh well, such is life i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i took a massive super long nap and here i am, still up at 3:30. i guess i took a little nap around 1:30-ish though ... i was at cory's and got a little tired. he took me to squirty worm in lima. i'd never been there before and i always thought it looked kind of dorky. well, it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; dorky, and we're dorks. i enjoyed it a lot more than he did, but i think thats because it was my first time there. we played mini golf (i won), raced go-karts (i won) and then went inside and played chuckie-cheese type games. i dunno if he let me win or not; he said that he didnt. but he also knows how much i love to win, so either way it was sweet. afterwards, we went and had dinner at fazoli's and that kind of bummed me out. not that i hate italian or anything, its just that cory has a lot of attractive friends. a lot of attractive &lt;em&gt;female &lt;/em&gt;friends. and i got jealous. i had just got done telling him how im making a lot of lifestyle changes so that we'll work out better, and then he goes into stories about past girls and how they were all hot and blah blah blah. then one of the frickin girls shows up at fazoli's with two of her little friends. and they &lt;em&gt;were &lt;/em&gt;really pretty. mainly, they were skinny, didnt have frizzy hair, and had clear skin. &lt;em&gt;sigh&lt;/em&gt;. and the girls, just being polite, said hello. and i felt like crap. i really dont understand why he's with me when he could have something better. he tells me im the best and that im all that he wants, so ... i guess its just something that i'll have to live with. its starting to bother me less, but it made me really sad tonight. i think im just pms-ing though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and as a retort, straight from wikipedia ... A common cause of UTI is an increase in sexual activity, such as vigorous sexual intercourse with a new partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's nothing wrong with him or i, we just fuck like bunnies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115554177176825017?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115554177176825017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115554177176825017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115554177176825017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115554177176825017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/hey-jealousy.html' title='hey jealousy.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115544474391401605</id><published>2006-08-13T00:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T00:52:57.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bitch.</title><content type='html'>okay sorry about me being an asshole ... it really sunk in that im not part of your life anymore, and that it doesnt really bother you, so i got defensive. you deserve way better than me, and im sorry if i kept you from finding her sooner. i really am glad that you have someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i was wrong, but im a bitch, what can i say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, today was pretty much amazing. first caverns, then the rock garden, then the neil armstrong museum. pictures on facebook to follow. soon, i hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we had so so so much fun today. i love how everything went totally perfect and nothing went wrong at all. the weather was gorgeous, we went to everywhere we wanted to, and everyone got along for the whole day, even my parents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ohio caverns were really neat. not as exciting as i had hoped, but it was still tons of fun. at one point when we were pretty deep in the cavern, they shut the lights off just to show how dark it really was. that was awesome, and i was kind of expecting one of those creepy crawler things from &lt;em&gt;the descent&lt;/em&gt; to pop out. there were all of these little crevasses where i wanted to shimmy into. ah well, such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rock garden was so neat, and i cant believe my parents loved it as much as they did. cory had taken me there twice before, and it was always super cool. i took tons of pics, so they'll all be on facebook. the guy who made it is seriously a genius and if you're ever in the area, let me know and we'll go chill there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neil armstrong museum was kind of .... eh. we had 40 min to go through everything and we still left before the place closed. i mean, yay neil armstrong and great astronautics but it just isnt my thing. there was this one uber trippy room filled with mirrors and tiny blinking lights. supposed to mimic the void of space or some shit, i dunno. but i'd go back just to sit in that room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, that was my day. hoo-rah. this weekend sucked sexually cuz i cant do anything. we got a little rough and i kind of injured my vag. didnt hurt at all, just got blood everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tmi, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115544474391401605?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115544474391401605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115544474391401605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115544474391401605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115544474391401605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/bitch.html' title='bitch.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115532672149681522</id><published>2006-08-11T15:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T16:05:21.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>haha.</title><content type='html'>so i just finished my last day at eaton. that means only a week more until im back in bg!!! soooo excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one thing im &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;gonna do when i get back is call julio. this shit is retarded, and i've moved on. so yes, it was cory. we're together and i couldnt be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. his dick is waaaay bigger than yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115532672149681522?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115532672149681522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115532672149681522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115532672149681522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115532672149681522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/haha.html' title='haha.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115518011109997295</id><published>2006-08-09T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T23:21:51.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'>im like a squid with no ocean.</title><content type='html'>project runway woes!! brad-lay got the boot ... ohhh he was so much fun. &lt;em&gt;sigh. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm rooting for michael and laura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jeffrey is an ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news ... friday is my last day at work hurrah! im really really gonna miss everyone. im making cupcakes for everyone. its really been a great summer, and im honestly a little sad to leave. i've already asked if i can come back during christmas break and work for a week or so. i really feel like i've accomplished something big over this summer. im really proud of how i've stepped up and been responsible for everything. at the same time, i cant wait to go back to college and throw all of my responsibilities out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're taking a road trip this weekend. and by we, i mean my parents, cory, and i. cory and i went to see &lt;em&gt;the descent &lt;/em&gt;last weekend, so now we're going to the ohio caverns. im super super excited. it'll be a great way to end the summer too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eleven days and counting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115518011109997295?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115518011109997295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115518011109997295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115518011109997295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115518011109997295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/im-like-squid-with-no-ocean.html' title='im like a squid with no ocean.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115476973605443669</id><published>2006-08-05T05:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T05:22:16.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>24.</title><content type='html'>so ... for the first time ever i've been up for 24 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hells yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115476973605443669?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115476973605443669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115476973605443669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115476973605443669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115476973605443669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/24.html' title='24.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115471486347544398</id><published>2006-08-04T14:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T14:07:43.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>okay.</title><content type='html'>if anyone cares, i went to the doctor yesterday. it was just little, no biggie. i got some antibiotics and im already noticing an difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay for clear pee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115471486347544398?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115471486347544398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115471486347544398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115471486347544398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115471486347544398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/okay.html' title='okay.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115457027572546840</id><published>2006-08-02T21:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:57:55.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>worried.</title><content type='html'>so, i finally called my doctor today. i've been wanting to make an appointment for a while now, but i kept putting it off. something a little more urget came up today, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been pissing blood all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know its probably just a uti or something easily fixed, but im still really nervous. i mean, its never happened before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note, work started out really awful today. i started out the day by getting moved to a different cell that i'd never been in before. the kind of work being done there was more of the 'guy work.' a lot bigger and heavier stuff than what im used to. when i went to my usual cell to say hey, there's another temp working in my spot. stuff just got to me more than usual, and i ended up crying again. my supervisor pulled me aside and talked to me for a little bit, and told me that he thinks of me as one of his full-time workers, and that he appreciates the hard work i put in, and that he's already asked for me to be hired again next summer. so that made me feel a lot better. then once i got back to my cell, another one of the guys, jeff, pulled me out and talked to me for a little bit. he told me a lot of the same stuff, and that the reason i had been moved was so that i could learn how to do different jobs. the reason the other guy got moved into my cell was because he probably isn't gonna be coming back next summer, and they were trying to give him a chance to redeem himself. that made me feel &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;much better. its nice to know that people at work notice that i bust my balls every single day, and that i dont stand around and screw off like a lot of the other temps do. everyone is so nice there, and it suprised me the number of people that wanted to make sure i was okay after they saw me being upset. im glad i have people like jeff to keep my spirits up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are my sunshine,&lt;br /&gt;my only sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;you make me happy,&lt;br /&gt;when skies are gray.&lt;br /&gt;you'll never know, dear,&lt;br /&gt;how much i love you.&lt;br /&gt;please dont take my sunshine away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115457027572546840?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115457027572546840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115457027572546840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115457027572546840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115457027572546840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/worried.html' title='worried.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115447570769642137</id><published>2006-08-01T19:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T19:41:47.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>skank.</title><content type='html'>i just got something interesting in my email inbox - a rude reply to me emailing an ex who wanted to remain friends. this is the email that i sent him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been great this summer - really busy, but otherwise good. I have a job at Eaton, and I'll be there for a couple more weeks and then I'm back to Bowling Green. I hope you've been doing well. I've ran into your mom and sisters a few times, but I haven't had the chance to stop by the apartment.&lt;br /&gt;Of course I still want to be friends with you. We have quite a bit of history, and we left on good terms (as far as I remember), so I don't see why we wouldn't be friends. In all honesty, you never upset me or hurt me all that much, if ever. You were always one of the nicest guys, and I think your only flaw is a bit of bad judgement, aka, Nikki. lol&lt;br /&gt;So, I hope your summer is going good, and I'd like to hear back from you. I'm not usually online a whole lot, but if you email me, I'll eventually get back to you. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let it be known that him and i broke up in 2003 or so, and since then have been friends. his family is my family, and i love all of them. this email is written by nikki, who has been the cause of a few conflicts between him and i. basically, she hates me because ... well, im not really sure. i think just because tyler and i are still friends. anyhow, this is what she wrote me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen girly!! First of all you dont even know me so how can you say that I am bad for Tyler. I have done nothing but try to make him happy and kiss his ass!! You on the other hand, you are nothing but skank. Im sick and tired of you trying to come between Tyler and I. If you want Tyler you can have him. Im thru with the bull shit head games. He tries to control what I do...maybe you could have fun with that one. Im not a bad person, until you know who I am don't pass judgement on me. Stay away from me and Tyler. Do NOT email him, call him, talk to him, write him or even THINK about him!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so ... what the hell should i do now? i dont think i was wrong in trying to respond to an email that he sent me, or to continue the friendship that has been going strong for years. also, i think its great that &lt;em&gt;she &lt;/em&gt;checks &lt;em&gt;his &lt;/em&gt;email. also, that i'm a skank. also, that im not allowed to think about him. i &lt;em&gt;love &lt;/em&gt;it when someone tells me 'dont even think about it' and is actually serious. well NYAH NYAH i'm thinking about it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115447570769642137?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115447570769642137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115447570769642137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115447570769642137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115447570769642137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/skank.html' title='skank.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115447359898067147</id><published>2006-08-01T19:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T19:06:38.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ah, london.</title><content type='html'>so ... i just got done reading mark's blog. he wants to go to london in november to see a dresden dolls concert with margaret cho as the mc. i want him to go so so bad, and i wish that i could just give him the plane ticket. i went to priceline just to see what the cost would be. i could afford it, especially with the next couple of paychecks i'll be getting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you have &lt;em&gt;no idea&lt;/em&gt; how much i want to do this for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115447359898067147?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115447359898067147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115447359898067147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115447359898067147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115447359898067147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/08/ah-london.html' title='ah, london.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115438111880820280</id><published>2006-07-31T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T17:25:18.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>blond.</title><content type='html'>i cant wait until im back in bg. all i did today at work was fantasize about how great it will be. i miss everyone so incredibly much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im gonna start tanning again. my friend with the blond eyelashes is darker than i am. i ordered proactiv last night, so hopefully i'll have nice skin in a few weeks. im also getting my nails done because they look horrible after two months of factory work. im getting my hair highlighted too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant wait to go blond. maybe i'll have more fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115438111880820280?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115438111880820280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115438111880820280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115438111880820280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115438111880820280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/blond.html' title='blond.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115429951328082797</id><published>2006-07-30T21:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T18:45:13.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sigh.</title><content type='html'>okay after having the post i was writing accidentally erased, i dont feel like re-writing any of it. it was already pretty lengthy, so now im just upset with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this is pretty much what i had - i feel sick, friend wanted to come cheer me up, but dad is a dick and wont let me have company. he can never give me a simple no, he has to sigh and look at me like im retarded and make a big deal out of it. doesnt matter if it would really really cheer me up, its not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to think that if my parents ever got divorced, i would want to live with my dad, because he was always so much fun. &lt;em&gt;fuck that&lt;/em&gt;. he's an ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a drama queen. he's a &lt;em&gt;huge&lt;/em&gt; fucking drama queen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115429951328082797?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115429951328082797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115429951328082797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115429951328082797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115429951328082797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/sigh.html' title='sigh.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115409151437118112</id><published>2006-07-28T11:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T08:58:34.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bitch.</title><content type='html'>why do i feel like such a bitch? i dont think i ever asked for anything unreasonable. i think i reacted the same way anyone would've reacted to what happened. i thought we made a compromise, and its not my fault you dont want to try it. its not my fault that you doubt we'll get back together, and its not my fault that you're so &lt;em&gt;goddamn&lt;/em&gt; pessimistic about everything. if you dont want this, fine. i did, and i thought it was worth another shot. you want to just scrap everything, and start over somewhere else. and why? because you're too insecure to realize that even if i'm around new people, new friends, new &lt;em&gt;boys&lt;/em&gt;, if i still want to be with you, it'll work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;who's the bitch now? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay that made me smile, just because its a quote from &lt;em&gt;the new guy.&lt;/em&gt; ahhhh dj qualls, you never fail me.&lt;br /&gt;also, this made me crack up and feel a lot better at the same time. try it, i bet it'll make you laugh. &lt;a href="http://www.dabreakupsong.com"&gt;http://www.dabreakupsong.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seacrest out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115409151437118112?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115409151437118112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115409151437118112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115409151437118112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115409151437118112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/bitch.html' title='bitch.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115405848929893659</id><published>2006-07-28T02:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T23:48:09.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sorry.</title><content type='html'>i know i must seem like the biggest bitch right now. that isn't my intention, and i really am sorry for how i've been treating you lately. its just frustrating that even when i ask for time off, you cant even give me that. all i want right now is space, and you just keep trying to get closer. im sorry if i didnt make myself clear about that, but space is what i really need right now. i thought i was pretty explicit when i said 'give me until i get back to bg, then we can work things out.' so honestly, thats what i need right now - space. so let &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; call &lt;em&gt;you. &lt;/em&gt;let &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; make the move. if that means you have to wait a little bit, then im sorry, but &lt;em&gt;just fucking be patient&lt;/em&gt;. you think you're making things better by keeping me close, but you're really pushing me away. so just chill, and dont be so forceful. let me be who i am, and if we're meant to be, then we'll get back together. if not, then we can just be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you love something, let it go free. if it doesnt come back, you never had it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want to be free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115405848929893659?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115405848929893659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115405848929893659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115405848929893659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115405848929893659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/sorry.html' title='sorry.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115405016566177640</id><published>2006-07-28T00:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T21:29:25.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hurrah.</title><content type='html'>things are going well. i've been a lot happier lately than i've been in a really long time. thank &lt;em&gt;god&lt;/em&gt; for great friends. also shopping. and clothes. yay clothes :) summer is coming to an end and im finally enjoying the fruits of my labor. this whole job thing has been a bitch, and im kind of glad that i only have two weeks left. im really going to miss it, though, and miss all of the people there. especially horny old guys. ha. and i didnt get to bang any of them ... sad face!!! lol i was already mega-excited about going back to bg, but now i have something to really &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;look forward to. the super-cool bass trombonist from district jazz band my senior year is ... LIVING DOWN THE HALL FROM ME!!! ooooooh excited! i had the hugest crush on him but i never really got to know him because it was all about the music, not making random hook-ups. so now, not only is he going to bg, not only is he living in the same dorm as me, he's living right down the f-ing hallway :) im stoked! im just really excited in general to move back in, and i cant wait to have a roomie that &lt;em&gt;actually talks to me. &lt;/em&gt;im gonna be so much happier knowing that i have someone around who really cares about me and is truly my friend. im looking forward to making new friends, and kind of starting over. &lt;em&gt;again.&lt;/em&gt; i dont really know where my schooling is going to take me. i really dont know if i want to do this whole opera thing. at least, not as a career anyway. double-major maybe? no way in &lt;em&gt;hell&lt;/em&gt; am i leaving my music, but i dont really think i have what it takes to make a living off of it. i've been throwing around a lot of ideas, and they're about as fleeting as anything. so far, i've wanted to be a veteranarian and an art teacher. and still sing professionally. im a mess! so i really dont know what im doing with anything, but i guess, only time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115405016566177640?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115405016566177640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115405016566177640' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115405016566177640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115405016566177640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/hurrah.html' title='hurrah.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115379730579936049</id><published>2006-07-25T02:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T23:15:05.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>[sic]</title><content type='html'>gross. all i feel is gross. someone, remind me never to drink strong, cheap coffee. its almost as bad as strong, cheap vodka. for the past couple of hours, i've felt like i have to throw up and pee, all at the same time. great fun! maybe if i start referring to our coffee as rotgut, my parents will buy better stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need more tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this post was pointless, im just bored. ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115379730579936049?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115379730579936049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115379730579936049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115379730579936049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115379730579936049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/sic.html' title='[sic]'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115378606493025612</id><published>2006-07-24T20:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T20:07:44.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel sheisty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115378606493025612?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115378606493025612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115378606493025612' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115378606493025612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115378606493025612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-feel-sheisty.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115358925926435174</id><published>2006-07-22T12:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T13:27:45.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>back to square one</title><content type='html'>its actually starting to sink in. we're through. done. &lt;em&gt;over.&lt;/em&gt; and its killing me. i cant help but think that i made an awful decision. things around here arent helping either. i found out that i wont be needed at my job for at least another week. doesnt sound like too big of a deal, but when i only have three weeks left at that job, its a big deal to me. aside from that, there are so many goddamn conflicts around here. as far as my parents are concerned, i cant do anything right. i hate the fact that im finally making my own money, paying for all of  my own stuff, and they still treat me like a little kid. if you want me to pay for my own gas, clothes, groceries, like an &lt;em&gt;adult,&lt;/em&gt; then at least treat me a little bit like an adult. so basically, life kind of blows right now. i miss everyone from bg so much, and i wont be able to see them for another month. for four months, you gave me something else to concentrate on. something to show me that life doesnt totally suck. something to let me know that i was loved, and that someone really did care about me. and now thats gone. and its all my fault. so now its back to square one, back to the way things used to be. back when i hated myself and all i wanted to do was die. so once again, i fucked myself over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think you lost your love,&lt;br /&gt;When I saw her yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;It's you she's thinking of&lt;br /&gt;And she told me what to say.&lt;br /&gt;She says she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know that can't be bad.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know you should be glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said you hurt her so&lt;br /&gt;She almost lost her mind.&lt;br /&gt;But now she said she knows&lt;br /&gt;You're not the hurting kind.&lt;br /&gt;She says she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know that can't be bad.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know you should be glad. Ooh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;And with a love like that&lt;br /&gt;You know you should be glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it's up to you,&lt;br /&gt;I think it's only fair,&lt;br /&gt;Pride can hurt you, too,&lt;br /&gt;Apologize to her&lt;br /&gt;Because she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know that can't be bad.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she loves you&lt;br /&gt;And you know you should be glad. Ooh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;And with a love like that&lt;br /&gt;You know you should be glad.&lt;br /&gt;With a love like that&lt;br /&gt;You know you should be glad.&lt;br /&gt;With a love like that,&lt;br /&gt;You know you sho-o-ould&lt;br /&gt;Be Glad!&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah Ye-ah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115358925926435174?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115358925926435174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115358925926435174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115358925926435174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115358925926435174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/back-to-square-one.html' title='back to square one'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115309162545971607</id><published>2006-07-16T22:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T19:13:45.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>this sucks.</title><content type='html'>if you're really done, i mean, really &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;done, then just let me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stop fucking toying with me like you think its fun. if you want to break up, then just do it. if you want to stay with me, then thats great. but &lt;em&gt;stop toying with me.&lt;/em&gt; i know you think im stronger than that, but im not. i cant take this constant emotional stress. its killing me, and i think you know what happens when i feel like its too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish you could just hate me, that way it'd be easier to get over you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115309162545971607?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115309162545971607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115309162545971607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115309162545971607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115309162545971607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/07/this-sucks.html' title='this sucks.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115162207828605638</id><published>2006-06-29T22:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T19:01:18.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i think he's bored with me ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115162207828605638?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115162207828605638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115162207828605638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115162207828605638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115162207828605638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-think-hes-bored-with-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115102798300535925</id><published>2006-06-23T00:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T22:01:28.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gone.</title><content type='html'>dont really know what to do now. nothing seems real. im sorry i said things to hurt you. you said things that hurt me, deeply, and i wanted to even things out. this wasnt the right thing to do and i know this now. i cant deal with all of this. i dont want to be here anymore. i dont want to be anywhere. im not trying to make you feel guilty, and im not just whining. i hurt so much, and you dont understand. maybe you'll understand later, and maybe you wont. either way, i dont want to hurt anymore. &lt;em&gt;i cant deal with this anymore.&lt;/em&gt; i cant imagine life without you, and i dont understand how you can guarantee that we'll split up. if we're going to break up, then why are we doing this? why are we putting ourselves through this? why am i putting &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; through this? you dont need this. you dont need &lt;em&gt;me. &lt;/em&gt;you're going to find someone better, right? someone better looking, skinner than i am, right? you're going to break up with me because eventually, you're going to be better than me ... &lt;em&gt;right?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant take this. i hope we'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone told me once that cutting helps them equalize the pain they feel on the inside by feeling it on the outside. how right they are. oh, dont mention this. i dont want to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just because i try not to talk about it ...&lt;br /&gt;does not mean that i am over it,&lt;br /&gt;that i feel better,&lt;br /&gt;or that i am ever going to be okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115102798300535925?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115102798300535925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115102798300535925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115102798300535925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115102798300535925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/06/gone.html' title='gone.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115085158012455798</id><published>2006-06-20T23:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T21:04:59.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sorry.</title><content type='html'>im sorry that im fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that you dont believe me when i say i want to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that you dont understand how hard it is for me to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that it seems like i dont care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that when you're looking great, i'll probably still be fat and ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that someday, we might break up because im fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry that i cant be more beautiful for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115085158012455798?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115085158012455798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115085158012455798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115085158012455798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115085158012455798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/06/sorry.html' title='sorry.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-115076871982769369</id><published>2006-06-20T00:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T21:58:39.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>empty</title><content type='html'>feeling kind of empty. i miss him like mad and i feel like a part of me is gone. he really is part of me, and when he's not here, im incomplete. i feel miserable, but it just confirms the fact that i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;miss you babe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wish you were here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-115076871982769369?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/115076871982769369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=115076871982769369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115076871982769369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/115076871982769369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/06/empty.html' title='empty'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114972877621751445</id><published>2006-06-08T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T21:08:19.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>long time, no post</title><content type='html'>so ... its been a while, and i guess i haven't really had anything to post about. i guess when things are going great, i dont feel the need to write in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, things arent great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know what else you want from me. i love you unconditionally. i've given you everything i have. you're my everything and i cant believe that you would think i do things on purpose to hurt you. you're my world, and i love you with all of my heart. im sorry i can make you so angry. im sorry that you dont realize how much i love you. im sorry that you think i dont care. im sorry that it seems like im not into this as much as you are. im sorry that i cant revolve my day entirely around you; i wish i could. im sorry that we have to be so far apart. im sorry that you have to waste time worrying about me. im sorry you have to hear me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you, even if you dont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te amo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114972877621751445?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114972877621751445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114972877621751445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114972877621751445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114972877621751445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/06/long-time-no-post.html' title='long time, no post'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114711672340506146</id><published>2006-05-08T18:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T15:32:03.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>one crazy night</title><content type='html'>i had an amazing friday night. and by amazing, i mean party until 8 am kind of amazing. julio and i went to a party in maumee at his friend sam's house. it started out just being julio and i, and sam and his girlfriend rhiannon, but there ended up being a few more people there that i really cant remember. doesnt really matter, they weren't what made the night completely amazing. so anyhow, a few drinks and some illegal substances later, the four of us went upstairs to &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; party. after a few more illegal things and quite a bit of persuading, its a no-pants no-shirt area. to make a long story short, i ended up hooking up with rhiannon. it was so awesome, and i just kept telling her how beautiful she was. yeah, lame, i know. doesnt matter, she kept telling me the same thing. which, thinking about that right now, puts a smile on my face. and now, two days later, i still cant stop thinking about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ... i once had a girl, or should i say, she once had me ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114711672340506146?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114711672340506146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114711672340506146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114711672340506146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114711672340506146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/05/one-crazy-night.html' title='one crazy night'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114684647972864825</id><published>2006-05-05T12:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T12:27:59.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>finally</title><content type='html'>well ... he did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're finally official. i love it. i love &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114684647972864825?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114684647972864825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114684647972864825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114684647972864825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114684647972864825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/05/finally.html' title='finally'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114616835757330958</id><published>2006-04-27T15:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T16:05:57.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i cant do this ...</title><content type='html'>im not strong enough. im so scared right now, and i really dont know what to do. i thought that i had everything in control and i thought i was so sure of it all. now im not sure of anything. i love you. and i hate that it came to this. its my fault, i know it is. i dont think i'll be able to forgive myself. here, i had my one shot at happiness and true love and i fucked it up. thats all i do. fuck things up. &lt;em&gt;god&lt;/em&gt;. i cant do anything right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now I understand what you tried to say to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How you suffered for your sanity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And how you tried to set them free&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They would not listen, they did not know how&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Perhaps, they'll listen now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For they could not love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And still your love was true&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And when no hope was left inside&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;on that starry, starry night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You took your life as lovers often do&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I could have told you,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This world was never meant&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;for one as beautiful as you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i cant keep doing this ... its not worth it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114616835757330958?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114616835757330958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114616835757330958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114616835757330958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114616835757330958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-cant-do-this.html' title='i cant do this ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114615374301914076</id><published>2006-04-27T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T12:04:27.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>johnny cash ... hurt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hurt myself today&lt;br /&gt;To see if I still feel&lt;br /&gt;I focus on the pain&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that's real&lt;br /&gt;The needle tears a hole&lt;br /&gt;The old familiar sting&lt;br /&gt;Try to kill it all away&lt;br /&gt;But I remember everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I become&lt;br /&gt;My sweetest friend&lt;br /&gt;Everyone I know goes away&lt;br /&gt;In the end&lt;br /&gt;And you could have it all&lt;br /&gt;My empire of dirt&lt;br /&gt;I will let you down&lt;br /&gt;I will make you hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wear this crown of thorns&lt;br /&gt;Upon my liar's chair&lt;br /&gt;Full of broken thoughts&lt;br /&gt;I cannot repair&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the stains of time&lt;br /&gt;The feelings disappear&lt;br /&gt;You are someone else&lt;br /&gt;I am still right here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I become&lt;br /&gt;My sweetest friend&lt;br /&gt;Everyone I know goes away&lt;br /&gt;In the end&lt;br /&gt;And you could have it all&lt;br /&gt;My empire of dirt&lt;br /&gt;I will let you down&lt;br /&gt;I will make you hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could start again&lt;br /&gt;A million miles away&lt;br /&gt;I would keep myself&lt;br /&gt;I would find a way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114615374301914076?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114615374301914076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114615374301914076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114615374301914076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114615374301914076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/johnny-cash-hurt.html' title='johnny cash ... hurt'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114548044639302381</id><published>2006-04-19T16:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T17:00:46.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i told myself a while ago that i wasn't ever going to cut again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess old habits die hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114548044639302381?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114548044639302381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114548044639302381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114548044639302381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114548044639302381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-told-myself-while-ago-that-i-wasnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114493028723101326</id><published>2006-04-13T11:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T08:11:27.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hoo-rah</title><content type='html'>so ... its my birthday. let the amazingness begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114493028723101326?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114493028723101326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114493028723101326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114493028723101326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114493028723101326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/hoo-rah.html' title='hoo-rah'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114488070239100416</id><published>2006-04-12T18:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T18:25:02.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>aqualung ... gentle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is not the time to wonder why&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just let the heart and mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Be still for just some time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the time for the rest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just let it go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You know its for the best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're fragile,and if you're delicate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take my hand but be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let the river flow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Washing over me for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is not the time to compromise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;if you're feeling it too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then you've realised&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the time for a change&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes you know it's true&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Deep down within you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're fragile, and if you're delicate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take my hand but be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let the river flow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Washing over me for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let the river flow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Washing over me for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you're fragile, and if you're delicate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take my hand but be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let the river flow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Washing over me for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let the river flow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Washing over me for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;be gentle with me please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114488070239100416?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114488070239100416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114488070239100416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114488070239100416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114488070239100416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/aqualung-gentle.html' title='aqualung ... gentle'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114478461874853563</id><published>2006-04-11T18:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T15:44:06.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh...*</title><content type='html'>its gonna be a long day. i dont understand how your mind works. you're probably thinking the same thing about me. whatever. am i irrational? possibly. do i care? not likely. will it change? even more unlikely. so ... what exactly am i feeling right now? im feeling like a scapegoat. all this shit thats making you tense and moody, i had nothing to do with. however, you still find it necessary to lash out at me. thats just not fair. you know if i could help, i would. im trying to be as little of a problem as i can right now, just so you have time to chill and not worry. i wish i could do more to help. i dont think you'd let me even if i could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;none of that is my fault,&lt;br /&gt;so why do i feel guilty?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114478461874853563?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114478461874853563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114478461874853563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114478461874853563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114478461874853563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/sigh.html' title='*sigh...*'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114461932886448046</id><published>2006-04-09T20:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T17:48:48.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i think this is why i love this kid</title><content type='html'>so ... just read ryan's xanga ... i love him so much and i hate the fact that i cant really do much to make him feel better. if i could, i would love him as more than just a dear friend until the day i die. sucks that i got assigned the wrong set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mostly, i hate being a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i hate how we're going through a lot of the same woes right now. i think thats another reason why i feel close to him. he put it best in his xanga, and its exactly what i feel, so im just gonna put it here too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i'm meant to be alone and without the love that i once had. I'm just never going to to have what i truly want. and in truth i had what i wanted, and he left me. and he's gone, i haven't talked to him in a year, haven't seen him in a year. but, he is still in my heart. and i can't get him out of it. i hate it. i hate him. i hate myself. i hate feeling lost everyday because i gave my whole self to someone that didn't want me. i dont want to die unhappy and loveless. i just want a guy to love and a guy to love me in return......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and thus...the tears begin"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets just make it through together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114461932886448046?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114461932886448046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114461932886448046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114461932886448046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114461932886448046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-think-this-is-why-i-love-this-kid.html' title='i think this is why i love this kid'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114461772535239376</id><published>2006-04-08T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T17:22:05.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck.</title><content type='html'>fuck. this. day. fuck everything i've come to know and trust. i dont feel like i can trust anything, or any&lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; for that matter, anymore. i just want to find a dark corner and sob my eyes out. it'd be even nicer if i had a pair of scissors to take in there with me. i need to rip myself open right now. i &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to bleed. i guess, to quote someone who thought they were helping me, i must &lt;em&gt;reek&lt;/em&gt; of the need for attention right now. i suppose thats true. i would love nothing more that to have someone paying me just a little bit of attention. i want nothing more right now than to be held. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO FUCKING HOLD ME AND NOT COWER AWAY FROM MY TOUCH.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;i want to be a toddler again, looking up at my parents with outstretched arms, asking in my broken baby-language for them to pick me up ... hold you ...? ... thats all i want right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone to hold me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114461772535239376?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114461772535239376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114461772535239376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114461772535239376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114461772535239376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/fuck.html' title='fuck.'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114428989804884325</id><published>2006-04-06T01:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T22:18:18.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i dont get you. i dont think &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; get you either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114428989804884325?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114428989804884325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114428989804884325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114428989804884325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114428989804884325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-dont-get-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114424997029889634</id><published>2006-04-05T14:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T11:13:50.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dont worry ...</title><content type='html'>you have nothing to be worrying about babe.&lt;br /&gt;to quote myself - "im still mad in love with julio"&lt;br /&gt;dont fret&lt;br /&gt;just mellow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114424997029889634?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114424997029889634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114424997029889634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114424997029889634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114424997029889634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/dont-worry.html' title='dont worry ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114420871133167606</id><published>2006-04-04T23:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T23:45:11.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>argh ...</title><content type='html'>why is it that i cant seem to talk to guys i like until im in a relationship ... ? argh. this should've happenened months ago. grrr conflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not like it will change anything ... im still mad in love with julio&lt;br /&gt;boys just have bad timing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114420871133167606?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114420871133167606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114420871133167606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114420871133167606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114420871133167606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/argh.html' title='argh ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114415699288639196</id><published>2006-04-04T09:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T09:23:12.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what more do you want ... ?</title><content type='html'>i dont understand what you want from me. ive done so many things for you that i wouldnt have done for anyone else, and you know what i mean there. i love you unconditionally, and i tell you all the time. i guess thats not enough for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im content with everything that you've been doing for me. you've been amazing and i hope this doesnt end before it starts. it doesnt take a lot to make me happy, so why does it seem like its a chore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never asked for much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114415699288639196?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114415699288639196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114415699288639196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114415699288639196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114415699288639196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-more-do-you-want.html' title='what more do you want ... ?'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114412013879796404</id><published>2006-04-04T02:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T23:11:03.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so now im confused</title><content type='html'>am i bored with you ... ? what the hell kind of question is that? are you bored with &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;? for the first time, i find myself questioning things; questioning everything. do i want to keep doing this? &lt;em&gt;do you ... ?&lt;/em&gt; these are the kind of questions i would ask someone if i was planning on breaking their heart. is that what you have in mind, or am i just paranoid? i cant help but wonder whats going through your head right now. but whatever, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so did you notice we didnt exchange "i love you's" like we normally do?&lt;br /&gt;were you that rushed to get off of the phone with me?&lt;br /&gt;dont worry about answering these questions, and dont bring this up in conversation.&lt;br /&gt;all things will be answered in due time, i believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i liked it better when i had nothing to write about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114412013879796404?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114412013879796404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114412013879796404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114412013879796404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114412013879796404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-now-im-confused.html' title='so now im confused'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114410091841801165</id><published>2006-04-03T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T20:29:44.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>this weekend ... what a trip</title><content type='html'>holy crap. i had such an amazing (and busy) time this weekend. me weekend started on thursday with me going home to the pageant rehearsal. that was a ton of fun, because i got to hang out with jamie and justin. jamie was representing van wert, and justin was an escort. love that boy to death, but he looked like a total dork at times. hah i guess thats part of why he's amazing. then friday was the pageant, which was a HUGE let down. ugh. stupid deanna. FAKEY McFAKEFAKE!! jamie got first runner up and i should've been putting the crown on her head at the end of the night. &lt;em&gt;sigh&lt;/em&gt;. ah well. some things you just cant change. at least i got to get up on stage one last time and sing my heart out. i sang habanera, from carmen, but not before i could go onstage before my cue and feel like a total dork lol. i got a little bit misty during my goodbye speech, but i knew that was going to happen. i mean, come one. i &lt;em&gt;bawled &lt;/em&gt;last year. so after the pageant, jamie justin, julio and i came back to my house. it was awesome getting to spend time with everyone, and i already miss them like hell. julio stayed the night at my house after coaxing my parents for a while. and no hanky panky, we were good little kids like my mom would have wanted. woke up super early the next morning, ready to head back to bg for a choral rehearsal. and wow was that a blast. i hate how i always leave that choir feeling like we got very little accomplished. and we have tour this weekend, so we'll see how that goes. after rehearsal, julio and i met up again, and we hung out at his house for a while. i decided to fall asleep on the floor in his room. what can i say, i needed a nap. so i wake up, julio makes pizza, and we took his sister to her prom at UT. she looked soooo pretty and her date seemed like a pretty nice kid. after that, julio and i went back to his house and watched a little bit of will ferrell. gotta love the robert goulet sketch ... quick! staring contest, you and me, now. ..... you win. you always do. GOULET! ... so then julio and i go buy some mikes and bacardi 151 ... also cadbury eggs which makes him amazing lol and we headed back to bg. i think that was when we started smoking. i cant really remember! i just remember getting all tingly and being really chill and at peace with everything. he turned on some floyd and i zoned out. all the lights were so beautiful, and it was like i was seeing everything for the first time. it was one of the most amazing feelings ever. once we got back, at some point i found tyler and jonesy and then we drove around and smoked some more. then we came back to the room and hung out for a little while, drinking. a little while later julio's friend mills came and we hung out with him and they smoked. i was content to hanging out in the backseat and zoning out. once they were done we came back to my room and watched back to the future ... or rather&lt;em&gt;, they&lt;/em&gt; watched the movie. &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt; fell asleep. again. so julio wakes me up, mills leaves, and i say something that i totally cant remember. then julio and i ... well yanno ... and then i fell asleep. again. im a tired little girl! so the next morning was pretty rushed, but still cool. i forgot about damn daylight savings time, and didnt change my clocks so i lost an hour that i really needed. but julio and i got breakfast, and everything was fine. after breakfast i took julio back to toledo, and then tyler, jonesy and i headed to columbus. and after that ... well ... thats a totally different post&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114410091841801165?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114410091841801165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114410091841801165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114410091841801165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114410091841801165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/04/this-weekend-what-trip.html' title='this weekend ... what a trip'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114365616889407917</id><published>2006-03-29T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T13:16:08.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>everybody ... insecure on three ... ready? one ... two ... three ...</title><content type='html'>INSECURE. yeah team. play ball and all that other bullshit. im so fucking unsure about everything right now. dont get me wrong, i LOVE julio, and he loves me, so thats awesome and amazing. but at the same time, i cant help but feel like everything else is suffering a little bit because i dedicate so much of my time to him. and its not that he demands my time, i just want to give him all of it. i love him so much, and i love being with him so much that i could spend hours and hours with him and totally ignore everything else thats going on in my life. thats probably not too healthy ... and thats what worries me. i havent hung out with hardly any of my friends in a very long time. probably since ive been back from spring break. i confine myself to my room, waiting for his call, or his instant message. im alienating myself and pushing my friends away. on the flip side, since im in my room so much, ive been keeping up on my homework more. so, my insane love for julio = more room time + homework time - friends.&lt;br /&gt;... and baby, i know youre going to read this, and im not saying that any of this is bad. i just have to get all of these thoughts out. i love you more than anything in the whole wide world. youre my stars and my moon, remember? ...&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i dont really need anyone else. the only other person here ive been keeping in contact with is sadie. and for that, im super thankful. shes amazing, and is (and will always be) one of my best friends. i hope that when i get married, shes around to be my maid (or matron, if she gets there before me) of honor. but as far as the guys that i used to hang out with, i dont see them at all any more. mark is, sadly, nonexistent in my life. the whole phasing out of mark started as a little bit of a social experiment. my theory - if i no longer make a point to search him out and call him and visit his room, our friendship will no longer be. well ... its been since spring break. ive seen him once, and i called to tell him happy birthday. thats &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt;. and i guess i never really fully realized how much that hurt until just now. shit. i miss him like mad and i really doubt that he misses me at all. i mean, come on. hes made no attempt to contact me. the one time that i saw him was at the dial, and i was getting food. but that was a totally random and unplanned event. if you sit in one spot long enough, the person you wait for will pass by. so, its in his court now. i know you read this, are you going to do anything about it? or has our friendship always been one-sided?&lt;br /&gt;...sigh...&lt;br /&gt;whatever. if life hands you lemons ... throw em back.&lt;br /&gt;i am a retreatist.&lt;br /&gt;look it up and drop that at your next party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, for those of you who would rather skim the words than actually read them, here you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IMPORTANT POINTS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. i love julio more than anything&lt;br /&gt;2. im worried that my relationships with friends are suffering because i want to spend all my time with him&lt;br /&gt;3. sadie is amazing. yeeah sadie.&lt;br /&gt;4. if my life is a bad soap opera, then mark fell down a mine shaft or some other cliched demise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah ... i mailed in a post secret&lt;br /&gt;hopefully it gets put on the site&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.postsecret.com"&gt;http://www.postsecret.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youll know its me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114365616889407917?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114365616889407917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114365616889407917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114365616889407917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114365616889407917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/everybody-insecure-on-three-ready-one.html' title='everybody ... insecure on three ... ready? one ... two ... three ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114365700003821631</id><published>2006-03-29T13:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T13:30:00.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Emily tries but misunderstands&lt;br /&gt;She often inclined to borrow somebody's dreams till tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;There is no other day&lt;br /&gt;Let's try it another way&lt;br /&gt;You'll lose your mind and play&lt;br /&gt;Free games for may&lt;br /&gt;See Emily play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after dark Emily cries&lt;br /&gt;Gazing through trees in sorrow hardly a sound till tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;There is no other day&lt;br /&gt;Let's try it another way&lt;br /&gt;You'll lose your mind and play&lt;br /&gt;Free games for may&lt;br /&gt;See Emily play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put on a gown that touches the ground,&lt;br /&gt;Float on a river forever and ever, emily&lt;br /&gt;There is no other day&lt;br /&gt;Let's try it another way&lt;br /&gt;You'll lose your mind and play&lt;br /&gt;Free games for may&lt;br /&gt;See Emily play&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114365700003821631?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114365700003821631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114365700003821631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114365700003821631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114365700003821631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/emily-tries-but-misunderstands-she.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114313903656746307</id><published>2006-03-23T13:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T13:37:16.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world.&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you anything, ev'rything if you want things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114313903656746307?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114313903656746307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114313903656746307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114313903656746307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114313903656746307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/youre-kind-of-girl-that-fits-in-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114308568948709346</id><published>2006-03-23T01:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T22:48:09.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>so ... about tonite ...</title><content type='html'>holy crap ... totally amazing night. i had such a great time hanging out with julio and spending time with him. everything is so perfect when we're together, and its like i never want him to leave. we fit together so perfectly and wonderfully, and everything is amazing. i cant even put my words together properly right now, but i know that all these things im feeling about him are real. i wish i could say more, but there's not much more to say other than im totally in love with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and p.s. ... i smell like smoke and sex and i wouldnt have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you tons babe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114308568948709346?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114308568948709346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114308568948709346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114308568948709346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114308568948709346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-about-tonite.html' title='so ... about tonite ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114282253679009107</id><published>2006-03-19T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T21:42:16.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>huzzah</title><content type='html'>so ... spent the night with julio last night. great, &lt;em&gt;great&lt;/em&gt; times. we had so much fun being around each other, even if he didn't remember some of it ... note: try not to drink too much before i get there :) we had such an awesome time just being with each other, and i miss him already. i cant wait until i get to see him again. i think that we really got a lot closer to each other last night. i know now that there is no doubt in my mind about my feelings for him. im sooooo totally into him. this is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,&lt;br /&gt;blue skies from pain.&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?&lt;br /&gt;A smile from a veil?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?&lt;br /&gt;Hot ashes for trees?&lt;br /&gt;Hot air for a cool breeze?&lt;br /&gt;Cold comfort for change?&lt;br /&gt;And did you exchange a walk on part in the war&lt;br /&gt;for a lead role in a cage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish, how I wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,&lt;br /&gt;year after year, running over the same old ground.&lt;br /&gt;What have we found?&lt;br /&gt;The same old fears,&lt;br /&gt;wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so ... are you planning on ever asking me to be your girlfriend ... ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think you already know my answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114282253679009107?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114282253679009107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114282253679009107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114282253679009107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114282253679009107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/huzzah.html' title='huzzah'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114248526034283193</id><published>2006-03-16T02:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T00:01:00.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>latinos do it better&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114248526034283193?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114248526034283193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114248526034283193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114248526034283193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114248526034283193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/latinos-do-it-better.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114221802455608182</id><published>2006-03-12T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T21:47:04.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my life as a fairy tale</title><content type='html'>so ... everything is &lt;em&gt;perfect. &lt;/em&gt;absolutely perfect. i finally met julio today, and it was amazing. i couldn't be happier with how everything turned out. he was everything i could've hoped for. leaving him tonight, i find myself counting the hours until i can see him again. as soon as i left, i wanted to turn my car around and go right back into his arms. i was so happy just sitting there with him, with his arm around my waist and him planting soft kisses on the top of my head. &lt;em&gt;perfect.&lt;/em&gt; i wanted so badly just to kiss him right there and then, throw myself on him, and have him take me. it would've been wonderful. can't let on too much too soon though. i can't give my heart (or my kisses) away too soon. thats always in the back of my mind ... and right now, i couldn't care less. i'd give him the world if i could. the stars and the moon and everything. we're so perfect together. i feel amazing when im in his arms; i'm safe and secure and nothing else matters. its so amazing when we're together. i feel like all my wishes are coming true. like i'm the princess in a fairy tale. and he's my prince charming. i wanna tell him i love him .... not yet though :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh hell, who am i kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;i love you ... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114221802455608182?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114221802455608182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114221802455608182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114221802455608182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114221802455608182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-life-as-fairy-tale.html' title='my life as a fairy tale'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114196560763355131</id><published>2006-03-09T23:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T23:40:07.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss you</title><content type='html'>i cant stand the fact that i haven't had a decent conversation with you all day. i miss your voice so incredibly much. i hope you're missing me too ... cant wait to hear from you again ... i need you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114196560763355131?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114196560763355131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114196560763355131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114196560763355131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114196560763355131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-miss-you.html' title='i miss you'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114188513139916333</id><published>2006-03-09T03:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T13:52:17.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>love love love love</title><content type='html'>he's so amazing ... we talked about how there are things that we want to tell each other but cant just yet. there are so many things that i want to tell him, but i have to be rational and logical and keep telling myself that i'm not supposed to be feeling this way yet. i hate having to follow rational thinking and not my heart. i really wanna tell him everything, and just spill my entire mess of thoughts ... so, if he reads this, great. if not, i'll end up telling him anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. i think im in love ... not even fake love, or temporary love. i think this might be it.&lt;br /&gt;2. i daydream about marriage, and what my name will sound like with 'martinez' on the end of it&lt;br /&gt;3. our kids &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; be cute, and they will have amazing names .... autumn raine martinez ... calla lily martinez ... indigo skye martinez ... jakob ross martinez ... austin sage martinez ... ohh it just goes on and on&lt;br /&gt;4. every night i fall asleep imagining his arms around me, him kissing my shoulder, him telling me that he's in love too&lt;br /&gt;5. he is always in my thoughts, in my mind, and in my heart. he is the &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; guy i think about all day. i'm no longer interested in persuing anyone else, and guys i liked a short while ago have lost all of their appeal to me&lt;br /&gt;6. i have never &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; felt like this about &lt;em&gt;anyone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amanda luvs julio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114188513139916333?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114188513139916333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114188513139916333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114188513139916333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114188513139916333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/love-love-love-love.html' title='love love love love'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114174754087268375</id><published>2006-03-07T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T11:05:40.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>all better!</title><content type='html'>im finally feeling 100% back to normal. yay for not being sick anymore!! it's been so awesome lately, and im actually looking forward to being done with spring break. i guess it makes a difference when you have something to go back to. well ..... not necessarily some&lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; ... more like some&lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt;. so a couple weeks ago, mark shows me  this online hook-up site and me, being so desperate to find an actual relationship, am instantly hooked. so i'm on this stupid thing &lt;em&gt;every single day&lt;/em&gt; looking for mr. right ... which isn't going too well. all my matches were butt-ugly. bleah. then, last week, i was checking my matches, &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;, and there's finally one really cute guy. so i look at this guy's profile, and he's just amazing. so, he's really cute, sounds really interesting, and he lives in toledo. holy crap i'm already deciding what our kids will look like ... ooookay not really, but i bet they'd be cute. anyways ... i've been talking to this guy (name is julio, by the way) for only a few days and every day i learn something new about him that i just love. he's such a great person, and he has an amazing personality, and we get along really well. the first time we really talked on the phone, we didnt want to stop. we ending up talking to each other for a little over four hours that day. yesterday we talked close to four hours, too. i can't believe how much i already care about him. i haven't even met him in person yet. i'm meeting him sunday when i go back to bowling green. i cant wait. wish me luck :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114174754087268375?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114174754087268375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114174754087268375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114174754087268375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114174754087268375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-better.html' title='all better!'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114153679212461953</id><published>2006-03-05T00:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T00:34:15.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sicky sicky two-by-four, threw up on the bathroom floor</title><content type='html'>so .... since thursday, i've been pretty much constantly ill. i'll have periods where my stomach will calm, and i'll boldy consume a small meal, only to regret it deeply as it all comes rushing back up with violent jerks of my body. i have to celebrate the fact that just tonight, i was able to keep down a very small portion of ramen noodles and applesauce. i got cocky and tried to drink an excess of green tea, in hopes that it would hydrate my weak body, and make my veins appear bold on my hands instead of the small, withered green and blue lines that they are now. this, however, proved to be quite unsucessful. i know now that i can stand to vomit green tea, and it is one of the more pleasant things that have came surging back up into my mouth. i haven't been able to keep much down, and what i &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; keep down is so very unsatisfying. i realize that, at this point, i needn't be worried with what is satisfying and what is not satisfying. i need to be worried about keeping myself from becoming dehydrated, and that's a road i'd rather not travel again. because if i have to go to the hospital again, they might find out that it's not the flu that i've contracted. i can't go back .... i &lt;em&gt;won't&lt;/em&gt; go back. awful hospital with its sterile beds and sterile scent, sterile nurses measuring every single liquid that my body released. i wish i could &lt;em&gt;eat, &lt;/em&gt;i wish i could &lt;em&gt;drink.&lt;/em&gt; too many edibles pass my eyes and i want so deeply to be able to dine like a normal person again. fuck applesauce, ramen, and green tea. i would deeply relish being able to eat a steak, a rack of ribs, pasta, vegetables, &lt;em&gt;anything &lt;/em&gt;that wasn't a clear liquid or small and easily digested. i would love nothing more than to go into the kitchen right now and gorge myself on everything there, and not care if my weakened stomach purged it all right back up. i hate being sick, being quarantined and avoided. i hate having to excuse myself so i can vomit. i hate watching everyone else eat amazing food while i am forced to nibble saltines and sip green tea (&lt;em&gt;sip&lt;/em&gt;, mind you). ah well. my father promises me breakfast tomorrow. i can't wait. i've never been so excited about a meal. i hope i can keep it all down; the food and my sheer excitement. &lt;em&gt;cheers.&lt;/em&gt; here's to hoping i &lt;em&gt;don't keel over.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114153679212461953?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114153679212461953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114153679212461953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114153679212461953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114153679212461953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/sicky-sicky-two-by-four-threw-up-on.html' title='sicky sicky two-by-four, threw up on the bathroom floor'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114119041852073142</id><published>2006-03-01T03:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T00:20:18.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>goodnight moon</title><content type='html'>another day comes to a close and yet again i cant find any of my friends. i hate how &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt; always have to search out &lt;em&gt;them.&lt;/em&gt;  how &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt; always have to call &lt;em&gt;them&lt;/em&gt;. how &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt; always have to go to &lt;em&gt;them.&lt;/em&gt; why cant anyone be looking for me? why cant anyone call me, just to hang out? why cant someone come to me for once?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, here i sit&lt;br /&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;alone&lt;br /&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;again.&lt;br /&gt;fuck it&lt;br /&gt;im just gonna go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;it'll make tomorrow come faster,&lt;br /&gt;but ...&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow will be just like today,&lt;br /&gt;so why do i want it here so badly?&lt;br /&gt;i want today to be gone so much&lt;br /&gt;that i'll risk a fucked-up tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;just to be rid of today.&lt;br /&gt;so goodnight world,&lt;br /&gt;i'll see you in the morrow.&lt;br /&gt;goodnight moon,&lt;br /&gt;i loved our conversation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114119041852073142?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114119041852073142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114119041852073142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114119041852073142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114119041852073142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/03/goodnight-moon.html' title='goodnight moon'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114101604011688173</id><published>2006-02-26T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T23:54:00.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what if ...</title><content type='html'>what if i said i was leaving,&lt;br /&gt;leaving and never coming back?&lt;br /&gt;would you finally tell me you loved me?&lt;br /&gt;finally utter those&lt;br /&gt;three&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;small&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;words?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would you tell me, hoping i'd stay?&lt;br /&gt;i think i'd move,&lt;br /&gt;pack up everything and go,&lt;br /&gt;just to hear you tell me you were in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if i told you i was dying?&lt;br /&gt;told you i had cancer&lt;br /&gt;leukemia&lt;br /&gt;something awful.&lt;br /&gt;would you give me what i want most?&lt;br /&gt;would you let me be your first?&lt;br /&gt;let me guide you with gentle touches and soft kisses?&lt;br /&gt;would you let me take you&lt;br /&gt;with short, breathy gasps,&lt;br /&gt;and saying,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"i love you i love you i love you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;over and over again,&lt;br /&gt;and you saying it back?&lt;br /&gt;i think it'd be alright to die&lt;br /&gt;just to share that moment with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if i had a gun to my head?&lt;br /&gt;a hundred pills in my stomach,&lt;br /&gt;razors to my wrists,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;what then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what would you tell me to make me stop?&lt;br /&gt;what would you let me do to you?&lt;br /&gt;would you tell me that you were all mine?&lt;br /&gt;tell me i could do as i please,&lt;br /&gt;tell me anything i wanted to hear?&lt;br /&gt;would you let me throw you down,&lt;br /&gt;dig my nails into your back,&lt;br /&gt;and bite your neck?&lt;br /&gt;would you let me &lt;em&gt;fuck&lt;/em&gt; you?&lt;br /&gt;take you hard and fast and rough,&lt;br /&gt;without even asking if you wanted it.&lt;br /&gt;would you let me?&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;really.&lt;br /&gt;get ready babe,&lt;br /&gt;the pistol's loaded, the pills are ready, the razors sharp.&lt;br /&gt;let's have a go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114101604011688173?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114101604011688173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114101604011688173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114101604011688173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114101604011688173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/02/what-if_26.html' title='what if ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-114010250074005108</id><published>2006-02-16T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T10:08:20.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i dont understand ...</title><content type='html'>i dont understand how i can be so depressed when everyone around me is so happy. dont understand how i feel most alone when im surrounded by friends, how i always feel like this. dont understand why i am so alienated from the group, always on the outside looking in. dont understand why im still friends with all of them. dont understand why they push me out without even realizing. dont understand how one person can make me feel like shit and still be completely oblivious to the fact until someone else points it out. dont understand why i cant be happy for any of them. dont understand why i cant seem to ever get better, why it never gets better. i dont understand much, but i know one thing. this needs to change. &lt;em&gt;i need to change.&lt;/em&gt; i need to rise above it all. fuck all the people i lose on my way up. they never mattered anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-114010250074005108?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/114010250074005108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=114010250074005108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114010250074005108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/114010250074005108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-dont-understand.html' title='i dont understand ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113952239152555170</id><published>2006-02-09T16:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T16:59:51.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>funny</title><content type='html'>funny how someone can pretend to care,&lt;br /&gt;but do things that make you want to die.&lt;br /&gt;funny how someone can say they love you,&lt;br /&gt;then walk away in the arms of someone else.&lt;br /&gt;funny how you can build your life around on person,&lt;br /&gt;and they dont care at all.&lt;br /&gt;funny how someone could stab you in the heart,&lt;br /&gt;then twist the blade.&lt;br /&gt;isnt it funny?&lt;br /&gt;see me laughing?&lt;br /&gt;its hilarious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113952239152555170?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113952239152555170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113952239152555170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113952239152555170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113952239152555170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/02/funny.html' title='funny'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113923127122422216</id><published>2006-02-06T04:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T17:02:42.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kill me now</title><content type='html'>yanno, i thought today was going to go a lot differently. last night was great - i got to drink with some really great friends and we had a lot of fun. thing is, i decided that last night with me in my state of inebriation was the best time to profess my undying love for my best friend. smart move, huh? well, you know how the story goes - he doesnt feel the same and we're still very much just friends and blah blah blah. sorry kids, no fairy tale ending there. i just wish i knew. i mean, i know that he's not going to take the initiavive - even if he &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; feel the same, which he doesnt. and because of that, i'm going to convince myself that theres still some shred of hope. i know its not rational. i dont care. it feeds my drive. feeds my diminishing will to keep going. feeds my pathetic ideas that i wont die alone. feeds my desire for something special. &lt;em&gt;god&lt;/em&gt; thats all i want. something special and meaningful. will i ever get it? probably not. thats why i have to pretend. i fucking hate pretending. it seems like i have to do a lot of it, though. especially now. i've always had to pretend i was okay. &lt;em&gt;alwyays.&lt;/em&gt; and now, after telling him all those things, i have to pretend that i dont love that boy with &lt;em&gt;every shred of my being&lt;/em&gt;. i love him so much, and it doesnt matter. i didnt change anything. it never does. &lt;em&gt;fuck.&lt;/em&gt; im gonna cry again... i've already cried too much. i've spent all day wasting those tears and yanno what? they dont change anything either. it doesnt matter that i will sob my eyes out, it doesnt matter that i will most likely cry myself to sleep tonight. none of that matters now and it wont change a thing. tomorrow morning, i will still love him with everything i have and he will still pretend like it doesnt bother him. i think it does, it &lt;em&gt;has&lt;/em&gt; to. if i was him, i wouldnt know what to do. i mean, if i was him, and was being persued by someone like me, what is there to do? what can you do when you're loved by a crazy girl full of unrequited love and false hope? i dont know what he's going to do. i just hope that he wont leave. he's the best friend i have in the world and i couldnt stand to lose him. thats why i hate myself so much for loving him - if anything drives him away or pulls us apart, this will be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;god. dont let him leave. i think i'd die if he did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;probably by my own doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;oh well ... goodnight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113923127122422216?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113923127122422216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113923127122422216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113923127122422216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113923127122422216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/02/kill-me-now.html' title='kill me now'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113917027631346899</id><published>2006-02-02T04:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T15:11:16.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>aaaand .... she's back</title><content type='html'>welp! did you think you got rid of me? think i offed myself? did you even care? did you even blink when i said i wanted to die, needed to die? does it matter? fuck no it doesnt. because a month from now, hell, an &lt;em&gt;hour&lt;/em&gt; from now, who the fuck knows where i'll be? who'll care? in all honesty, &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt;  really dont. like right now, i dont care. dont care that i'll have to get up in six hours or whatever and that i have a class in seven. dont care that my voice lesson is tomorrow. dont care that i've worked my fucking ASS off. none of it matters right now. dunno if it'll ever matter. FUCK it. i DONT care. i should, but i dont. and thats the sad truth. ha. sad truth. that seems to be my sweet little catch phrase lately. 'well, you're not worth SHIT and if you died tomorrow only a handful of people would notice. you think thats sad? well its the sad truth.' so, sad truth = a HUGE fuck you = the laws of the fucking universe are never fair. for the longest time i thought i was so far above it all, so wonderful and ethereal. now this angel's wings have been clipped, and here i lie, bloody, broken, and forced to drown in the shit piles i've made for myself. i would love nothing more than for someone, right now, wondering if i was okay, wondering how i was doing. i'd love to know that someone cared. someone, &lt;em&gt;anyone.&lt;/em&gt;  c'mon, any takers? &lt;em&gt;please. &lt;/em&gt;i'm BEGGING you. cant someone pull me out of this? cant someone just grab me by my shoulders and heave me out of all this? its not gonna happen. do you know how hard it is to pull yourself out of a hole when thie shit is up to your chest? im trying so hard to stay afloat, keep my head above it all. i've got nothing else to stand on but more bullshit and so i just keep on sinking. there are times where i think i have my footing, and as soon as i go to lift myself out, i come falling right back in. its a never ending cycle. as soon as i think things are better, they get fucked up again. i cant deal with this. i mean, honestly, im sitting in the fucking &lt;em&gt;laundry room&lt;/em&gt; writing this because i've got &lt;em&gt;nowhere else to go,&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;no one else to talk to.&lt;/em&gt; i cant write any more. im done writing. im done wondering. FUCK THIS SHIT, im going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;YANNO WHAT WORLD?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FUCK YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;ALL THE UNIVERSE IS A GREAT CUNT AND THE EARTH IS AN EVEN BIGGER DICK AND THEYRE &lt;strong&gt;FUCKING ME UP&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113917027631346899?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113917027631346899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113917027631346899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113917027631346899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113917027631346899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2006/02/aaaand-shes-back.html' title='aaaand .... she&apos;s back'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113471031053388757</id><published>2005-12-16T00:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T00:18:30.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>razor lips</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/1600/razor%20lips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6517/1861/320/razor%20lips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; instant love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113471031053388757?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113471031053388757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113471031053388757' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113471031053388757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113471031053388757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/razor-lips.html' title='razor lips'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113451988459645188</id><published>2005-12-13T22:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T19:25:28.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thats all i want</title><content type='html'>im sick of it. i cant stand knowing that im alone. i hate the fact that i cant remember the last time someone held me. not just hugged me, or put their arm around me, but really &lt;em&gt;held&lt;/em&gt; me. held me for so long that i could feel their touch lingering for long after they had left. i dont ask for much. i dont need much to be happy. all i want is for someone to hold me. someone to kiss my eyes and tell me that everything will be alright. thats all i ever wanted. is that too much to ask?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113451988459645188?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113451988459645188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113451988459645188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113451988459645188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113451988459645188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/thats-all-i-want.html' title='thats all i want'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113452022080682285</id><published>2005-12-13T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T19:30:20.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>want to hear something funny?</title><content type='html'>when im really upset, i binge on chocolate. i ate so much chocolate today that i threw up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113452022080682285?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113452022080682285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113452022080682285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113452022080682285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113452022080682285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/want-to-hear-something-funny.html' title='want to hear something funny?'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113434163436644192</id><published>2005-12-11T20:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T17:53:54.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whoops</title><content type='html'>i told myself i wasnt going to cut my arms today. i dont care. and i did it anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113434163436644192?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113434163436644192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113434163436644192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113434163436644192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113434163436644192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/whoops.html' title='whoops'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113433975734489937</id><published>2005-12-11T17:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T17:22:39.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>im done</title><content type='html'>god damn. i cant fucking live like this. i dont know how much longer i'll be able to hang on. nothing makes me happy anymore. oh sure, i have little fixes, little band-aids that make me happy. but as soon as i have a breif shower of anything sad, that happy little band-aid peels off and reveals my wounds. then it just gets worse. i can't stand things here. i left yesterday, and i want to leave again tonight. leave and never come back. i cant take it. i cant take &lt;em&gt;here. &lt;/em&gt;i want to cut myself so badly right now. the only reason i've stopped myself from cutting lately is because i dont want there to be questions when i go home. once again, i avoid the situation rather than confronting it. i loathe confrontation. confrontation leads to knowledge, and knowledge leads to pain. its true, ignorance &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; bliss. i'd rather not know anything but my own thoughts. then i could hide from the thoughts of others and once again, avoid confrontation.&lt;br /&gt;dear ignorance -&lt;br /&gt;i love you.&lt;br /&gt;signed - myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113433975734489937?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113433975734489937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113433975734489937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113433975734489937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113433975734489937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-done.html' title='im done'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113423342805522487</id><published>2005-12-10T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T11:50:28.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what now ... ?</title><content type='html'>last night was, among other things, totally awful. i was so excited to be spending time with steve. we went to a party together last night, and i had been looking forward to it ever since he had psuedo-asked me to go with him. see, he never really asked, he just hinted around. well, once we got there, it was fun for maybe an hour. after then, i just wanted to crawl into a corner and cry and hope that no one would bother me. being surrounded by people, that's sort of hard to do. i had to find out last night, while i was slightly tipsy and steve was on his was to being completely gone, that steve only thinks of me as a really good friend. ... yeah ... so that was my world ending right there. im very much at a loss of what to do now. i built everything around him, only for it to come falling down. i cut ties with other people because i thought that him and i had something special. i cant believe i was so stupid. i realized last night that i have so much love to give, and i keep giving it freely. however, no one is returning my love, and thus my love is less and less every day. sooner or later, im not going to have any love at all. maybe then i'll be able to shut off all of these wretched feelings i have. i would love nothing more than to be able to feel nothing at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113423342805522487?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113423342805522487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113423342805522487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113423342805522487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113423342805522487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/what-now.html' title='what now ... ?'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113396797953561511</id><published>2005-12-07T12:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-07T10:06:19.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my life as a rollercoaster</title><content type='html'>FUCK. i cant believe the people around me. some of them can be so wonderful, and i love them dearly. others, i just despise and the feeling is mutual. others still TORMENT me with their two-faced acts. if you love me, FUCKING TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. if you want nothing to do with me, let me know so i can stop WASTING MY FUCKING TIME. i cant stand people who are amazing when accompanied only by me, but then change when there are others around. so as of right now, this shall be my fuck you list. FUCK YOU nick. you say youre my friend, but youve taken away the one person that could make everything better. FUCK YOU bob. i mean honestly, who are you trying to impress? FUCK YOU sadie. i thought you loved me. i loved you. FUCK YOU steve. im not sure who you are anymore, or how you feel. i suppose i never knew. FUCK YOU. yes, you. ALL OF YOU. i was alright until &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; showed up. i was going to be okay until &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; got here. i had stopped CUTTING myself until &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; came into my life. im so fucking PISSED right now and all i want to do is slice up my arms and watch myself bleed. i want this for myself. i want it to pour out in gallons. i want to see my blood fall out of my arms like rain, and cover everything. i want to sob and scream and make a fuss. i want to shout 'LOOK FUCKERS THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO ME' but i know it wont change a damn thing. they dont care. they can fake it all they want. i used to fake it too, so i understand. gotta love the facade. i've let mine down, and with it, i let down my guard. in letting down my guard, i let in some of the most influential people that i've met. wanna know how they influence me? push up my shirt sleeves. you'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113396797953561511?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113396797953561511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113396797953561511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113396797953561511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113396797953561511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-life-as-rollercoaster.html' title='my life as a rollercoaster'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113390627572731891</id><published>2005-12-06T17:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T16:57:55.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>or something like that ...</title><content type='html'>i've decided that everything is okay. i'll be alright, and everything is fine with the world. for the first time in days, i've been happy, almost carefree. i pray that this is not the sense of euphoria that a person feels right before they sell their life to suicide. i pray, rather, that this will be a lasting happinees, at least until the holidays are over. i have to be happy for christmas. because then, i'll be surrounded by friends, family, acquaintances, people i've just met, and people i've yet to meet. christmas is the time for everyone to come out of the woodwork. its a time to sit at family gatherings and look at that one strange person and whisper behind your hand 'who invited whats-her-face?' or 'who's &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; related to?' but no one cares. thats the beauty of christmas - everyone is nice. everyone goes out of their way to help the fellow man. everyone does something nice, and everyone &lt;em&gt;gets&lt;/em&gt; something nice. maybe that's why i've been happy lately. maybe i got my gift early.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113390627572731891?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113390627572731891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113390627572731891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113390627572731891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113390627572731891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/12/or-something-like-that.html' title='or something like that ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113332172720794837</id><published>2005-11-29T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T22:35:27.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>god damn ...</title><content type='html'>in general life fucking sucks for me. like im so stressed out with everything and i've been skipping so many classes because i feel like i just cant face the world. i'll sit in my room for hours on end and just cry and i dont know what the hell is wrong with me. everything in my life feels so empty and all i want is for someone to love me ... honestly love me. not even romantic love, just love. i've been with way too many guys since i've gotten here and they've all been so empty and all they've done is make me feel worse. but i cant stop because im so desperate for that small connection that i'll do anything for it. if a guy will act like he cares about me for ten minutes, i'll do anything for those ten minutes. i am so fucking alone and i feel like there's not a damn thing i can do about it. i try to hang out with my "friends" more, but the more i'm around them, the more i realize that they're not really my friends. and when i'm in a big group of people, they tend to just plain forget that i'm there. i could be surrounded by people, but i still feel like i'm all alone. and you know what? i am really starting to doubt love in general. all in all, i want to die and i dont know to stop myself from feeling like that. im so scared that i'll act on impulse and just not wake up afterwards. i'm so scared of hurting myself again. i want to tear into my arms, just so that pain can be equalized. i think that i might go take a shower, just so i can cry. could someone please hide the razors and the scissors? no? alright then. i'll bring them into the shower with me. watch my blood get washed away. maybe it'll wash my problems away too. fuck the world. fuck it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113332172720794837?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113332172720794837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113332172720794837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113332172720794837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113332172720794837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/11/god-damn.html' title='god damn ...'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113329057809427635</id><published>2005-11-29T16:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T13:56:18.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this is for him</title><content type='html'>believe me&lt;br /&gt;anything happens&lt;br /&gt;you are flying&lt;br /&gt;i pretend I’m happy&lt;br /&gt;we dance in garden land&lt;br /&gt;you’ll always think I want you&lt;br /&gt;dark white winter&lt;br /&gt;cold light blue sky&lt;br /&gt;a pretty boy inside and out&lt;br /&gt;sad ghost behind the monster&lt;br /&gt;the perfect music is in his laugh&lt;br /&gt;shoot the full moon&lt;br /&gt;I see a rainbow of colors&lt;br /&gt;when I take his hand&lt;br /&gt;he is a dreamy wonder&lt;br /&gt;butterfly rose water&lt;br /&gt;you are my prince&lt;br /&gt;horrible child&lt;br /&gt;imagine the summer&lt;br /&gt;warm candy skin&lt;br /&gt;red hot but gentle&lt;br /&gt;wet cool rain cloud&lt;br /&gt;silent storm&lt;br /&gt;black blue morning&lt;br /&gt;whisper to the ocean&lt;br /&gt;sing to my window&lt;br /&gt;cry for me&lt;br /&gt;we’ll never be together&lt;br /&gt;play with this woman&lt;br /&gt;girl all alone&lt;br /&gt;tell the truth.&lt;br /&gt;i love the man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113329057809427635?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113329057809427635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113329057809427635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113329057809427635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113329057809427635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/11/this-is-for-him.html' title='this is for him'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113329025190617833</id><published>2005-11-29T16:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T20:51:58.626-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hm ... yes</title><content type='html'>well, the last couple days have been sort of a roller coaster. one minute i'll be completely happy, and the next i'll be sobbing my eyes out. god &lt;em&gt;damn&lt;/em&gt; i hate this place. im so ready to get out of here. i keep having to tell myself - only three more weeks and i can go home for christmas break. it was nice to be home over thanksgiving break, but i was glad to come back to bg. isn't that funny? i can't wait to leave, but after i do, i can't wait to come back. i think i'm just one of those people who'll never be happy. i always want what i don't have. ugh. god dammit. so, once again, i sit in my room and long for things that i'll never have and wish i never wanted the things i already posess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113329025190617833?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113329025190617833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113329025190617833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113329025190617833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113329025190617833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/11/hm-yes.html' title='hm ... yes'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113237329498028418</id><published>2005-11-19T02:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T23:08:14.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>broken</title><content type='html'>that's it. that's all i can take. i don't even know what the FUCK is wrong with me. i'm sitting in my room, alone, crying. and i can't fucking stop. right now it's just me sitting in the dark, sobbing my eyes out. and i don't know why. i have no idea what the hell is wrong. i don't know what my problem, or what i'm doing wrong. my life is a mess - i'm so depressed and i don't know what to do about it. when i'm around other people, i'm alright. when there's someone else with me and i know that they love me, i'm okay. as soon as i shut the door behind me, and get alone, i break. my life is like a fucking roller coaster. one minute, i couldn't be happier. the next, i'm crying for no apparent reason. i'm surrounded by people, and i'm still so alone. i wish i knew what to do. i wish i has the courage to admit that i'm fucked up, and then get some help. i know i need it, but getting help would be admitting that i'm not alright. aren't i a hypocrite? ya gotta love me. i know i'm not alright, but i'm so scared to admit it. to admit it would be letting the world know that i'm not as strong as everyone thinks i am. at least, i &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; that everyone sees me as a strong individual. very few people have seen me break, and that's how i like it. and yet, i'm telling the world my feelings on this damn blog. whatever. it's not like anyone reads this fucking thing. hm ... know what? i'm not crying anymore. i suppose i'm feeling a little bit better, now that i've got all my feelings out. wanna know something else? i've been running this idea through my head a lot lately. remember steve? the guy who made my days so much better? yeah. i've been spending a lot of time with him, and when i'm with him, everything's okay. i've never been sad when i'm around him. my worst times are when i have to give that hug goodbye, and i don't know when i'll see him next. in all honesty, i think i just might love him. i'm not sure though. i wish i knew how he felt about me. oh well, i'm sure it'll come all in good time. although, i wish it'd come now. i think that he could be the one to bring me out of all this. god damn. i fucking hate this. i hate myself. one of these days, i'll be able to sit in a room by myself and not cry. i hope that day is soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113237329498028418?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113237329498028418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113237329498028418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113237329498028418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113237329498028418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/11/broken.html' title='broken'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18912436.post-113225466328524838</id><published>2005-11-17T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T14:12:54.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yeah ... i'm faking it</title><content type='html'>it never ceases to amaze me how quickly a smile can fade from my lips. completely unannounced a smile comes to play. i make eye contanct with someone. we smile at each other in a beautifully awkward moment. as soon as we pass, the smile trickles off of the corners of my mouth. it slides down my neck, down my chest. as it falls over my heart, it skips a beat and suddenly my entire body is cold, just as it was a few moments ago. it continues to fall down my stomach, down my legs and finally to the floor. as i walk on, my left shoe grinds it into the cheap industrial carpet. it's over. it was all a lie. i dread the next time i have to pass someone, and meet their eyes with mine. the little play will start all over again. it's full of great characters, but always  ends in tragedy. i wish i didn't have to fake it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18912436-113225466328524838?l=ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/feeds/113225466328524838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18912436&amp;postID=113225466328524838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113225466328524838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18912436/posts/default/113225466328524838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ineveraskedformuch.blogspot.com/2005/11/yeah-im-faking-it.html' title='yeah ... i&apos;m faking it'/><author><name>Amanda Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13143964818202179943</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
