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		<title>Literature Network Forums - Blogs - Life by Anza</title>
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			<title>Speed</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12087-Speed</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 28 Nov 2011 15:33:30 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[This was a short essay written in my First-Year Seminar, "USA: The Natural Experiment." It's basically "how did we screw up the environment and where...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font size="4"><div style="margin-left:40px"><font color="DarkSlateBlue">This was a short essay written in my First-Year Seminar, &quot;USA: The Natural Experiment.&quot; It's basically &quot;how did we screw up the environment and where do we go from here?&quot; We study the environment from historical, economic, political, conservational, (et cetera) perspective. In the first week of class, we took a bike ride around town and came upon a tiny, abandoned kitten. Our professor stopped the entire class so that a friend and I could rescue said kitten and rerouted our course so that we could stop by a veterinary clinic and drop her off. The essay focuses on speed in the American economy and culture. Enjoy!</font><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">_.~*~._</div><br />
<font color="Sienna">	Too fast—the cars were going too fast to see the kitten, or even hear its tiny cries for help. <i>Mew! </i>I’m hungry. <i>Mew!</i> I am afraid. None of us knows how may hours the tiny kitten cried in a bush or how she ended up there. It wasn’t until late in the hot afternoon that a bicycling class of college freshmen led by an adventurous professor would come and find the helpless baby.<br />
<br />
	It wasn’t that the commuters were hard-hearted, nor was it that they wouldn’t have stopped. Most were simply unaware, and such is the risk of speed. We miss out on a lot, the faster we are. We cannot notice problems. Like in driving, wherein it is harder to stop for a child who runs into the street while flying down the road at 70 miles per hour than it is at 35 miles per hour.<br />
<br />
	Our economy is too fast, and too global. Instead of using local businesses, we reach for the comfort of familiarity and lower prices of large chain stores. Orr uses an example of Oberlin, Ohio to illustrate his point, but the concept is both universal and localized: even Deland has its own version of the same story. <br />
A McDonalds crops up first, and then a Walmart. The corporations move in, “to the periphery where land is cheaper and zoning regulations are more lax” (Orr 46). The automobile bridges the gap between homes and businesses, where once the proximity of downtown small businesses served the same purpose. <br />
<br />
       Not only does this kill the small business, but it also makes the population rely undeniably on the automobile. Where once you could walk from home or park in a community parking lot and run by the post office, grocery story, and flower shop by foot, people must drive long distances to get to any one store.<br />
<br />
       Additionally, local businesses receive a serious blow. “Money does not stay in the local economy for long,” Orr explains. “Hence the multiplier effect or the number of times a dollar is spent in the local economy before being used to purchase something outside is low” (Orr 46). <br />
In downtown Deland, businesses don’t hire in the summer time. As a matter of fact, it is a miracle if a business even survives the long, hot days without any customers. It is not a matter of growth; it is a matter of survival. <br />
<br />
In our economy today, if we are not growing exponentially, we suspect that something is wrong with the business. Large corporations grow, and are expected to grow steadily. We do not understand a system where a successful company is defined as one that is constant, or even slow growing.<br />
<br />
      And so we don’t hear people crying out in homelessness, loneliness, fear, desperation; we don’t hear businesses cry out in the scorching summer months and economic droughts. <i>Mew!</i> I’m hungry. <i>Mew!</i> I am afraid.</font></div></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12087-Speed</guid>
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			<title>Please Leave a Message After the Beep</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12057-Please-Leave-a-Message-After-the-Beep</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 15 Nov 2011 03:45:53 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[So, I'll not be online much until next week. 
 
I've written 7 of the over 30 pages I'll have to write over the next few days. Several smaller...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><div style="text-align: center;"><font size="4"><font color="Brown">So, I'll not be online much until next week.<br />
<br />
I've written 7 of the over 30 pages I'll have to write over the next few days. Several smaller essays, a research paper, and others..<br />
<br />
I have 13 chapters from various classes to read, from a terribly dry American Government textbook to novels, to the Bible.<br />
<br />
I have a test in Intro to Biblical Lit to study for.<br />
<br />
All before Friday.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And I'm working 3 jobs.<br />
<br />
<br />
Please shoot me. It would be more merciful than this.<br />
<br />
But I haven't been online here in forever, so if you have any questions, ask away! Also, I will leave you with a picture of my handsome boyfriend :) </font></font><br />
<br />
<img src="http://a2.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/228657_1744278128555_1286798349_31558211_632799_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12057-Please-Leave-a-Message-After-the-Beep</guid>
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			<title><![CDATA[Something You'll Rarely Hear a Woman Say]]></title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12047-Something-You-ll-Rarely-Hear-a-Woman-Say</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 08 Nov 2011 20:06:27 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>_Author’s Note:_ Many of you know me as a very strong and independent woman. I am capable of many things of which men are capable. I am willing to...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua"><font size="3"><u>Author’s Note:</u> Many of you know me as a very <font color="Green">strong</font> and <font color="Green">independent</font> woman. I am <font color="green">capable</font> of many things of which <font color="Blue">men</font> are <font color="green">capable</font>. I am <font color="Green">willing</font> to <font color="DarkOrchid">speak</font>, <font color="green">willing</font> to <font color="DarkOrchid">work</font>, <font color="green">willing</font> to <font color="DarkOrchid">act</font>. I do not mean, in this note, that a <font color="Magenta">woman</font> should not be <font color="Green">strong</font> and that she should not be <font color="green">capable</font>, for indeed I strive and encourage other women to strive to be both. However, there is a time for <font color="green">strength</font> and there is a time to <font color="RoyalBlue">yield</font>. There is no shame in yielding. When you find a husband who will treat you right and look out for the good of his family and you over himself, he is one who deserves the respect and even submission I write about.</font><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><font color="Green"><font size="3">_.~*~._</font></font></div><font size="3">Yes, I am a <font color="Magenta">woman</font>. Yes, I am <font color="Green">strong</font>. No, I am not <font color="Silver">brainwashed</font>. Yes, I speak for myself and with my <i>own</i> convictions.<br />
 <br />
We will begin with Proverbs 31:10-31.</font><br />
 <br />
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				10Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.<br />
 11The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.<br />
 12She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.<br />
 13She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.<br />
 14She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.<br />
 15She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.<br />
 16She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.<br />
 17She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.<br />
 18She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.<br />
 19She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.<br />
 20She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.<br />
 21She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.<br />
 22She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.<br />
 23Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.<br />
 24She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.<br />
 25Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.<br />
 26She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.<br />
 27She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.<br />
 28Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.<br />
 29Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.<br />
 30Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.<br />
 31Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.
			
		</div>
	</div>
</div><font size="3">Here is a description of a <font color="green">godly</font> and <font color="green">perfect</font> woman. Is she once described as <font color="Silver">weak</font>? Is she once described as one who will easily be <font color="silver">abused</font>? Certainly not. Instead it says, she is extremely <font color="green">valuable</font>—more so than rubies, in fact. <font color="green">Independent</font> of her husband’s help, she buys a field and plants a vineyard: she must be <font color="green">intelligent</font>, then, if she <font color="green">considers</font> the field herself, <font color="green">decides</font> that the soil is good for planting, <font color="green">negotiates</font> the price, buys the field herself, and plants a vineyard. Vineyards require much labor. You have to train the vines to a framework you have built yourself so that the vines will be held up by the framework.  She must be <font color="green">strong</font>, then, this perfect woman—indeed, it says that she girds herself with <font color="green">strength</font> and strengthens her arms. She <font color="green">looks after</font> all of her household, and all the stuff in her household: the electricity doesn’t get shut off at her house, and in ancient times, she <font color="green">ensures</font> that there is enough oil for all her lamps.  She sews, and weaves, cooks and cleans, and <font color="green">oversees</font> her household. She is a <font color="green">hard worker</font> and doesn’t eat “the bread of idleness.” She helps the poor and needy. She <font color="green">takes care</font> of all her household, ensuring that they are well-dressed, especially with regard to winter which, in ancient times would require a lot of fabric having been laboriously made for not only her family, but the servants of her household, too. She makes her own clothes too. She is <font color="green">industrious</font> and <font color="green">skilled</font>. She works from home, weaving and sewing and selling the work of her own hands to the merchants. She is a woman of <font color="green">strength</font> and <font color="green">honor</font>. She speaks with <font color="green">wisdom</font> and <font color="green">kindness</font>. She is <font color="green">praiseworthy</font>. Her husband and children “arise up and call her <font color="green">blessed</font>.”<br />
 <br />
Many look at the word submit and think that a woman who submits must be <font color="silver">weak</font>. I will tell you, as gently as possible, that you are <font color="silver">misguided</font>. It takes great <font color="Green">strength</font> and <font color="green">wisdom</font> to know when to yield. It is not a matter of <font color="Silver">blindly agreeing</font> with your husband, nor of<font color="silver"> unwillingly following</font>. It is a matter of <font color="Green">trusting</font> his decisions, when he is firm in them and they are right with <font color="Yellow">God</font>.<br />
 <br />
I try to stay away from non-biblical sources, but there’s a line in Moulin Rouge that has always stuck with me: <font color="Red">“Without trust, there is no love.”</font> If you cannot <font color="DarkOrange">trust</font> your husband to lead you with everyone’s best interest in mind, what is your relationship based upon?<br />
 <br />
Now, we will skip to another source.  Here is 1 Corinthians 11:3.</font><br />
 <br />
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				3 But I want you to realize that the head of every man is Christ, and the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God.
			
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</div><font size="3">Here, it clearly states that a man is the <font color="Blue">head</font> of the woman. Where the <font color="Magenta">body</font> obeys the <font color="Blue">head</font>, so too should the <font color="Magenta">woman</font> obey the <font color="Blue">man</font>. This should not be necessary most of the time in a relationship. In fact, every day life does not call for such measures. In any marriage, <font color="White">communication</font> is key. In times of trouble, however, or when the two cannot arrive at an agreement, or when a very big decision is to be made, the <font color="Magenta">wife</font> is to <font color="DarkOrange">trust</font> her <font color="Blue">husband’s</font> decisions.<br />
 <br />
This is not a license for the husband to <font color="Red">abuse</font> his wife in any way. This is not a license for him to be a <font color="red">tyrant</font>. Ephesians explains this very well:<br />
 <br />
Ephesians 5: 21-24</font><br />
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				21 Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.<br />
 22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.
			
		</div>
	</div>
</div><font size="3">There is the <font color="Magenta">woman’s</font> role. This is often quoted, but you rarely hear the second half—the <font color="Blue">husband’s</font> role.<br />
 <br />
Ephesians 5:25-33</font><br />
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				25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her 26 to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, 27 and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. 28 In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29 After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— 30 for we are members of his body. 31 “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.”[c] 32 This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. 33 However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.
			
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</div><font size="3"><font color="blue">Husbands</font> must love their <font color="Magenta">wives</font> as Christ does the church. Christ presented himself as a living sacrifice, and a savior to the world. So too must <font color="blue">husbands</font> give everything of themselves to their <font color="Magenta">wives</font> and families. They must love with the forgiveness, mercy, compassion, and purity of Christ. They must <font color="DeepSkyBlue">lead</font> their families <font color="YellowGreen">spiritually</font>, provide for them <font color="YellowGreen">financially</font>, support them <font color="YellowGreen">emotionally</font>, and so much more. They must care for their <font color="Magenta">wives</font> as they care for their own <font color="Magenta">bodies</font>. What a big job!<br />
 <br />
And wives, if your husbands are successful in all these things—indeed, even if he is <i>striving</i> for all these things—you should be <font color="Green">grateful</font>, <font color="green">respectful</font>, <font color="green">loving</font> and <font color="green">submissive</font>. Your actions, thoughts, and words towards him should be <font color="green">kindness</font> and <font color="green">encouragement</font>. You should trust him to do the right thing.<br />
 <br />
I do not just cite sources from the Bible. I have tried living this in my own relationship with Nicholas. And you know what? It works.<br />
 <br />
In over a year, I have been <font color="Red">mad</font> at him only <font color="Yellow">twice</font>. We have occasional <font color="red">friction</font> and occasional <font color="red">distance</font> in our relationship, especially since I have moved to college so far away, but we have <font color="yellow">never</font> once fought. We are <font color="yellow">chaste</font>, but still exceedingly <font color="yellow">loving</font> and <font color="yellow">passionate</font>. We <font color="yellow">respect</font> each other, come to agreements <font color="yellow">quickly</font>, and act as a <font color="RoyalBlue">team</font>.<br />
 <br />
A [COLOR=&quot;rgb(65, 105, 225)&quot;]team[/COLOR]? <b>Absolutely</b>. In our every day life, we walk alongside each other. When he is <font color="silver">weak</font>, I am <font color="Green">strong</font>; when I am <font color="Silver">weak</font>, he is <font color="green">strong</font>. We give each other equal <font color="green">love</font> and <font color="green">respect</font>. We <font color="Yellow">strive</font>, both of us, to <font color="RoyalBlue">honor</font> <font color="yellow">God</font> and to [COLOR=&quot;rgb(65, 105, 225)&quot;]honor[/COLOR] each other.<br />
 <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">However:</div> <br />
There are times in our relationship when I need to step <font color="Magenta">back</font> and allow him to step <font color="Blue">forward</font>. And when I act in such a manner, he does step forward. He puts <i>every fiber of his being</i> into whatever challenge we face and is strengthened by my <font color="Green">support</font>.  And we are <font color="Yellow">successful</font>.</font><br />
 <br />
<font size="3"><u>End Note and Food for Thought:</u> <font color="Magenta">Women</font>, because such a relationship is based on such a strong foundation of trust, I urge you to rethink your dating preferences. Are you looking for a <font color="Silver">good time</font>? Are you looking for a <font color="silver">fun relationship</font>? Or are you considering a man that you would <font color="Green">marry</font> and be willing to <font color="green">trust</font> so completely?<br />
 <br />
We women don’t like to fall; it scares us. It reminds us that we are fragile. So why, then, would you search for someone whom you do not know would do everything in his power to catch you?</font></span></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12047-Something-You-ll-Rarely-Hear-a-Woman-Say</guid>
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			<title>Blast from the past?</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12028-Blast-from-the-past</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2011 04:28:09 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[I haven't blogged here in ages-- not even the smilies are all the same. But I wonder: have you missed me? Is there any of the old crew left? 
 
    ...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS"><font size="4">     I haven't blogged here in ages-- not even the <font color="Yellow">smilies</font> are all the same. But I wonder: have you <font color="Silver">missed</font> me? Is there any of the old crew left?<br />
<br />
     I'm in <font color="SeaGreen">college</font>, now. Does anyone remember the troubled girl of high school? She's still in here, somewhere-- same <font color="White">crazy</font> family, same <font color="white">crazy</font> life-- but she's changed.<br />
<br />
     God put me through a <font color="DarkOrange">fire</font>, my old comrades. The remaining years of high school have been a blur. I finally got out of the relationship with Thomas, finally came to terms with the fact that it was <font color="Red">abusive</font> in every way possible and that <font color="Cyan">love shouldn't hurt</font>. <br />
<br />
     I've converted to Christianity. †<br />
<br />
     My mother went to jail. I spent last <font color="Red">C</font><font color="SeaGreen">h</font><font color="Red">r</font><font color="SeaGreen">i</font><font color="Red">s</font><font color="SeaGreen">t</font><font color="Red">m</font><font color="SeaGreen">a</font><font color="Red">s</font> eve there visiting. She's out now and-- woe betide us-- back with my father.<br />
<br />
     I've been dating this wonderful man for a little over a year now. <font color="white">Crazy</font>, isn't it? How time flies? We're &quot;practically engaged,&quot; but since I moved to college, long-disance. I never dreamed that we would manage it so well. I mean, we have our challenges, but it is minimal compared to what it could be.<br />
<br />
     I'm at Stetson. Never thought I'd make it into a selective, Liberal-arts, private college. <br />
<br />
     I've lost weight. About 30 pounds of it since I was here last. I look like this now:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://a2.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/302108_2558992533364_1210535713_33083523_941351022_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><br />
     I have a job-- kinda. At a photography studio. I do clerical/custodial/photo taking/video taking/photo editing/video editing/modeling. It looks like I'll be needing/getting 2 more soon.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><font color="LemonChiffon">I wonder if anyone will ever actually read this...</font></div></font></span></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?12028-Blast-from-the-past</guid>
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			<title>Thanks for the adventure :)</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8938-Thanks-for-the-adventure-)</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2009 22:18:49 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[I went with my friend, Marc. He's three years older than I, and we've been very good friends since I was in sixth grade. He's like the big brother my...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkRed"><font size="4">I went with my friend, Marc. He's three years older than I, and we've been very good friends since I was in sixth grade. He's like the big brother my parents were never able to give me. First we looked around at the remains of the nearby Spanish fort San Marcos, and found some pottery, plate chips, and bone by the water. It has no archaeological value because it was not in a layer of sediment, but we did not keep it, anyway. We had to kayak a little over a mile downriver, and against the incoming tide to get to the Port. It was very hard kayaking. We ended up singing &quot;Just Around the Riverbend&quot; from Pochahontas, and &quot;Colors of the Wind,&quot; for fun. We got there, and trudged around the wilderness, finding remains of the town. Foundations, posts, trenches. We were at the edge of the forest, where it meets the marsh and saw a huge black thing in the marsh, very close. We were downwind, luckily, and edged through the high grass for a better look. We thought it was a Florida Black Bear. It was huge. Suddenly, it looked up. And it was a hog! I got a couple crappy shots with my camera (he looked away every time I would take the picture) and after he ran off we were on our way. We went over to the where the railroad tracks once were, and where they crossed a creek. The embankment rose straight out of the swamp. It was 5-6 feet high, and more than 8 feet wide. &quot;Cotton built this,&quot; he said. &quot;Solid ground straight out of nothing. The poor built this, and the slaves built this.&quot; And think about it. Before all the wealthy merchants came and built upon their foundation, who fought the wilderness, and the Native Americans, and the pitch black nights, and harsh summers here, but the pioneers? The poor, and the outcast came and made something rise from nothing, and as quickly as they had built it, mother nature took it away. A hurricane came through, and killed the town basically. It already had the same problems of Jamestown. It was built on a swamp, there was disease, poor drainage, wildlife. And one hurricane brought down the whole place. <br />
It had been blockaded in the Civil War. <br />
It had been the seat of power of Wakulla County.<br />
It had been a trading post.<br />
It had been.<br />
And now what lives no longer is but a ghost-- beautiful, and strange, and diminished, at once. Merely shadows of what doesn't belong that we know to be man's mark left on the area.<br />
We then went to Wakulla Beach, nearby. There was the foundation, and old Romanesque columns of a hotel, abandoned and torn down in the 1940s. We sat on the foundation, wondering what grandeur it would have been in the 30s. What room would we sit in? Was this the foyer? What grand art would we have sat among?<br />
Soon after, we went home.<br />
I'm exhausted out of my mind, and so sore, I cannot move.<br />
But, God... it was beautiful.</font></font><br />
<br />
Pictures soon.</blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8938-Thanks-for-the-adventure-)</guid>
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			<title>Something my Love said of me</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8849-Something-my-Love-said-of-me</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2009 14:41:04 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[If you have facebook, you have likely heard of "Honesty Box" which allows people to write anonymously about others. I have been getting a lot of...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkRed"><font size="4">If you have facebook, you have likely heard of &quot;Honesty Box&quot; which allows people to write anonymously about others. I have been getting a lot of positive responses, lately, and I needed some positivity last night. I got only one response by the time I awoke this morning, which made me kind of sad, until I read it...</font></font><br />
<br />
<font color="Green"><font size="3">&quot;What can be said about a woman such as yourself? Perhaps I could exclaim upon your beauty? No, too obvious. Remark upon your gentle nature? Amateur stuff. To call you the wind beneath my wings maybe? Getting closer. <br />
What makes you special, cannot be defined in any words in the English, or any other language. It's the undefinable something, that will always make you that... special something. You seek to save the world on a constant basis, though you're never rewarded for it. <br />
You sacrifice for the world selflessly even though they turn their back on you often. Even punish you. But still you endure, pressing forward for the sake of the greater good. <br />
You seek the truth when the truth is hidden. You seek to give knowledge to everyone, as did Prometheus, and you suffer the same fate as he often. Well. Close. <br />
You grace this wretched world by even setting foot on it. Every morning you awaken a new light shines upon it, because of you. And yes, even in my life you shine the same light. A feat I before thought was impossible. <br />
From me and everyone else on the planet I'm sure, thank you for blessing us with your light. <br />
Not very anonymous am I? <br />
Signed, <br />
Your not so secret admirer&quot;<br />
</font></font><br />
<br />
<font size="4"><font color="DarkRed">He's such an angel.</font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8849-Something-my-Love-said-of-me</guid>
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			<title>A few of my (least and most)favorite things</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8818-A-few-of-my-(least-and-most)favorite-things</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 30 Aug 2009 18:01:23 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>:banana::banana:A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS:banana: 
 
 
Hummingbirds: 
Well, I have decided to give Sappho and Virgil a little break from my...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="Black"><font size="4"><font color="RoyalBlue">:banana:<div style="text-align: center;">:banana:A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS:banana:</div></font><br />
<br />
<font color="Blue">Hummingbirds:</font><br />
<font size="3">Well, I have decided to give Sappho and Virgil a little break from my persistent paparazzi-ism, and let the tiny celebrities be for a bit.<br />
It isn't like they wish to cooperate, anyway.<br />
I can play cello in my room, and they will still come, even be right at the window, but once the camera comes out, they dematerialize.</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000ff">Corsets:</font><br />
<font size="3">My corset came in from England, and it is SUPER spiffy. I paid $90 ish including shipping, which seems a lot, but it is a $300 corset.<br />
Pinstriped, and AMAZING. In a week, I am wearing it at an expert level (4 inch waist reduction) without pain.<br />
Here's a public link to my album on Facebook --&gt;</font> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=195131&amp;id=1210535713&amp;l=62ddb992b5" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.facebook.com/album.php?ai...3&amp;l=62ddb992b5</a><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000ff">Cats:</font><br />
<font size="3">Callie, the evil demon cat has come to like me, and has been taking refuge in my room for the past few days while Sunny's kitten (whom I have grown to detest) was at Grandma's, torturing her relentlessly. I'll be sure to post a picture of her, soon-- she's most beautiful.</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000ff">That Certain Boy I'm (Still) Ever So Crazy About<b></b>:</font><br />
<font size="3">I absolutely love how he never gets off the phone without saying I love you twice. He always notices every little good thing I do, and praises me for it, especially my patience with other people. He's trying to convince me that I'm perfect.<br />
The craziest thing of all? He doesn't think he's good enough for me.</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000ff">Orchestra:</font><br />
<font size="3">We have a bunch of cellists, again!!! And a spiffy intern. And Sunshine... especially Sunshine. :)</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#0000ff">Colleges:</font><br />
<font size="3">I got my first &quot;we want you&quot; letter from a college, yesterday. It came from Washington University in St. Louis. I'm not going to go out of state, but it's a nice thought, and it makes me feel super smart.</font><br />
<br />
<font color="DarkRed"><div style="text-align: center;">:rage:A FEW OF MY LEAST FAVORITE THINGS:rage:</div></font>:rage:<br />
<br />
<font color="Red">Sisters:</font><br />
<font size="3">Mine decided to block all the website I use most often, because she didn't like that I needed the laptop for school. This, while she is about to get the brand new laptop, because I'm done arguing with her, ever. Never minding that she messed up the power cord, and speakers on this one.</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#ff0000">School:</font><br />
<font size="3">My new Latin teacher is Phaethon at the reins of Apollo's chariot. And she's going to SO fail. We really need Bebergal back. <br />
My new journalism teacher is about to get her class taken away from her. She doesn't teach anyway, so the editors are taking over.<br />
Both are fresh out of college.<br />
My other classes are obnoxious. To make my schedule work, I am taking regular level American History, Chemistry, and Algebra. They happened to be my first three classes, respectively. I can't handle that much stupidity in a three hour block.<br />
</font><br />
<br />
<font color="#ff0000">Boys:</font><br />
<font size="3">Will they ever stop flirting? I have more suitors than friends. Make it go away!!!</font></font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8818-A-few-of-my-(least-and-most)favorite-things</guid>
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			<title>Hummingbirds, Day II</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8775-Hummingbirds-Day-II</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2009 15:10:55 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[Well, they continue to taunt me, and grandma is beginning to wonder about me talking to myself, and them... 
"I am going to get a picture of you!!!"...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">Well, they continue to taunt me, and grandma is beginning to wonder about me talking to myself, and them...<br />
&quot;I am going to get a picture of you!!!&quot;<br />
Oh, man... I really should at least feign sanity.<br />
<br />
Virgil drinking, yesterday. He was looking at me between the time I clicked the camera button, and the picture took. They're so fast!!<br />
<img src="http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=74&amp;pictureid=4829" border="0" alt="" /><br />
<br />
VIRGIL!! I got a picture of him, this morning! It isn't very good, but he didn't dematerialize. I think it's a win.<br />
<img src="http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=74&amp;pictureid=4828" border="0" alt="" /><br />
<br />
The little girl. I have tentatively named her Sappho.<br />
<img src="http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=74&amp;pictureid=4827" border="0" alt="" /></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8775-Hummingbirds-Day-II</guid>
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			<title>The Saga Begins</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8772-The-Saga-Begins</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 21 Aug 2009 19:15:51 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[I've moved in with grandma, and there is a hummingbird feeder outside my window... 
Now I have become determined to get a perfect picture of the cute...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkRed"><font size="3">I've moved in with grandma, and there is a hummingbird feeder outside my window...<br />
Now I have become determined to get a perfect picture of the cute little couple. And for some reason, I am reminded of Litnet by my new pursuit.<br />
Here is a picture I got this morning of the female in the rain... <br />
<img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs129.snc1/5534_1240767818570_1210535713_30719454_3442588_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><br />
<br />
The male gives me the most inquisitive looks when I get my camera. He is almost offended, even-- it's adorable.<br />
As the camera was loading once this morning, he hovered, facing me-- as soon as the camera was loaded, he was gone.<br />
<br />
I swear he's taunting me.<br />
<br />
I'd like to name them-- any suggestions?</font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8772-The-Saga-Begins</guid>
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			<title>Blaaawg!</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8617-Blaaawg!</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 24 Jul 2009 20:51:51 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[Yeah, again, it's been forever. I've been preparing for Nationals-- I leave tomorrow, at like 3 in the morning. Sounds fun, right? 
I'll be taking a...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">Yeah, again, it's been forever. I've been preparing for Nationals-- I leave tomorrow, at like 3 in the morning. Sounds fun, right?<br />
I'll be taking a plane.<br />
To Sacramento.<br />
And spending a week out there.<br />
Who's psyched? I am!</blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8617-Blaaawg!</guid>
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			<title><![CDATA[Anza's Back]]></title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8481-Anza-s-Back</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 04 Jul 2009 04:15:14 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[Yeah, I suck at being around... 
Sorry. 
I've missed you guys, though. And I have no idea where to start on updates, so pelt away! 
Ask me anything!...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font size="7"><font color="Green">Yeah, I suck at being around...<br />
Sorry.<br />
I've missed you guys, though. And I have no idea where to start on updates, so pelt away!<br />
Ask me anything! :D</font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8481-Anza-s-Back</guid>
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			<title><![CDATA[I'm not a princess/ this ain't a faery tale]]></title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8084-I-m-not-a-princess-this-ain-t-a-faery-tale</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 24 Apr 2009 22:30:17 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[I don't know why, but somehow, for some reason... 
I thought things would get better. 
I have a great boyfriend. There's not the chemistry there that...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font size="4"><font color="DarkGreen">I don't know why, but somehow, for some reason...<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">I thought things would get better.</div>I have a great boyfriend. There's not the chemistry there that there ever was with Thomas. but I am happy, it's a good relationship.<br />
I have friends who care about me.<br />
<br />
but.<br />
<br />
I feel most alone when I'm surrounded.<br />
<br />
<ul><li style="">Mom is &quot;moving out in May&quot;</li><li style="">They therefore want me home</li><li style="">with dad, alone</li><li style="">But they don't want Sunny back</li><li style="">Sunshine and I seem to be drifting</li><li style="">Mom got a new bird-- don't they do background checks in pet stores?</li><li style="">I won the election for Florida Junior Classical League Historian, but unless I can come up with $800 in a week for Nationals, I'll have to resign the position</li></ul><br />
<br />
Dad already chose her over us. I'm not going back.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to prom. No one asked me. F*** them all.<br />
<br />
I cried in 3rd and 4th periods. I'm behind in all of my classes. As it stands, my GPA is down to 3.1, and I need a 3.2 t be in AP classes. I used to have a 3.5833. I guess I just had a moment.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm losing it.</font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8084-I-m-not-a-princess-this-ain-t-a-faery-tale</guid>
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			<title>The World seems not the same/ but I know nothing has changed</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8009-The-World-seems-not-the-same-but-I-know-nothing-has-changed</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 14 Apr 2009 20:06:50 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[Hey guys! 
Spring break was hell at first, because Mom was trying to keep me from a leadership retreat (RYLA). I won't go into the awful details, but...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font size="4"><font color="DarkGreen">Hey guys!<br />
Spring break was hell at first, because Mom was trying to keep me from a leadership retreat (RYLA). I won't go into the awful details, but it sucked. <br />
I went anyway.<br />
In Milton, Florida. With 73 of the most amazing people I have ever met. And on the way back (we were carpooling) a friend of mine of about a year asked me out.<br />
I was slipping back to Thomas, but something about it seemed so... <i>right</i>. I told him I'd withold judgement until after I had seen the situation at home. At the time, mom and dad were demanding me back.<br />
I was never demanded back, and I took him up on it. <br />
It's my birthday and he's taking me out for dinner and a movie, tonight. He's sixteen, his name is Tyler. <br />
And I welcome you grilling me about him, because there's nothing bad about him. :)<br />
He sends me love songs all the time, we talk every night, and he loves me. I love him. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I'm starting to believe it. He goes to a different school, but it's okay. He can out talk me, out think me... it's wonderful. And he's even more confident than I am. Great sense of humor. An Eagle Scout. <br />
Here he is, with his ex-girlfriend.<br />
<img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v190/29/11/1130675798/n1130675798_46639_2369.jpg" border="0" alt="" /> <br />
When he introduced me to her, I was mortified. I had met him a few weeks before state and kind of liked him (understatement). Then by State he was with her, and she's one of those polished girls, and I was kicking myself for ever thinking I had a chance. Ironically, I found out that he liked me a lot from the start, too, but didn't think <i>he</i> had a chance at me.<br />
We've really hit it off.<br />
And even though my mother is still psycho.<br />
my dad is still a doormat.<br />
my sister still takes out her frustrations on me.<br />
I'm okay.<br />
I'm happy. <br />
Finally. :)</font></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8009-The-World-seems-not-the-same-but-I-know-nothing-has-changed</guid>
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			<title>Sos</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?7746-Sos</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 17 Mar 2009 03:26:49 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[Love, I am not taking advantage of them if they cannot function without me. I am home. They demanded me home last night. Not in a "we made a mistake...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">Love, I am not taking advantage of them if they cannot function without me. I am home. They demanded me home last night. Not in a &quot;we made a mistake and we need you&quot; sort of way, but dad said in no uncertain terms, verbatim &quot;get your *** home.&quot; I have not cried as much in the past three years as I have last night and today. I cried myself to sleep last night, cried before school, first period, second period, at lunch, fifth period, after school, when I first got home... now that I'm home, it is every time I'm alone. I hate it here. I hate my mom. When I grow and have children, she shall never see them. She shall not be at my wedding. She'll not be at my graduation. When I grow up, she will be out of my life. I am a commodity to her, and not a priority in my own household; she is therefore dead to me. She is an unfit parent, and I am finally fed up with it all. Dad can whine, and *****, and yell, but he had a choice to marry her, and he has a choice at any time to get out. If she tries to start **** with me, I will fight back. If she grabs me ever again, I shall not forget my current fury; I shall hit her back-- may the world be warned. I am no one's commodity; I am no one's maid. I am a human being-- I may not be any better than anyone else, but I am certainly no worse.<br />
God damn it!<br />
I am so tired of this. I am so tired of feeling this way, of being treated this way. My greatest fear is that I am not good enough, and the root of that fear is my mother. She is the one who cuts me down, and she is the one who has convinced me that I am not beautiful, and convinced me of my lack of worth. I am through.<br />
This is my rebellion. I follow the footsteps of the classes of people who have rebelled against their countries to survive. It comes down to survival. <br />
And I shall survive.<br />
This is my darkness, but soon is my dawn-- and I, at the wheel of fate. If I can get out, I am out. Let dad still be my father, but she never my mother, again. If they divorce, so be it. I wish it. Let daddy be free of her.<br />
<br />
<br />
Carrie,<br />
To start off, my mother is bipolar. She is also an unfit parent. The house is a mess and stays a mess. It has been that way since seventh grade, when my parents got back together after separation for three years. She never cleans, and whines about cooking. I am the one who keeps the house. After dad demanded me home last night, it became very clear what bothers me about my home; I am a commodity to my parents. Not a daughter, or even a human being, but an unfeeling maid. They cannot function without me, though. It was not that they missed me that they called me and told me to come home, and it was not with remorse that they called. There was not a &quot;we made a mistake, and we need you&quot; manner. It was (verbatim) &quot;get your *** home.&quot; <br />
I am getting very depressed, to the point of being openly vulnerable, and losing control of the emotions I give off. I am so tired of this. I am so tired of feeling this way, of being treated this way. My greatest fear is that I am not good enough, and the root of that fear is my mother. She is the one who cuts me down, and she is the one who has convinced me that I am not beautiful, and convinced me of my lack of worth. I am through.<br />
I started staying at my grandma's Monday night. I got home from musical rehearsal at 8:45 pm. Mom had nothing out for dinner, and dad had to go to the gas station, because he had forgotten to grab his card as he went to pick me up, and was running very low. Mom came home, as I was making fried egg sandwiches. She had stayed late at my dad's paint and body shop, playing a computer game she's become obsessed with. As soon as she walked in, I was very polite, and asked about her day, and if she wanted a sandwich. She said no, that she would rather I wash, and put away the dishes, deal with the laundry in the back room, and clean the bathroom. She then said that I should do all of that &quot;NOW.&quot; I responded simply that I was making dinner for my family, because there was nothing out. She said that I was making myself out to be quite the martyr. At that point I had had enough. &quot;Of all the people to accuse me of being a martyr, you are the last with a right.&quot;<br />
She sniped at me, berating me for everything I am, do, think, feel. As soon as dad got home, she changed. She was sweet, and mild, and then went to tattle on me to dad. I told dad I needed to talk to him, and told him what actually happened. The night before, for four hours she yelled at me for everything I am, do, think, feel. She is generally discontented with me; she told my uncle on my dad's side, yesterday, that I've been &quot;**** around the house, lately&quot; and &quot;useless.&quot;<br />
At 10 pm, Monday, she started going through my sister's stuff in boxes at the top of the stairs. My sister hasn't been in my house since October sixth of last year. Here is the link to my blog, if you'd like a more in-depth story of that. <a href="http://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?u=38668" target="_blank">http://www.online-literature.com/for...og.php?u=38668</a> In a nutshell; Sunny got involved with a 25 year old, cut herself, got bakeracted, went to live with Uncle Danny (dad's side). From October 6th, until winter break, I did not touch any of her stuff, though there was 6 loads of laundry, and everything else of hers was in disarray. She said it needed to be a family project, but every time I went to her about it, she said &quot;I can't deal with it; you do it.&quot; And so, I did, almost three months later. A lot of her stuff ended up in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Mom was going through it at 10pm, I had FCAT the next day, and was working on an essay. She called me up, to take the shoes out of the box with clothes. Apparently she couldn't do it. She yelled at me while I was there, again for no reason. I did not respond, and she grabbed my wrist.<br />
I snapped, yelling in her face to not even touch me, again.<br />
Dad told her to stop starting **** with me, and took me to grandma's. They did not survive a week without me. When I came home, the counters in the kitchen had not been cleaned since I left. The birds had not been fed or watered for a week-- since I left. Nothing had been cleaned at all, since I left. They cannot function without me.<br />
<br />
These are two letters written to friends. I cannot write more to publish. Let these explain what is going on. My friends, I am lost.</blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?7746-Sos</guid>
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			<title>Miss me?</title>
			<link>https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?7654-Miss-me</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 07 Mar 2009 04:48:40 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[So, I realise that I haven't blogged in ages... or visited much. And I've kind of sucked at keeping people current with my life. 
And forgive me if I...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">So, I realise that I haven't blogged in ages... or visited much. And I've kind of sucked at keeping people current with my life.<br />
And forgive me if I am brief, but I am on my own time, and at the rare point I get my own time, anymore, I steal moments or more of sleep. If I am lucky.<br />
I did well at Regional Latin Competition (3rd, speech. 3rd, myth; certamen came to a tiebreaker for second place. We lost the tiebreaker), and I am moving on to State. It will be April 15-19, starting the day after my sixteenth birthday. <br />
I will therefore not be able to celebtare my birthday, this year.<br />
We have a nice round of standardized tests next week. FCAT reading and math. We have a math test the day of the FCAT, which is super rotten. I also have a creative writing piece for English due next week, as well. I am using the story I had begun to post here (my last post entitled &quot;Chapter 1,&quot; which I never finished posting due to a lack of interest).<br />
I got promoted in Journalism-- Assistant News Editor, from a lowly staff writer. A first year journalism student has never gotten promoted, before.<br />
I finally wrote up my high school resume-- it only took 6 hours... :P <br />
I am also stage manager of the school play, and props master. That has been keeping me at the school until 6 each school day, and at school for rehearsals on Saturday. Thursday-Sunday of next week are performances of that.<br />
I broke up with Thomas, and am alone, again. It is better this way, though, despite forsaking the only man I ever truly loved or trusted, and despite the loneliness.<br />
Mom is on a manic, right now, really badly. I'm getting close to ripping my hair out, or stabbing my eardrums with a ballpoint pen; at least then I would not have to hear her.<br />
Sunny is getting better, but she is still changed. She's going to prom, though, with a really sweet (super gorgeous) junior. I've interrogated him, and threatened him if he ever broke her heart. He and I are at a complete understanding, and I trust him with her.<br />
Sunny wants me to go to prom, too, but I have to be asked, first. And I haven't. And I doubt if I will. I'm not sure what I lack, but it seems I've a shortcoming of some sort that averts guys to wanting to ask me to dances, and dates, and other teenage stuff-- despite the fact that there is plenty of persistent interest. That, and Thomas, among other things contribute to the loneliness I have learned to live with.<br />
It sucks not to feel good enough.<br />
<br />
I miss you guys, a lot. And I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to keep y'all updated...</blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Anza</dc:creator>
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