<?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-5061366162146949422</id><updated>2011-07-08T01:32:13.020-07:00</updated><category term='Cute'/><category term='how awesome I am'/><category term='new'/><category term='college'/><category term='everything sucks'/><category term='Project Runway'/><category term='Hair Cuts'/><category term='school'/><category term='canada'/><category term='Japan'/><title type='text'>Feather Feets</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7258438053708043158</id><published>2009-09-11T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T15:17:58.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>またね</title><content type='html'>Not enough hours in the day. &lt;br /&gt;Trying my best to study as often as possible. Pairing down my things sooner rather than later. Need to apply for student loans by the end of the month. &lt;br /&gt;Started back at Robotlove again. Exciting but also a little bummed out I have to give up my Friday and Saturdays off. &lt;br /&gt;I just need more time. I need to tell myself it's okay to give myself time.&lt;br /&gt;I need a planner.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've been neglectful of my friends. But I have no choice sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm anxious and excited and overwhelmed. I just need to breathe and remember that everything always works out in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7258438053708043158?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7258438053708043158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7258438053708043158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7258438053708043158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7258438053708043158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title='またね'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-8660301454301642674</id><published>2009-08-25T14:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T14:42:26.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh yeah I forgot. I got in to Temple. Moving to Tokyo at the end of December. Starting 2010 in 日本。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please find me if you'd like to see me before I go. I will miss you all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niki, I love you. Please come stay with me soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-8660301454301642674?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/8660301454301642674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=8660301454301642674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8660301454301642674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8660301454301642674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-yeah-i-forgot.html' title=''/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6136777450356263156</id><published>2009-08-09T10:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T10:40:24.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>direction</title><content type='html'>applied for a university in tokyo. find out in 8 days if i'm moving there or not. hoping the answer is yes. hoping to make the journey. hoping mike gets in too, so i can have one of my best friends close by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm 22 now and i'm the happiest i've been in my lifetime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6136777450356263156?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6136777450356263156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6136777450356263156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6136777450356263156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6136777450356263156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/08/direction.html' title='direction'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2694111652138259285</id><published>2009-06-18T18:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T18:56:01.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Summer is not the time for sitting. It is the time for doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. Unless that sitting is on the beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning over a new leaf. Tomorrow is a new day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2694111652138259285?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2694111652138259285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2694111652138259285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2694111652138259285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2694111652138259285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer-is-not-time-for-sitting.html' title=''/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1094657212321266353</id><published>2009-06-14T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T11:55:51.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm stretched so thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niki left for Uganda this morning. I am so proud of her, but also so scared for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am doing nothing. I want to be more than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been light headed every day still. I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1094657212321266353?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1094657212321266353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1094657212321266353' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1094657212321266353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1094657212321266353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-stretched-so-thin.html' title=''/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-9062741112948695272</id><published>2009-06-08T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T19:33:51.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>I'm alive. I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy mostly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My car won't start, but I didn't even get that sad about it. Hopefully we can figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to move out. I'm poor as hell. It's really a sad thing, because I love my apartment. But my bank account does not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what else to say. I need to do a bunch of work still, like always. But things are going pretty well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But exciting news. I get to help TA Biological Systems with Abbi next semester! I can't wait to learn everything I can from her. She is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-9062741112948695272?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/9062741112948695272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=9062741112948695272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/9062741112948695272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/9062741112948695272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/06/hello.html' title='Hello'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5024469430965513560</id><published>2009-05-25T11:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T11:21:59.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Give it up.</title><content type='html'>I've made a lot of decisions in the last week. Now it's time to make it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too accustomed to being free now. I don't think I can be anyones anything. I'm too well adjusted to doing everything I want to do all the time by myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have summer goals, but I don't feel I need to share them. They are mine and I will keep them for me. As soon as you share them, they become harder to attain. So in my brain they stay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting my hair messed with tomorrow. I can't decide what to do. I want a drastic change but I don't want to regret it. We'll see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5024469430965513560?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5024469430965513560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5024469430965513560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5024469430965513560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5024469430965513560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/05/give-it-up.html' title='Give it up.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4268967830931994499</id><published>2009-05-18T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T19:43:15.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we are light.&lt;br /&gt;we are made of light.&lt;br /&gt;and we are shining. &lt;br /&gt;we are penetrating ever crevice. &lt;br /&gt;we are reflecting around corners and floating under cracks in doors.&lt;br /&gt;we are everywhere all the time.&lt;br /&gt;and we are nowhere never.&lt;br /&gt;light light light.&lt;br /&gt;we are everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4268967830931994499?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4268967830931994499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4268967830931994499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4268967830931994499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4268967830931994499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-are-light.html' title=''/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6535209706338192853</id><published>2009-05-10T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T10:14:10.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Staggering.</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, I'm pretty well convinced that everything happens for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I would like to describe my current life situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I haven't paid my rent this month yet and definitely can't afford to. &lt;br /&gt;2. I've been acting like it's the apocalypse lately. I haven't had this much alcohol since I was going through that phase a few years ago. &lt;br /&gt;3. All I want to do is go home, but I can't afford to.&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm getting laid off at Robotlove at the end of the month because they can't afford to keep me on. &lt;br /&gt;5. By some (quite unfortunate) serendipity, one of the receptionists got the boot at the tattoo shop, which means I can pick up enough hours to get me to a 35 or 40 hour work week over the summer. SCORE. Money!&lt;br /&gt;6. I don't know if I can afford school next year, and all I want to do is study abroad. Japan plz. &lt;br /&gt;7.I feel let down lately. I'm probably neglecting the people that legitimately care about me, aside for that Mike that I spend all my time with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much all I got. I miss Alison, Derek and Sara. I miss Niki. I miss Joe. I miss Cody and Z. I feel like I'm just lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6535209706338192853?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6535209706338192853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6535209706338192853' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6535209706338192853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6535209706338192853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/05/staggering.html' title='Staggering.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7116538821964577347</id><published>2009-05-09T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T09:57:13.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Commodity</title><content type='html'>Knowing yourself is far more important than one can ever really realize. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to summer. I can't wait to have a legitimate day off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7116538821964577347?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7116538821964577347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7116538821964577347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7116538821964577347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7116538821964577347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/05/hot-commodity.html' title='Hot Commodity'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3707751380902746239</id><published>2009-05-05T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T14:34:55.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Pieces and Fuck You's.</title><content type='html'>I'm doing everything I can to not work on my homework right now. Bad, bad, bad. My work ethic has fallen by the way side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a whole lot of emotions under my surface bubbling away. A whole lot of thoughts that I've been thinking. I realized that if I just don't think those thoughts, nothing matters. What happens externally is all other people see. So why even burden yourself? My internal dialogue has become a tumult of existentialism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a long conversation with my brother about whether or not love exists the other day. I called him naive. He got kind of upset and called me a nihilist. What am I becoming? I don't believe in anything except floating anymore. And I'm not sad or self-destructive. I'm just tired of being disappointed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to stay up all night tonight. I want to make a mural. I want to write words and share sentiments and have long conversations. I need to empty my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just keep thinking this over and over in my head: "Perhaps people like us cannot love. Ordinary people can. That is their secret." &lt;br /&gt;Am I really that unordinary?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3707751380902746239?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3707751380902746239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3707751380902746239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3707751380902746239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3707751380902746239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/05/missing-pieces-and-fuck-yous.html' title='Missing Pieces and Fuck You&apos;s.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7351772057649671545</id><published>2009-04-30T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T16:55:32.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulled Muscles and Finals</title><content type='html'>Something is wrong with me. I've been sick as a dog. And sleepy. And NO IT'S NOT FUCKING SWINE FLU FUCK YOU FOR EVEN TRYING TO BRING IT UP YOU JERK. I've been coughing and coughing and tired. I think that's why I feel so vile is just because I can never sleep because I'm always coughing all night long. I don't remember the last time I got good sleep. I slept all day today and missed school. I'm screwing up the end of the semester when I've been doing so well all along. And I NEED to disappear and do work but that is the LAST thing I want to do. I just want to be with my friends. Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, I coughed so hard last night I pulled a muscle in my stomach. Like COME ON, lungs, chill out with the coughing already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know if you have pneumonia?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7351772057649671545?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7351772057649671545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7351772057649671545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7351772057649671545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7351772057649671545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/pulled-muscles-and-finals.html' title='Pulled Muscles and Finals'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3992101586301497498</id><published>2009-04-24T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T12:42:08.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to end/Where to begin</title><content type='html'>I have this problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel too old and too young at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the most mature immature person I've ever met. I love hula hooping and jump ropes and roller skates, dancing in the street, singing at the top of my lungs, running around screaming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I feel like I can't relate to people. Not in a condescending way, but like there's something I just don't get most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I don't entirely fit in anywhere, but that I fit in everywhere. Does that make sense? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain hurts today. Too much thought, not enough action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need 3 things today: &lt;br /&gt;- An apple&lt;br /&gt;- Reassurance&lt;br /&gt;- Friendship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, I'm not sad or upset. I'm not feeling bad for myself. I'm just curious and a little confused. Although, I did recently stop taking my anxiety medication against my better judgement. But 50$ a month is just too much for me. Sorry pharmaceutical industry, but I'm just a poor little college girl. Relying on medication isn't really my banner jam anyways. But I would really like to level out instead of feeling anxious and knowing it's completely ridiculous. That's the funny thing about my anxiety, is I completely understand and recognize it, but no matter how I talk myself out of it, it doesn't ever really work. And then it will just disappear all of a sudden. It's really frustrating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could shut myself off. I like it better when I can just roll with everything. So does everyone else I'm pretty sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3992101586301497498?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3992101586301497498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3992101586301497498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3992101586301497498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3992101586301497498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/where-to-endwhere-to-begin.html' title='Where to end/Where to begin'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7535269585116899691</id><published>2009-04-20T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T15:23:24.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worn Out Record.</title><content type='html'>I'm tired. Stressed. Over booked. Under prepared. It's all my own fault. I didn't want to do anything when it got sunny. I still don't. I need exercise. I need a clean house. I need to do homework. I need to fill out applications. I need someone to kick me in the ass so I stop falling by the wayside. Scratch that, I need to kick my own ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran myself down this weekend. I always do this to myself. And I accomplished very little. Very little real things I mean. I rode my bike and worked I guess. Finished a project. Made some lists. Hot tubbed. That's about all I got. Not really a whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think part of my problem is I've been trying to introvert myself, which is having some adverse reactions. I was really salty on saturday and sunday. I'm not taking care of myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was a lot of fun. Friday, I was on 100%. Friday I did good things, had a lot of fun, was with my good friends, met new friends, managed to be the most comfortable in a social situation I've been in a long time. I need more days like that. I need less alcohol probably when I do those things though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Natalie's birthday. I hope I feel good enough to be able to go get drinks (at least a coke!) and be in good spirits. RIght now I'm just exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to keep reminding myself that it's impossible to run from anything. It is all inevitable. Honesty is the best policy. I need to be honest with myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7535269585116899691?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7535269585116899691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7535269585116899691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7535269585116899691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7535269585116899691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/worn-out-record.html' title='Worn Out Record.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3189521062843546428</id><published>2009-04-18T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T09:15:14.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Hay.</title><content type='html'>My days have been really interesting lately. My ability to keep a level head has greatly improved. Jerry Allan says it takes 30 days to change a habit. Thanks Jerry. I think on that quite often. One month to transformation. One month to being more me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone asked me what I was afraid of yesterday. Without hesitation I replied "nothing." The funny thing was, I think that it was completely sincere. There is a difference between aprehension and fear. Maybe it was more at that moment perhaps. Either way, it felt really good to say and mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm struggling to find the right words for anything today. A quiet calm is setting in. I feel really good about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niki came to visit yesterday! Which was really nice to see her. Unfortunately I didn't get to spend a whole lot of time with her, but I met her boyfriend and he seemed really nice. It's clear that she has really changed, and so have I. Only for the better though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Eames is a really good friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3189521062843546428?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3189521062843546428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3189521062843546428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3189521062843546428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3189521062843546428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-hay.html' title='Oh Hay.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-158727036963378968</id><published>2009-04-14T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T13:53:54.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Head in the Clouds</title><content type='html'>I've had a lot of time to think lately. I've come to a lot of conclusions about myself, and I'm pretty happy about it. I know I say that a lot, but that's alright. Life is constant self-discovery and reinvention, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I felt very held down. Still do. But I've got plans, routes of escape, places to hide. I feel more free. I feel more at ease. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I blamed a lot of other people for the way that I felt. Especially one person in particular. It was no ones fault but my own though. I needed to step back to see through it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just feel relaxed. Independent. Niki used to always say I would never be happy until I realized I liked myself much better alone. She's always right. I miss her a lot. She was the only one brave enough to be honest with me. I think I sometimes held that against her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel a little bit behind with my daily life. I have homework piling up. Forms I need to fill out. Applications I need to get in. It's too hard though with the way the weather has been lately. All I can think of is bbq's, roller skating and laying outside with a stack of good books. Fuck it I guess. If worse comes to worse I can just disappear and live on a farm. Ha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't say much next time you see me, don't feel bad. I've taken to observing more than speaking lately. If you'd like to talk, though, I would be more than happy to listen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-158727036963378968?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/158727036963378968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=158727036963378968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/158727036963378968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/158727036963378968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/head-in-clouds.html' title='Head in the Clouds'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5778435179869858425</id><published>2009-04-07T14:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T14:18:47.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't seem to land.</title><content type='html'>I feel like I have a mile long list of things which need accomplishing and not enough time to do them. I sort of feel like I fucked myself over by going out of town for spring break, but I definitely needed the change of scenery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can go home this weekend for Easter as much as I want to. I need the time to actually be accomplishing things. I can't be fucking around anymore. School is almost over this year and it's just not possible. I need to end on a good note. I've already dropped the ball on a few things. No more. I need to be a good student. I need to accomplish my work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been incredibly strange. A very fine mix of good and bad. The good has seemed to outweigh the bad though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tmobile is FINALLY giving me a new phone after 6 months of me complaining and my phone not working properly. Pretty psyched on that. I should be getting it in the next few days so hot dang. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have a bunch of catching up to do with my friends. I have barely seen anyone since I've been home. AND I HAVE SO MUCH LAUNDRY. Crap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to write it all down and accomplish things one at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5778435179869858425?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5778435179869858425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5778435179869858425' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5778435179869858425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5778435179869858425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-cant-seem-to-land.html' title='I can&apos;t seem to land.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4909994999365153975</id><published>2009-04-05T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T06:34:01.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So long, New England.</title><content type='html'>I'm leaving for the airport in a little bit. This is my last morning in the Harring's house. I'm sort of sad to be leaving. I love living here. I love the girls and the places to explore. I love the people I've met. I love the kitchen! And I love waking up with my BFF every morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lifestyle out here has gotten me on a solid sleep schedule. I've been eating really well. Everything is so old and beautiful. I want to see summer in New Hampshire. I want to walk the streets of Boston every night. I want Concord walks and Kimball's Ice Cream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On friday when we had Heidi's birthday dinner(which Cat and I prepared, Scallops and Leeks in Orange Star Anise sauce and a Strawberry Marscapone Torte), Heidi's dad asked me (half jokingly) what I would charge to come be his live-in chef. CHEF. It started my brain swirling at the possibility of living here over the summer, cooking and learning to cook every day, experimenting, being able to explore a new world every day. I couldn't ask for a better offer. I wish it could actually happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad to be leaving this place. I am looking forward to being home though. I miss my kitten and my friends. Being out here has really made me take another look at my life. I realize now I can go wherever the wind takes me and find comfort. I could move to a different city and find my way, my place. Adrian made a comment about how easy it is for me to talk to people. And it's true. I find very little difficulty in venturing out of my comfort zone and embarrassing myself. So at least I have that advantage if I ever venture out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can hold on to the motivation this place has provided me and be able to push myself to be better. I know a lot of my friends would venture out with me. So who wants to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4909994999365153975?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4909994999365153975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4909994999365153975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4909994999365153975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4909994999365153975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-long-new-england.html' title='So long, New England.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6616643636018385666</id><published>2009-03-30T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T06:13:56.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New England Adventures part 1</title><content type='html'>Good Morning! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is about 9am in Massachusettes. It's rainy and foggy, but still about 45 degrees. &lt;br /&gt;I've been getting up at 7am or earlier every morning since I've been out here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, Cat and I got up at 6am. We stayed at the Harring's house in New Hampshire so that we could get up early and climb Mt. Washington up to Tuckerman's Ravine. The New Hampshire house is high up in the mountains, so we got to throw wide the curtains on the wall to wall windows and watch the sunrise over the mountains. Gorgeous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it to Pinkham's Notch, the entrance to the Tuckerman Trail, at about 7:30am. The weather was absolutely perfect. Sunny, clear skies and about 45 degrees the whole day. The hike was difficult since it was entirely uphill, but we managed to make it the nearly 4 miles in only about 2 hours. The hike down only took us about an hour. It was absolutely amazing though. I've never been in mountains like that before and it was breathtaking. You could just see mountains all around for miles and miles and miles. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it back to the car and were on the road back to MA by about 11:30. We were pretty pleased with ourselves. And I wasn't even sore the next day! High fives!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we just tried to relax. We drove into Concord for dinner and just came back to the house, had a beer and went to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we got up early with the girls and had a big breakfast of blueberry pancakes and bacon with the whole family. It was rainy and yucky yesterday, so we took the T into Boston and went to the Harlem Globetrotters game. It was everything I thought it would be. Kitschy, hillariously stupid and pretty sweet all at the same time. We only stayed until half time because Cat wasn't feeling well, but that's really all the Globetrotters you need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back, the girls decided that it was time to make cupcakes. Reiley and Alden picked out a recipe for Coconut Cupcakes with Coconut Cream Cheese Frosting. They did a really good job following the recipe and working together. I was really impressed. I decided to add some lime zest to the frosting to kick it up a bit and the results were, of course, delicious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heidi and Vaughn made steak, roasted potatoes and steamed broccoli for dinner and it was phenomonal. We all sat around and had a few glasses of wine, then Cat and I played a card game called Garbage for a few hours and we hit the hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just sitting in the play room. The girls are all at school. Cat is showering. We decided today since it is still rainy that we're going to go to the Concord Museum and the Orchard House, which is where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Exciting! Hopefully we'll be hot tubbing sometime this afternoon as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having such a lovely time. It's been relaxing and fun. Heidi and Vaughn keep telling me what a good sport I am for hanging around with the girls, but really I'm having a wonderful time with them. Cat has one of the best jobs ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's my turn to shower. I'll have pictures soon I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6616643636018385666?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6616643636018385666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6616643636018385666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6616643636018385666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6616643636018385666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-england-adventures-part-1.html' title='New England Adventures part 1'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7434970834198923909</id><published>2009-03-24T14:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T14:39:08.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain.</title><content type='html'>Rainy days are good thinking days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had too many long empty days lately. Too many laying in bed all day in and out of sleep because I'm so sick I feel like I could check out at any minute days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I don't really have a lot to say lately. Not anything important anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes wish I could mediate. I mean sure I CAN, but effectively. Instead of wasting my down time emptying my mind, I wish I could be learning to open it. There is so much still that I have yet to discover within me. It's frustrating that what is outside takes over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to get away. I'm ready for a new adventure in Boston. I'm ready for the familiar arms of my best friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will do anything to be able to take Japanese this summer and study abroad at Temple next year. ANYTHING. That is all I need. That is the change that I need. It's a part of me and I need to be free again. I'm so tired of being restless. I'd love to yearn for this place again, but all I feel is the inability to leave holding me down. It's going to take a lot for me to say "I wish I were in Minneapolis." Probably a month away at least. We'll see how this little excursion into the unknown goes next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I envy all of my friends that don't have to work and can just focus on school. No one knows how badly I wish that could be me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7434970834198923909?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7434970834198923909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7434970834198923909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7434970834198923909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7434970834198923909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/rain.html' title='Rain.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5546803794936946702</id><published>2009-03-21T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T09:34:32.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunshine.</title><content type='html'>I slept all day yesterday, waking only to visit the doctor, eat and shower. I'm luck to have 4 good friends living just 5 blocks away. Bill, Jay and Max took care of me all day, going so far as going to the grocery store for me and driving me home in my car and walking back to their house. Sometimes you really just need someone to take care of you to help you feel better. I'm grateful, because I feel much much better today. So thank you boys for being good friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a lot of strange dreams lately. I hope that some of them mean something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to not feel anxious about anything for once. Decisions are just decisions. Life always takes different courses, but what really matters never disappears. This can easily be demonstrated by my friendship with Joe Zimmer. We met almost 12 years ago, right before I entered the 6th grade. He and his family moved in a few blocks away from me. Ever since then he's been in and out of my life, sometimes in bigger ways than others. Not to mention my friendship with Catherine. She's been in and out of my life for 5 or 6 years now, and we're still very close. In fact, I'm flying to Boston to visit her in a week! So I think I just need to understand that the important relationships will never completely disappear. Life is funny that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going home at 2, cleaning and making cake. Hopefully I can bust it out rather quickly. I really wanted to make it yesterday but as previously stated I wasn't really up to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next two weeks will be so busy. Then when I get home I expect to see Natalie! YOU HEAR ME!?! Haha. &lt;br /&gt;Fuck it. I miss everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5546803794936946702?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5546803794936946702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5546803794936946702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5546803794936946702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5546803794936946702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/sunshine.html' title='Sunshine.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-67863864270276115</id><published>2009-03-17T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:33:16.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOODFOODFOOD</title><content type='html'>As many of you may already know, I am obsessed with baking and food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, my very good friend Mike has recently decided to experiment with veganism and in doing so has become very interested in cooking. So the other night, we decided to make MOCHI!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3574/3329000898_e70bc58f88.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3574/3329000898_e70bc58f88.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you're unfamiliar with Mochi, it's a traditional japanese dessert made basically from sweet rice flour and sugar. We found a recipe on &lt;a href="http://www.veganyumyum.com"&gt;Vegan Yum Yum&lt;/a&gt;, my favorite new vegan food blog, that literally took us 10 minutes to make. I'm sure it's one of the newest posts, but it was a very lucky discovery since I had to make something for class and was having a hard time deciding what I wanted to experiment with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went over really well in class and we were pretty pleased with ourselves as well. It was our first time every making mochi, and we made our own Anko for the filling too (a filling made of sugary adzuki beans that is commonly used in a lot of japanese baked goods). Overall it was a good experiment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish that I had way more time, because I absolutely love baking and trying new things. This summer will be baking all the time, I promise! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is Peanut Butter birthday cake for Nick Dahl's birthday! Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-67863864270276115?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/67863864270276115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=67863864270276115' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/67863864270276115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/67863864270276115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/foodfoodfood.html' title='FOODFOODFOOD'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3574/3329000898_e70bc58f88_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1346424370834703128</id><published>2009-03-14T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T10:08:25.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still a 15 year old Boy.</title><content type='html'>Mike bought the Avatar Trading Card Game for us to start playing. Mike is 23. I am 21. We play Pokemon cards. We make Japanese food together. We watch Avatar. Now we will play Avatar. I have a Pokemon half sleeve tattoo. I buy toys on a regular basis. I work at a toy store in fact. I never grew up past 15. But like 15 year old boy 15, not 15 year old girl 15. This is one of my favorite things about myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling very content lately. Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. I have a small plan I want to implement over the next few semesters here to make my life really sweet. We'll see if it actually happens, but I feel like I have nothing holding me back anymore. I've shed all of my fear. I'm ready to take on life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd really like to take Japanese this summer. And study abroad in Tokyo next spring semester. I can do it. Why not? What better time than now? Before I decide to have a real life and settle somewhere. I feel like I've already been settled for so long. I don't like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having some fucking strange dreams lately. I have no idea what any of it means. But I like to remember them because they make good stories. I should really start keeping a dream journal. I could write a mess of short stories with the fucked up lucid dreams I have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exhibition is over in 2 weeks. I get to see my BFF Cat in 2 weeks. I get to explore Boston and the east coast in 2 weeks. My life will be sweet in 2 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that I was recently compared to Che Guevara by one of my teachers. Um. Thanks? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a conquerer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1346424370834703128?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1346424370834703128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1346424370834703128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1346424370834703128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1346424370834703128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/still-15-year-old-boy.html' title='Still a 15 year old Boy.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6114928032893208004</id><published>2009-03-09T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:41:35.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Designar?</title><content type='html'>I made a book for my class this morning. I sort of decided to do it last night on a whim. I had all the content but I didn't have a nice visual way to present it. I decided to make a little book to make the information a little more tactile. It felt really good to do. It was just a little extra work and it made the presentation of my material much more exciting than a word document. I decided that I want to do more assignments like that. It made me feel really accomplished and I was actually proud of what I had to show. Yay books!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't stop fucking coughing today. It sucks big time. I'm so done with this stupid sickness. Quit it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could seriously listen to Billie Holiday all day every day forever. So good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only 3 more weeks til the exhibition is over and I'm off to Boston FUCK YES.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6114928032893208004?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6114928032893208004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6114928032893208004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6114928032893208004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6114928032893208004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/designar.html' title='Designar?'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5366065131619150482</id><published>2009-03-08T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T16:18:33.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lists.</title><content type='html'>Kitten gets twitchy when she sleeps.&lt;br /&gt;I write stories about a photograph from 4 different perspectives.&lt;br /&gt;I listen to Billie Holiday all day. &lt;br /&gt;I miss Natalie.&lt;br /&gt;I make pizza from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like cleaning my house. &lt;br /&gt;I'm lonelynotlonely.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like washing my hair, but I do twice a week.&lt;br /&gt;Kitten always steps on my laptop while it's open.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a beautiful kitchen and lots of money to experiment with food.&lt;br /&gt;I need to read some books.&lt;br /&gt;I need to buy a book. &lt;br /&gt;I should probably brush my teeth because I need to leave soon and I ate pizza.&lt;br /&gt;I should probably finish my homework. &lt;br /&gt;Let's call the whole thing off!&lt;br /&gt;I love Billie Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;My mom things that's weird. &lt;br /&gt;I'm going to give Max a hair cut I guess.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hang out with Natalie.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know about anything I decided.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to close my window and it's been open for like 3 or 4 days now, but it hasn't been cold. It's been rather pleasant. &lt;br /&gt;I can't find my travel mug.&lt;br /&gt;Mike and I made vegan casserole and vegan banana chocolate chip bread last night. It was delicious.&lt;br /&gt;I love cooking. &lt;br /&gt;I need to work.&lt;br /&gt;I tweet too much.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really like ginger ale I don't think.&lt;br /&gt;I need to be a good student.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm done blogging now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5366065131619150482?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5366065131619150482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5366065131619150482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5366065131619150482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5366065131619150482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/lists.html' title='Lists.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-8002290059668328219</id><published>2009-03-07T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T10:16:18.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go back to the start.</title><content type='html'>I love the new Lilly Allen album. It's fucking fantastic. I keep listening to it over and over again at work. I'm pretty sure people are going to start getting real sick of me real quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was silly. Alison's 21st birthday. We kicked ass at beer pong. I met some cool people. Had a good time. And people seemed to like the cake. I of course could find nothing but problems with it, but that's how I am with anything I bake. I'm just like my Grandma that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling pretty alright today. Things are sort of just floating lately. But I'm kind of alright with that. I'm just going to be whatever I am. John Paul Sarte would high five me right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a new version of Pokemon coming out on the 22nd. Anyone want to buy it for me? Thx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-8002290059668328219?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/8002290059668328219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=8002290059668328219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8002290059668328219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8002290059668328219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/go-back-to-start.html' title='Go back to the start.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1898427456351977308</id><published>2009-03-03T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:49:33.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired eyes</title><content type='html'>I just drank a travel mug full of french press and my eyes are heavy and my head feels light. I've only been sick for a week and it already feels like an eternity. All I want to do is go back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would really like to snap out of my funk and become a fully functioning human being again. I feel like I've been a zombie at work and school and I'm not really doing a good enough job of things. I feel like I've been extra flakey and letting my friends down. I'm just so tired. I'm so so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my Grandma Marlus' birthday yesterday. My brother and I went and visited her grave. It was strange. I still remember what she smells like. I still remember how she used to laugh. And call me skinny minnie. And baby girl. And hug me so tight whenever I came home to visit. And the way she would get so frustrated about everything and point her finger at you. &lt;br /&gt;I remember holding her hand and telling her "I'm not worried Grandma. You're a fighter." That was the last time I got to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really doesn't seem like it's been almost 3 years. I miss her so much still. I feel like next time I go home she'll just be there with cookies and kisses and everything will be okay. I wish. I wish so hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I want to be back in my bed with my kitten plz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1898427456351977308?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1898427456351977308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1898427456351977308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1898427456351977308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1898427456351977308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/03/tired-eyes.html' title='Tired eyes'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6633383479892410283</id><published>2009-02-28T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T09:16:19.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We change, we wait.</title><content type='html'>I feel numbed. And I know people say that a lot, but it's true. There is no real anything resonating from inside of me. It's all just reaction. There is no real emotion behind anything I do lately. No real rationale. I am lost again. I'm trying so hard not to start floating away again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; But it just gets easier and easier and easier. What matters? I have no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this sounds stupid. I know this sounds absolutely selfish and sad and absurd. But I can't feel logic anymore. I can't feel happy or sad or anything. Because I spent so long feeling scared and introspective and worried, that nothing makes sense if I'm not trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong. And I spent so long caring for someone that I thought cared for me. But then... I don't even want to think about it. It's not that he doesn't care. I know he cares. It's just... I hate to sounds like an asshole... but it just wasn't enough. It wasn't what I thought. It wasn't what I felt. It just.... it wasn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all I want to do is go back to his house and sit with him and hold his hand and tell him it will all be okay and that he doesn't need to worry. That I'm there. But I've become a ghost. I feel like I don't even have a reflection anymore. I'm just nothing. But I'm here. I know I am. I see my breath when I walk outside. I feel my heart. I feel my muscles. But that's all I can feel. The simple bag of skin I am. I feel what's tangible. But everything inside of me, the things that make me human, they've all disappeared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise, if you see me, I'll smile. I'll laugh. I'll make jokes. I'll listen. I'll even hold your hand and tell you everything will be okay. I might even be fun to hang out with. But inside, I'm dead. Half-dead. Near-dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When do I get someone to come hold my hand and tell me not to worry because everything will be okay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6633383479892410283?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6633383479892410283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6633383479892410283' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6633383479892410283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6633383479892410283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-change-we-wait.html' title='We change, we wait.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-476400784382137985</id><published>2009-02-26T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:23:58.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessive</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that a bookstore had an overstock of a bunch of books that they were just giving away for free. I happened upon a bin outside of their door, and EVERY SINGLE DONNA HAY BOOK EVER was in the bin, as well as some novels I've been wanting to read. I wanted this dream to be real so badly. I am absolutely a pathetic person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had this weird dream that I can't really remember right now, but then I had a dream that I was telling someone about the weird dream that I had. Super bizarre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain hasn't been working lately. I've got the flu I'm fairly certain. I've felt completely off since last Sunday. I hope I'm not sick for much longer. I can't take it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-476400784382137985?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/476400784382137985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=476400784382137985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/476400784382137985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/476400784382137985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/obsessive.html' title='Obsessive'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5907320459666629817</id><published>2009-02-25T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T18:45:36.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expressionless.</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting in front of Starbucks on Washington in my car lurking Wi-Fi, waiting for Mike to get out of class. I already had coffee today, so I didn't really feel like paying for something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel incredibly empty today. I'm trying to smile and laugh but it all seems so forced. I don't know what I'm doing. I just feel like I'm drifting and responding to things the way I'm conditioned to. Everything is absolutely so contrived. I am blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked by the tea place twice, not on purpose. The first time I managed not to look in. The second time Luke was pointing something out and I saw him. I instantly felt a wave of crushing, sickening sadness. Everything feels wrong. I have no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to Natalie's soon to make sushi. I'm really glad that she is my friend. I just hope I can be a little bit fun to hang out with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5907320459666629817?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5907320459666629817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5907320459666629817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5907320459666629817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5907320459666629817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/expressionless.html' title='Expressionless.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-8670999649390244032</id><published>2009-02-23T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:37:19.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Am I Supposed to do?</title><content type='html'>Today has been the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. Fuck everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-8670999649390244032?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/8670999649390244032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=8670999649390244032' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8670999649390244032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8670999649390244032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-am-i-supposed-to-do.html' title='What Am I Supposed to do?'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7491815606432504932</id><published>2009-02-20T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T10:38:57.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Coffee</title><content type='html'>Srsly. One of the worst things ever is when you get up in the morning, decide to grab a coffee to get you going, swing down to your favorite local spot, and the coffee is TERRIBLE. Fuck. I'm a half soy/half espresso kind of gal. And that shit just tasted like water. I NEED STRONG COFFEE. Ugh. Now my whole day is thrown off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I just finished a quiz, I'm sitting in the library and I ate some yogurt that tasted delicious. I guess things aren't all bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been crazy busy and it won't stop until....never. I'm going to be busy all week and next week. Ugh. Spring break get here soon plz. Thx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I got a really awesome package in the mail the other day that totally made my life. I have really cool friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7491815606432504932?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7491815606432504932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7491815606432504932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7491815606432504932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7491815606432504932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/bad-coffee.html' title='Bad Coffee'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4193871784744470023</id><published>2009-02-17T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T16:40:00.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Always 10 steps ahead of myself.</title><content type='html'>Today has already been crazy. Tomorrow will be worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept in this morning and didn't work out. Bad idea. Tomorrow I have to get up at 6:30am to even have a half hour to get ready to go in the morning. There's NO WAY I am getting up earlier than that. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I need to purchase in the near future:&lt;br /&gt;-plane ticket to Boston: $300&lt;br /&gt;-wii fit: $100&lt;br /&gt;-moccasins for summertime: $60-$100&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. That's already $500. I hate moneys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone have a wii fit they want to sell for like $60? I'll totally take it off your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to set up a clear cut budget for myself I think. That would be way legit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 3/4 of the way done with my Ethics homework. Haven't started my rough draft for Publishing. Want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings with Miranda and company tonight. Picking up Cody to run to target after work. Want to go to Derek and Sara's later. NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THE DAY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish there were 3 of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4193871784744470023?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4193871784744470023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4193871784744470023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4193871784744470023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4193871784744470023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/always-10-steps-ahead-of-myself.html' title='Always 10 steps ahead of myself.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5279293430921915699</id><published>2009-02-15T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:17:23.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a girl.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it's hard to believe how girly I am. Because I am so not a girly girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hot damn. Yesterday just drove me right up the wall. Valentines. No I don't care about it. But you know, it got me thinking. I would really love to be taken out on a proper date. Just cruise around, go to the zoo or the museum, have a nice lunch or dinner or picnic. Spend the whole day together being cute and stupid because sometimes it's fun to be cute and stupid. And then at the end of the night we could just fall asleep together and everything would feel alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. I seriously would really like for that to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today, I cried while I was watching something because the two main characters finally found love in each other. WHICH IS SO CORNY AND GROSS. But I did. I teared up. And I sobbed a bit. Ugh. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY AM I SUCH A GIRL?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5279293430921915699?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5279293430921915699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5279293430921915699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5279293430921915699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5279293430921915699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-girl.html' title='I am a girl.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4437670073782985563</id><published>2009-02-13T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T12:28:08.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Checked Out.</title><content type='html'>I should really have learned my lesson and never taken a Friday class. I can't pay attention for more than like 5 minutes at a time, and even that is incredibly hard to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent over an hour (but what seemed like only 10 minutes) at Kitchen Window this morning. I finally found a mandolin I liked for a decent price AND I found some lollipop moulds that I actually like. Yay! It's surprisingly hard to find lollipop moulds. I also bought a nice pair of tongs since I don't have any. I lack a lot of kitchen essentials I'm realizing. I think I need to buy some better knives soon. And pans. Oh god I need everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm making lollipops tonight just to do a test run. And bonus: we get to drink the extra gin. Nomz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously have been craving like a seriously good meal all week. After lunch at Lucia's I'm on a mission for delicious foodz. Maybe I need to cook tonight...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4437670073782985563?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4437670073782985563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4437670073782985563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4437670073782985563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4437670073782985563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/checked-out.html' title='Checked Out.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1358282958465039327</id><published>2009-02-09T15:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T15:50:33.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF kind of day.</title><content type='html'>So luckily, my rent check didn't bounce. However, now my bank account is negative about 60$. Oh. And my phone bill didn't get paid. Oh. And I have less than 40$ in my wallet to last until I get paid on friday. Oh. And my mom is in Alabama right now so she can't pay my phone bill. Oh. Awsm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Amanda calls me and is so so sick. She managed to drag herself into work but asks me to come in early. No problemo. But I have to do this photo shoot for Liz. No problemo. But I have to feed London. Oh shi.... I guess I'll do it on my way to work. Oh wait. I have to be there ASAP cuz Amanda already left? Oh shi... okay, we can swing this. Guess I'll feed London after work. Let me just call Cody and....Oh shi... No phone. Oh well. I'll just send him a message when I get to work. Oh great. Now what? Gas light goes on. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Cool. Guess I'm living on 30$...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get to work. Find a parking spot no problem. Yes this day is getting better! Then... it's raining? Um? IT'S FEBRUARY IN MINNESOTA AND IT'S RAINING?!?!?!?! I still haven't decided if this is good or bad. But weird and awesome none the less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wander over to Erberts and Gerberts to get soup and sandwich. Sandwich is good, soup is terrible. Great. Now I'm living on 25$. What a dumb idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm sitting at work doing homework. It's almost 6pm. Which means the day could potentially get worse, but it might get better? Let's hope it gets better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously don't understand why it takes 2 fucking months for MCAD to get me my refund check. $5000 sure would be helpful right now. FUCK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the times that I wish I had a credit card. But I don't know if that would cause more problems or just help me when it comes down to times like these. Sigh. Here's to hoping I make it through this week unscathed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1358282958465039327?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1358282958465039327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1358282958465039327' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1358282958465039327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1358282958465039327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/wtf-kind-of-day.html' title='WTF kind of day.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3361245599136563056</id><published>2009-02-07T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:24:49.488-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hidden in Plain View</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to push through everything and get to where I want to be. I feel a little overwhelmed. My problem is always follow through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to go to the fish market after work and get something there to make lunch with. I dunno. I want to make a nice lunch/dinner for myself but I can't decide what to make. Guess I have to sit and do research for the next few hours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody gave me his internet password so I'm able to get some internet at my house. It's pretty spotty, but it's alright. It makes it really hard to watch Avatar though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sort of strange today. Floating. I'm not sure if that's good or bad or where I'll go next, but that's okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it to stay warm. I need sun and bike riding and beaches sooner than later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3361245599136563056?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3361245599136563056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3361245599136563056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3361245599136563056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3361245599136563056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/hidden-in-plain-view.html' title='Hidden in Plain View'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2092986757003332620</id><published>2009-02-03T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T15:22:23.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Candied fruit.</title><content type='html'>I need a &lt;a href="http://www.simply-natural.biz/media/oxo-mandolin_big.jpg"&gt;mandolin slicer.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alison and I are planning our luncheon for the first of March. We're going to make lollipops and quiche and finger sandwiches and wear dresses and make tea! I'm really excited. It's seriously one of the most hilarious ideas we've ever had. Cannot wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to do laundry tonight but I have so much work and I just don't feeeeel like it. I also need to do my dishes but that doesn't look like its happening. I am so dead tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think tonight I will go to super target and get groceries and things. I think I'm going to make some salmon for dinner with some yummy potatoes and broccolini. I'd just rather wait until the weekend to do laundry. My weeks are so overwhelmed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2092986757003332620?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2092986757003332620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2092986757003332620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2092986757003332620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2092986757003332620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/candied-fruit.html' title='Candied fruit.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1092089521317649573</id><published>2009-02-02T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T19:15:45.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every place is a house.</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting at work now. Listening to Pandora Radio and staring blankly at the minutes ticking on. I am slouching. My arm is sore and my head aches and I feel so tired. I have to get up at 8am again tomorrow, just like today, just like every day, to work and have meetings and run all around and read and read and read until I am cross eyed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found solace in books lately. In the library. I've never been one to venture into the library just because. Now I find myself winding up there more and more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only things it seems I do for fun are so inane. I like to bake and cook. I like to read. Those are my hobbies. Nothing exciting. But yet so exhilarating to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I commented the other day that if my 19 year old self were to meet my 21 year old self she would say "You have GOT to be kidding me. When did you get so.... boring?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In reality, I feel like I've probably never been able to have this much fun. Because I relish it now. I'm never bored unless I'm forced to sit. And even then I am thinking. Or reading. Or writing. Or plotting my next dish or cupcake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm really using my mind again. Like I've learned to live in and out side of myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logic and tranquility are in no short supply these days. I feel sure and courageous again. Self doubt is vanishing. It is a good feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to more in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1092089521317649573?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1092089521317649573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1092089521317649573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1092089521317649573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1092089521317649573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/02/every-place-is-house.html' title='Every place is a house.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-512508623996798699</id><published>2009-01-31T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T08:39:05.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Word Vomit.</title><content type='html'>I've been having fucking mouth diarrhea lately. I cannot control what I say and I'm annoyed by the sound of my own voice. I'm going into hiding today so I don't say more stupid things to people that shouldn't hear them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was fun but I'm crawling out of my skin today. I need to be more tactful. I know it's not even a big deal but srsly. I can't behave myself lately. But cupcakes and vodka was definitely a fantastic idea. I'm the only person I know that gets a party going by saying "HEY LET'S GET DRUNK AND MAKE CUP CAKES!!" So good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Derek is letting me use his old iphone. He deserves a kitchen aid for his kindness. O WAI...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I can now say that I have been to Cadillac Pawn. LOLLERZ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-512508623996798699?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/512508623996798699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=512508623996798699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/512508623996798699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/512508623996798699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/word-vomit.html' title='Word Vomit.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2818060109932626715</id><published>2009-01-30T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T15:11:04.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing things you've never done.</title><content type='html'>Today I went and had acupuncture. She put 17 needles in my body and let me lay like that for a half hour. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done. I really want to do it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't go to class today. I just felt so good and relaxed after the acupuncture I just didn't even feel like doing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought things to make 2 types of cupcakes. I'd really like for my oven to stop being horrible. I have plans dammit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poohki and I had sake last night and had so many good talks. I had a really good time. I just have nothing but good things to say lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been lovely. I'm at Derek and Sara's hanging tou now, watching the food network, and Sara is making dinner. She's never made dinner for herself, let alone other people. I'm excited. I can't listen right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2818060109932626715?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2818060109932626715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2818060109932626715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2818060109932626715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2818060109932626715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/doing-things-youve-never-done.html' title='Doing things you&apos;ve never done.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4123856775668587113</id><published>2009-01-27T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T12:54:17.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/SX90HX6gHgI/AAAAAAAAABo/q7SqqpE41T0/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/SX90HX6gHgI/AAAAAAAAABo/q7SqqpE41T0/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296079356838288898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my week. You can stop asking me why I'm always busy now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donna Hay is my new favorite magazine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4123856775668587113?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4123856775668587113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4123856775668587113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4123856775668587113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4123856775668587113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/perspective.html' title='Perspective.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/SX90HX6gHgI/AAAAAAAAABo/q7SqqpE41T0/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7985162164578557217</id><published>2009-01-26T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:55:24.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Necessity.</title><content type='html'>I need love and conversation.&lt;br /&gt;I need baking and creativity.&lt;br /&gt;I need friends and adventures.&lt;br /&gt;I need learning and reading.&lt;br /&gt;I need guidance and freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7985162164578557217?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7985162164578557217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7985162164578557217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7985162164578557217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7985162164578557217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/necessity.html' title='Necessity.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1347957887619747331</id><published>2009-01-23T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:07:12.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas</title><content type='html'>I've been eating banana everything lately. All I want is bananas all day. Yesterday I was craving banana bread and today all I can think about is Derek's banana muffins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was a mess of fun. Miranda invited me to the Bedlam theater with her, Lauren, Benjamin and Sheena. She sang a beautiful song she wrote, we drank and laughed. It was actually really awesome. Sort of a cabaret type performance shindig going on. There was one woman that wouldn't stop fucking yelling though and I wanted to sock her in the mouth. Obnoxious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to Grumpy's and sang karaoke really horribly/excellently. I had a marvelous time. It was a wonderful night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I got a split in my knuckle that I didn't notice until I was brushing my teeth to go to bed last night. It hurts really badly. I hate having cuts there it's absolutely the worst place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitten kept biting my feet last night. There is construction going on across the hall every weekday morning starting at like 7:30am. I did not sleep very well. I keep having really strange dreams about art museums and parties and people I used to know. I don't know what it all means, but I think it means I am missing something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is coming to stay with my tomorrow. She's bringing me a kitchen table and taking me shopping for chairs. I can't say I'm not incredibly excited because I am THE MOST excited. I'm going to make dinner for my mom, brother and Cody hopefully. I'm doing an internet search for menu items today. And I'm going to make cupcakes too for dessert. Noms!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been fast and dreamy. I'm continuing my search. And writing letters. I'm going to ask my mom about culinary school. Tomorrow. I need a new book to read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I am lusting after &lt;a href="http://alexandracassaniti.com/sunglasses.html"&gt;these.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1347957887619747331?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1347957887619747331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1347957887619747331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1347957887619747331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1347957887619747331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/bananas.html' title='Bananas'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-9026560641503412169</id><published>2009-01-21T16:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T16:11:26.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuppacake.</title><content type='html'>Alright whatever. I'm done complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I've been doing this week is reading cooking blogs. I would really love to have a Kitchen Aid mixer. I'd also love to go to culinary school. These are things that I think I should pursue. At least the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be working on my objectives for my internship, but since I don't have MS Word (fuuuuuuck. Thanks for crashing, computer!), I'm blogging instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have class in 20 minutes. First class I'm attending this semester. Seems crazy considering I was at school all day Monday, Tuesday, and all day today. 5 meetings from 8:30 to 3:30. What a crazy day. It wasn't that bad. It's just weird to be like....in a career but at school but with two jobs but not really sure what I want to do with my life. Social life? What's that? I hang out with my cat...? Does that count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start writing letters this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got some really good news this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tickets to NY are only 200$ right now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just get it all into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin for Culinary school? Hmmmmmmmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-9026560641503412169?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/9026560641503412169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=9026560641503412169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/9026560641503412169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/9026560641503412169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/cuppacake.html' title='Cuppacake.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-514041419952585189</id><published>2009-01-18T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T11:34:33.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Blog.</title><content type='html'>Seriously. My blog is stupid. All I do is talk about how sad I am. How I can't make any decisions. Or how great my day was/life is. But what the fuck. Everything I write is so bi-polar it doesn't even goddamn make sense. So why do I even type in this space? I haven't even been decent at writing for years. I lost my savvy when I started college it seems like. I stopped reading as much, started doing other things, lost time, lost interest. What the fuck am I even interested in anymore? Reading blog entries of mine from when I was 19 up until now is like reading the journal of 10 different people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I want. I never do. I think I do, but I don't. I can never make up my mind. I want it all. I want none of it. I am probably insane. I feel too much. I think too much. I worry too much. I wish I could shut it off. I could logic it all away. Bury myself in tasks and work. Forget that I even have emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just forget it. Forget all of it. I don't want to care anymore. Being selfish is easier. Being self-reliant is easier. I'm a teenage girl. I fucking cry and whine and complain and that's all I'm good at. And THAT is depressing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-514041419952585189?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/514041419952585189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=514041419952585189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/514041419952585189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/514041419952585189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-blog.html' title='Don&apos;t Blog.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2457902004342802886</id><published>2009-01-13T16:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T16:42:01.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions.</title><content type='html'>I suppose I'm going to be heading for New York and Boston over spring break. Nu Metal Joe decided that he wanted to take on the adventure with me, so I figured I may as well. If I save only 40$ a week for the next 11 weeks I'll have enough for a plane ticket, food, and a little extra if I budget. So why the hell not? I've never been anywhere for spring break and I'm graduating next year, so I may as well take some time. I've also never been to the east coast, so fuck it. Plus we have free lodging in both places so what better time than now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started to retreat into myself quite a bit, but I've discovered that this is a good thing. I'm doing the things I want to do, and that's all that matters. I've been much happier as of late. My feelings of dread have subsided. Sure, there's a lot of could haves and should haves, but right now is all I have, and there's plenty of time for all of that in the future. I'm young. I feel old, but I'm quite young. Yes, life is hard, there's always tough decisions, but whatever. That's how you figure it all out. That's how you guide yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's just what I need to be doing. Guiding myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I could go to culinary school after I graduate from MCAD....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2457902004342802886?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2457902004342802886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2457902004342802886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2457902004342802886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2457902004342802886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/decisions.html' title='Decisions.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7961301898072964991</id><published>2009-01-10T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T09:18:00.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghost</title><content type='html'>Well something finally hit me. Or maybe I hit it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like garbage for two days. Slept most of both of them. Didn't bother calling anyone to hang out. Just hid in my apartment and ate applesauce. Funny thing was, nobody called me. No one asked me what I was doing. Nobody even sent me a text asking how I was feeling. I was completely alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really mind. But it made me really think. Am I really that alone? Who are my real friends? Do I even have any real friends? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so alone and tired most of the days. But I feel okay about it most of the time. I'm not sure if this is good or bad. Maybe this time I really disappeared for good. Does that mean I'm ready to move? Maybe it's time to go. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the sign I needed that my comfort in this town is starting to expire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a broken record. I'm just going to sit at work and eat a banana and hope that I can start to motivate myself soon. If I didn't have to work, I don't think I'd ever leave my apartment. Please let this medicine start to wear in soon. I'm too tired for anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7961301898072964991?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7961301898072964991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7961301898072964991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7961301898072964991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7961301898072964991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/ghost.html' title='Ghost'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7531420491977214540</id><published>2009-01-06T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T14:47:24.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Network</title><content type='html'>I seriously think if I had cable, I would just watch the Food Network and never ever leave. I wish I could learn everything about cooking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started taking Lexapro. I've felt like a zombie for the last two days because of it. It takes about 2 weeks for your body to get used to it I guess, but I really hope it goes much faster than that. I can barely use my brain. It's so annoying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paula Deen is the best. She always talks about quantity when she talks about food. "The cookies don't have very many calories so you can eat like 6 of 'em ya'll!" So good. I also love when she reacts to her own food with shock that it tastes good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also she just said "I FEEL LIKE I'M IN ASIA YA'LL!" Goddamn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my computer back but it doesn't even feel like mine. I wish I would have just had to buy a new one. Now that I have my old one and everything is gone from it I'm just like angry at my computer for crashing. I suppose it will pass, but I'm just really bummed out right now. Ugh. No music, no programs, no bookmarks even. All my recipes...ugh. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alison, Derek and I are going to make food I guess. I just want a nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7531420491977214540?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7531420491977214540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7531420491977214540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7531420491977214540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7531420491977214540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/food-network.html' title='Food Network'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-532524214976988875</id><published>2009-01-03T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T10:24:58.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3rd Grade Best Friends.</title><content type='html'>I guess I'm going to start taking something for my anxiety. It's really starting to effect not only me but the people around me. I can't have that. I can't be a ball of nerves all day every day. I guess you only have to take Ativan when you feel anxious, not every day, so I'll only have to take it once in awhile. I think that's a small price to pay for being able to function normally. And it will pass. It always does. And then I won't have to take anything for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody is gone on a road trip for 2 weeks. Cat leaves for Boston tomorrow. Megan goes back to Spain on Monday. I would gladly swap with any of them. Well. Maybe not with Cat. I couldn't be a Nanny. Yikes. Winter always makes me feel like I need to get the hell out of wherever I am. I just want to move somewhere that doesn't get down to below zero temperatures. Of course, I can never commit to anything because I'm too damn scared. So we'll see what happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll figure it all out soon. And I will be stable again. And I won't lean so much on my loved ones. I just have to work hard to not let anything get the best of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I need to cook and/or bake something soon. &lt;br /&gt;And my Macbook crashed and I lost everything. So if anyone wants to give me music, I would be way psyched.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-532524214976988875?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/532524214976988875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=532524214976988875' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/532524214976988875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/532524214976988875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-guess-im-going-to-start-taking.html' title='3rd Grade Best Friends.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5780726663827256480</id><published>2008-12-31T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:27:07.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obligatory New Years Post</title><content type='html'>So here it is. The end of 2008. It's a huge relief in a lot of respects, but a huge stress in a few others. I'm glad this year is over. It's been one of the worst/best/most hectic/most revealing years of my life. Thinking about myself at this time last year just makes me depressed. But it was a pivotal moment for me. A lot has changed this year. I feel more like myself, more independent, more guided, more sure of myself. I still feel insecure. Still feel a little bit needy. But I am not nearly as fucked up as I was at the end of 2007, so I suppose that's alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a lot happier and more sure of myself than I have in years. So I guess that's something. That's quite a lot of something actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So resolutions? I guess I have to have one. It's usually the same every year. Get thin, stay thin, be healthy, be happy, whatever. I think I have a few goals that are a bit more attainable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Join a gym and work out twice a week AT LEAST. Or just work out at school until I have money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Budget my money so I have something to save. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Get a good internship over the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel those are all attainable and reasonable so I won't be stuck with some vague thing like "LIKE MYSELF MORE" or whatever the fuck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I'm doing tonight yet. All I really want to do is curl up with Cody and watch a movie and drink sparkling juice and be able to kiss him at midnight. It's been like 4 years since I've been able to be with the person I'm seeing and be able to kiss them at midnight. And yeah I know it's wicked cheesy, but I would really like to be able to do that. I'm tired of shitty New Years Eves. I'm tired of winding up sad or crying or angry at the end of the night because I get screwed over or ditched or my friends are sitting in a dark room doing blow with a bunch of strangers and I have to wait for them to be done. Cool. I would much rather just hide out and have a quite New Years at home with someone I care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you later 2008. I hope 2009 is more legit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5780726663827256480?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5780726663827256480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5780726663827256480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5780726663827256480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5780726663827256480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/obligatory-new-years-post.html' title='Obligatory New Years Post'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3516579933403441365</id><published>2008-12-15T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T16:43:59.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Real Entry</title><content type='html'>I know I've been sort of a broken record lately, but I have been so busy it's hard to sit down at the computer and organize my thoughts. So now I am sitting at work at Robot Love and it is very slow, so I have been thinking a lot about the things I wish to do and accomplish and what everyone can buy me for Christmas! Hurray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things you can legitimately purchase for me for Christmas that aren't a Kitchenaid Mixer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Susan Sontag's new published journals, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947–1963.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; She was always an intriguing character for me and I really enjoy her work. I need new books anyways, so hey! Here's a good one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Vintage wallpaper.&lt;/span&gt; I want to wallpaper my new apartment since my landlord doesn't care what we do to the walls. I guess he feels it adds property value to the apartment. Fuck yeah! I want to do something really silly from the 40s or 50s. Maybe a few different ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Vintage/really awesome fabric.&lt;/span&gt; I want to reupholster my love seat because, frankly, after many years of dogs and cats and humans hanging out on it, it looks like garbage. But I like the shape of it, and think it just needs a really cool face lift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Cook books.&lt;/span&gt; Preferably baking, vegetarian or Japanese cook books. Those are my favorites. Cupcake cook books are always appreciated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Shelves! And a new dining room table! And a cute new desk!&lt;/span&gt; Vintage please. Especially if I can paint or stain it myself. I love that ish. I need shelves for all of my awesome toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Art prints or posters.&lt;/span&gt; I love art. I want more in my house.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Screens.&lt;/span&gt; Like big changing screens. That I can put around my bed. With cheesy Japanese art on them. Like cranes and stuff. I'm not sure what the technical term for those is...but I want some. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gift cards to Micheal's, Ikea, Target, American Apparel, Urban Outfitters, Robot Love, or Cliche.&lt;/span&gt; I don't really like gift cards, but I am poor and I like all of these stores and I need things from Micheal's and Ikea especially. So help a girl out, man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there are some sensible suggestions I suppose. I'm ready to make the new apartment as mine as possible and not ever have to ask for permission from any room mate to do anything. I know I've been saying that over and over but cripes, I can't wait to be able to tear apart my apartment when I'm working on a project, leave my dishes for a day, rearrange whenever I want and not have to answer to anyone but myself and The Fish. But she'll be psyched on whatever I want prollyably. Alright!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to start rearranging everything tonight and probably FINALLY be able to sleep at the new place. Yay! Yay new place! Yay own apartment! Yay everything! Except the cold. No yay for the cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3516579933403441365?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3516579933403441365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3516579933403441365' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3516579933403441365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3516579933403441365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/real-entry.html' title='A Real Entry'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7175337886784575353</id><published>2008-12-14T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T21:36:39.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fondant and Blizzards</title><content type='html'>It's snowing so much right now. Like, white out blizzard. It was 40 degrees yesterday. I don't get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start baking again but I STILL haven't had time. I'm so frustrated. I just want to cook and bake and now that I've discovered fondant I don't even know what to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catherine gave me a book full of vegetarian recipes today. I can't wait to make like all of them. They looked amazing. I just need to cook. I NEED TO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost all moved in to my apartment now. Niki won't be out until tomorrow and I still have some things at the old place, but I'm mostly out. I'm so relieved. I just want it to be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really bored with the internet. I need a new book. Halp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7175337886784575353?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7175337886784575353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7175337886784575353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7175337886784575353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7175337886784575353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/fondant-and-blizzards.html' title='Fondant and Blizzards'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6607263321091615730</id><published>2008-12-10T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T17:47:12.231-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Record</title><content type='html'>I have one test left and some free cookies to consume and I am FINISHED with the first semester of my Junior year. Shocking.&lt;br /&gt;This is the hardest I have ever worked at school. The most work I've ever done. The busiest I have ever been. And I'm happy. Yes, It's stressful, but I love my jobs, I love my school, I love my program, I love my co workers and class mates. I am just happy. Things are really starting to fit. I am happy to be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Cody is scared to graduate, but I can't say that I'm not looking forward to him being done with school. I'm looking forward to being able to spend some real time together. Looking forward to being able to sleep in the same bed and not have to get up for anything or anyone in the morning. To just rest together. I'm excited to see where the future takes him. He's so smart and committed to his education that I'm sure wherever he ends up will be the best choice for him. I'm really proud of him. He hasn't let anyone get in his way, and that is so commendable. Okay I'm done now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going out with everyone from the shop tonight to celebrate Cerny's birthday. It should be a good time. And tomorrow I get to go out with all the BS:VIS kids and celebrate a semester well done. I like to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Fish needs to go back to the vet for a check up tomorrow morning. I hope she is okay. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6607263321091615730?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6607263321091615730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6607263321091615730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6607263321091615730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6607263321091615730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/broken-record.html' title='Broken Record'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6302061709137223355</id><published>2008-12-06T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T10:11:09.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to know your plans</title><content type='html'>I don't mean to get so frustrated. There are things about myself that don't align with what other people want sometimes. It's just how I am. I am outgoing and stubborn and affectionate. Blame it on me being the youngest child. Or being a Leo. Or whatever the fuck you want to blame it on. I can't help who I am or how I feel. I am very feeling. I am emotional and intuitive. I can be logical, but I tend to let my emotions get the best of me. I feel that this prevents me from ever making any sort of real connection with anyone. I don't know why, but that's just how I feel. I don't feel smart. I don't feel like I'm an intelligent person. I don't know who I am. But that is part of growing up. And I'm trying. Trying to let go, trying to be better, trying to control my emotions more. I just can't help it. I'm always slammed with work and school and plans because I secretly love to have lots of stuff to do. And I feel obligated to my friends a lot of the time. I forget to give myself time for me sometimes. This has to change. When I have my own apartment, I hope you will come hang out with me there. I will have kitten and that's better than having no company. I want to be home more. Want to be out more. Want to make friends. Want to keep friends. Don't want to hang out with anyone. Only want to hang out with one person. Hate being bother. Love being bothered. Hate going out. Can't stand being home. Love going to parties. Can't stand being around lots of people. I am full of contradictions and anomalies and half truths and misinformation. I am intelligent and independent and brave. I am stupid and needy and terrified. I don't need anyone to make me happy. I can't be happy alone. I don't make any sense. I never make any sense. I am flakey. I am a great friend. I am sad all the time. I am mostly a happy person. A cynic and an optimist. I am struggling. I don't know what I am yet. I am a monster. A hydra. I am lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to do everything. I want to be someone.&lt;br /&gt;I want to do nothing. I want to collapse.&lt;br /&gt;I am searching. I am finding. &lt;br /&gt;I am slowly discovering who I am and who I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;Please be patient with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6302061709137223355?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6302061709137223355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6302061709137223355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6302061709137223355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6302061709137223355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-want-to-know-your-plans.html' title='I want to know your plans'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2930215379858869916</id><published>2008-12-05T14:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T14:35:55.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't have any money.</title><content type='html'>I'm moving next weekend. I'm running out of money. Loans don't come until end of January which means I have to pick up shifts like every day. Crapz. I don't even think that will be possible. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to pack and move and hang out. This weekend will be hectic. Next week will kill me until Tuesday night then I am pretty much home free. I have to take a test on Thursday that, at this point, I don't care if I pass or fail. And then off to MRM to watch presentations (since we already gave our final) and eat cookies and drink free soda. THEN I AM DONE. It is so close I can taste it. CAN'T WAIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I like having days off unless Im doing tons of stuff. I don't like sitting around very much. This will be effective when I start working out again hopefully. I gotta change my life a little bit I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just psyched to be almost done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2930215379858869916?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2930215379858869916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2930215379858869916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2930215379858869916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2930215379858869916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-dont-have-any-money.html' title='I don&apos;t have any money.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-1210257278327514534</id><published>2008-12-01T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T17:42:05.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things you can buy me for christmas</title><content type='html'>Cupcake Necklace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=4430&amp;cat=252"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=4430&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R2D2 Backpack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=4255&amp;cat=252"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=4255&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sprinkle Ring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=4065&amp;cat=252"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=4065&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lego iPod speaker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=3710&amp;cat=254"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=3710&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wet Cats book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=4266&amp;cat=254"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=4266&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's Cook Japanese Food Book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=3219&amp;cat=254"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www1.fredflare.com/image.php?type=T&amp;productid=3219&amp;sz=&amp;path=products_hover"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AND a Kitchen Aid Mixer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-1210257278327514534?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/1210257278327514534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=1210257278327514534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1210257278327514534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/1210257278327514534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/12/things-you-can-buy-me-for-christmas.html' title='Things you can buy me for christmas'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2382798505912308420</id><published>2008-11-30T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T20:07:25.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down to the wire.</title><content type='html'>Only two more weeks of school left. I feel like I have so much to do, but then when I look at my To Do list it seems totally manageable. My brain is so tired. I can't make any more decisions. I just want these two weeks to be over. I want to move. I want to have my own space. And I want to spend a month RELAXING. But I will definitely get bored after about a week I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to buy a lot of books. And I would like to read them. If anyone has suggestions (do NOT say Twilight), I would love to hear them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope once this semester is over I can spend more time with Cody. I'm really tired of missing him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go out on Friday for Alex's coming home party since I haven't been to a party in quite some time. It ended up being just what I needed. I got to see Madison and Sandy and Mike and all the kids. I even got to see Josh for a minute. And I made a new friend. So all in all, it was pretty worthwhile. It was nice to just put all of my everything aside for a few hours and just breathe easy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came home last night, I discovered a large pet crate in my living room with small squeaks emanating from it. Upon closer inspection, I discovered two kittens sitting in front of the kennel door. Jonah decided to get two kittens without telling me. I was shocked at first, but now I've gotten used to it. I was more worried about my cat getting sick than anything. So hopefully everything will be okay. Once I move out she's going straight to the vet for a check up. I'm a totally over protective mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's back to futzing with indesign, trying to finish my Dance Band character outline and then sweet sleep, until I get up in the morning to do chores and more homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2382798505912308420?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2382798505912308420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2382798505912308420' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2382798505912308420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2382798505912308420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/down-to-wire.html' title='Down to the wire.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6252243527885126648</id><published>2008-11-25T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T13:02:33.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeward!</title><content type='html'>I'm leaving class at 3:50. I'm picking up The Fish (who, for those of you oblivious to my old lady-ness, is my kitten), picking up my brother, and getting the fuck out of town for a few days. PSYCHED. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baking/cooking regiment for tomorrow includes:&lt;br /&gt;1. Marble pumpkin cheesecake&lt;br /&gt;2. Nut goodie candy&lt;br /&gt;3. Candy bar cookies&lt;br /&gt;4. Spritz cookies&lt;br /&gt;5. Gingerbread cookies&lt;br /&gt;6. Salmon and Wild Rice chowder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and of course: THANKSGIVING MUTHERFUCKIN DINNER!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited. I get to see my fam, hang out with kitten, see the Tula pup and the Riley cat, and bake and cook and YESSSS. So excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just high five me today if you see me. You will get a fucking SWEET high five.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6252243527885126648?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6252243527885126648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6252243527885126648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6252243527885126648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6252243527885126648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/homeward.html' title='Homeward!'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2214855058935771086</id><published>2008-11-21T10:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T10:54:49.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's almost time.</title><content type='html'>I found my FAVORITE pair of jeans on ebay! I'm so excited. I had a pair that I wore for like a year and a half almost every day and one day they just gave out and ripped in like 4 different places. I was so heartbroken. I still have them sitting in the bottom of my drawer. But randomly on Tuesday night, thanks to Val, I decided to look them up and see if I could find a cheaper pair. They normally retail about $185, but I found a few pairs for about $100 on random sites. I usually don't have much luck on ebay, but I decided to look there anyways and lo and behold, a pair of jeans in my size for only $50!!!!!! I was so psyched I bought them immediately. I can't wait for them to get here. I'm going to wear them for like a week straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost time to go home. 4 more days and I get to see my whole family, hang out with my brother, bake, bring my kittens with me, and eat lots of yums. I wish that Cody could come with me, but I'm glad he gets to see his family too. We both need a break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is exciting. I'm just so glad that this weekend has arrived. I get paid today, I'm gonna go to Whole Foods and get lunches and I'm going to buy new mittens for myself since I have none mittens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Chai Latte cupcakes I made were a hit. I want a kitchen aid mixer SO BADLY. Someone should buy me one for christmas. And a canon camera battery charger so I can start taking pictures of my baked goods for the blog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I was reading &lt;a href="http://jezebel.com/5094798/is-a-rape-joke-ever-funny?skyline=true&amp;s=i"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; on Jezebel this morning. I didn't laugh until the very last paragraph. Does that make me a bad person? Fuck it. It's a goddamn good joke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2214855058935771086?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2214855058935771086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2214855058935771086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2214855058935771086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2214855058935771086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-almost-time.html' title='It&apos;s almost time.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2294904270871260038</id><published>2008-11-18T12:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T13:03:32.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhausted.</title><content type='html'>Only one more week to go until Thanksgiving break. I cannot fucking wait for Thanksgiving this year. I've never been more excited to go home in my life. I just need a legitimate break from the city. Things have been so high stress lately, I'm just getting really exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dinner party last night was a lot of fun. I love making good food with my friends and drinking wine and laughing. It was a perfect evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I'm getting tattooed. I can't wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know what to write right now. I'm just glad I said everything that I needed to say. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I've been much happier today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hang out with my mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2294904270871260038?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2294904270871260038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2294904270871260038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2294904270871260038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2294904270871260038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/exhausted.html' title='Exhausted.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3071102529071356123</id><published>2008-11-15T10:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T10:34:48.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have a Lot of Homework To Do...</title><content type='html'>Last night was a strange mixture of awesome and awkward. I think I'm just the most gregariously awkward human on the planet. I felt very out of place and very right where I needed to be at several different points in the night. I found it strange that in one moment I could feel so like I belonged, and in the next feel completely uncomfortable in my own skin. I think I learned a lot about myself last night. I like learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have so much homework to do, and I haven't done a shred of it yet. I like ideas more than work I think. Well, obviously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is pretty cool:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.popflower.fr/public/Décoration/pia-ibride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 587px;" src="http://blog.popflower.fr/public/Décoration/pia-ibride.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.ibride.fr/ibride_en.htm"&gt;ibride&lt;/a&gt; is making some of my favorite design lately. I had never heard of them until we got their stuff in at Robotlove but hot dang, it's effing amazing. I so want some of their work tattooed on me. So beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am disappointed in things a lot lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3071102529071356123?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3071102529071356123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3071102529071356123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3071102529071356123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3071102529071356123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-have-lot-of-homework-to-do.html' title='I Have a Lot of Homework To Do...'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6228594186728335736</id><published>2008-11-14T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T14:10:10.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes Fridays are Cool....</title><content type='html'>Thanks to Greg over at &lt;a href="http://www.perfectporridge.com/"&gt;Perfect Porridge&lt;/a&gt;, Jake and I get to go see The Faint tonight and review them! So excited. I've never seen The Faint live and I've wanted to since like 8th grade. I hope they play a lot of old stuff. Cripes that makes me feel like an old lady... but hey I get to buy drinks at the bar like an adult! Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was pretty excellent. Bowling of course. I actually got 100! I was so excited. Yeah, I'm really that bad at bowling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I fixed my schedule. I'm going to take Ethics and Aesthetics on Thursday mornings now, which I guess is okay because then I'll be done with class by noon. But eff. I was really looking forward to Advertising Account Management. What a nerd, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a lot of thoughts lately that I don't normally have. I wonder how much I will change in the coming year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also &lt;a href="http://www.curiosite.com/condometric/enindex.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; was really funny to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6228594186728335736?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6228594186728335736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6228594186728335736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6228594186728335736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6228594186728335736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/sometimes-fridays-are-cool.html' title='Sometimes Fridays are Cool....'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7910633609375420784</id><published>2008-11-13T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:24:06.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the End of My Week.</title><content type='html'>All I have to do is suffer through another hour and a half of Biological Systems, aka the worst class I've ever had to endure, hang out in Digital Marketing for a few hours and then I am HOME FREE. BOOM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally am getting some of my deposit back from my last evil landlord (you know, the one that showed up unannounced at all hours to show our apartment when it was a mess, i was naked and cody was in my bed.). He made up a bunch of lies about how we weren't out until 2am on September 2nd (so not true) and how the apartment was a mess (slightly true, but it was MUCH cleaner than when Bill and I moved in), but in the end my charming wit and cunning won him over. We only get half our deposit back, but it's better than nothing. So fuck that guy. I hope I never see his chubby ridiculousness again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also everything is just about finalized for my move out next month. High fives. So stoked to live alone FINALLY. I think I'm just goddamn impossible to live with. Except Bill was the best. I wish I lived with him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Thursday night class for next semester got effing cancelled. Which means I have to rearrange my next semesters schedule again. DO NOT LIKE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to eat right now is stir fry. Just a but load of stir fry. So many vegetables. Yummmmmmmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though bowling is in order tonight. But when is it not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7910633609375420784?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7910633609375420784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7910633609375420784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7910633609375420784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7910633609375420784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/welcome-to-end-of-my-week.html' title='Welcome to the End of My Week.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-176471137480200481</id><published>2008-11-10T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:27:38.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Motimate.</title><content type='html'>Alright fine. I get it. I'm only going to be unhappy if I let myself be unhappy. Well you know what? Fuck it. I don't want to be unhappy so I'm not going to be goddammit! And yeah. So what if you don't like him? So what if things aren't the best right now? So what if things aren't exactly what I want them to be right now. It gets better, right? Like, things have to fucking suck before they can get better because if they were good all the time there would be no room for improvement, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a fucking crusader for my own piece of mind today. AND I WANT A GODDAMN KITCHENAID MIXER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something that makes it a little better. Next semesters schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Class 9:30 - noon&lt;br /&gt;Work 12-5 OR 5-10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: Work 10:45 - 2 &lt;br /&gt;Independent study, which is event planning and coordinating for an exhibition at MCAD. Yeah. It's a real job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Class 9:30 to Noon&lt;br /&gt;Class 6:30 to 9. &lt;br /&gt;Look at that huge gap in between! Ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Work 12-5&lt;br /&gt;Class 6:30 - 9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday: Class 1-6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: Work 10:45-? (Either 2 or Close.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: OFF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's that. We'll see how sane I stay. &lt;br /&gt;And I'm moving soon.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll get to be all by myself. And that feels sooooo good.&lt;br /&gt;FUCK IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-176471137480200481?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/176471137480200481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=176471137480200481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/176471137480200481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/176471137480200481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/motimate.html' title='Motimate.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2116548459696721518</id><published>2008-11-08T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T10:19:35.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustrated/Unnoticed</title><content type='html'>I feel really sick of trying.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of feeling ignored.&lt;br /&gt;I am defeated.&lt;br /&gt;What more do you want from me?&lt;br /&gt;There's only so much a person can take...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2116548459696721518?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2116548459696721518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2116548459696721518' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2116548459696721518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2116548459696721518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/frustratedunnoticed.html' title='Frustrated/Unnoticed'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-710254255957507515</id><published>2008-11-07T14:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T15:11:31.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Materialism.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3011/3011621080_5b3a4f1a08.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Jamie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-710254255957507515?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/710254255957507515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=710254255957507515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/710254255957507515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/710254255957507515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/materialism.html' title='Materialism.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5939072363702109093</id><published>2008-11-05T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:33:52.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It feels like Christmas</title><content type='html'>I want to give everyone a fucking hug today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy dixx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe it. The first Presidential election I get to vote in. This is an important milestone in American history. I'm just so infinitely psyched today. Nothing can be bad. Even if I get hit by a car, I will get wheeled into the hospital with an ear to ear grin on my face. Fuck it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America, you don't suck as bad as I thought you did. Way to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5939072363702109093?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5939072363702109093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5939072363702109093' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5939072363702109093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5939072363702109093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-feels-like-christmas.html' title='It feels like Christmas'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5289851161855076771</id><published>2008-11-04T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T12:07:31.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Democratic Erections</title><content type='html'>Every election day, I miss Harrison Cross.&lt;br /&gt;"We aw awr preased by yo democrashi and democratic erections."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. I voted like a week ago. Everywhere is giving out free shit if you voted. I made cupcakes. I am giving out free shit if you voted. I'm probably going bowling tonight. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High fives all around today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5289851161855076771?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5289851161855076771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5289851161855076771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5289851161855076771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5289851161855076771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/democratic-erections.html' title='Democratic Erections'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-122608317576056656</id><published>2008-11-01T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T10:42:12.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween'd.</title><content type='html'>So last night was halloween. I dressed up to go to work. No one came in between 5 and 7. I ate a bunch of candy. Then I went home and watched the 100 scariest movie moments on Bravo. I went to Cody's at 11. I was in bed by 2am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had a legitimately amazing halloween in like 3 years. Since I moved to the cities. Hanging out with Cody was awesome of course, but I think he was feeling a little bummed out too about not going out and celebrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I went to a party and then played Rock Band and got silly all night, which was good. And tonight is Sandy's post-halloween party. I'll wear the same costume, different make-up probably. Maybe different shoes too. Haha god I'm so cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recap. Halloween was sort of a bust this year. BUT. At least I didn't end up crying and drunk for 24 hours straight like last year. Yeah. Yikes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-122608317576056656?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/122608317576056656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=122608317576056656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/122608317576056656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/122608317576056656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/11/halloweend.html' title='Halloween&apos;d.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5949076301899052040</id><published>2008-10-29T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T14:26:45.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Surprise; I'm Apathetic!</title><content type='html'>Things have remained overwhelmingly the same in the last few days.&lt;br /&gt;I have a cold. I carved a pumpkin that looked like haunter from Pokemon yesterday, which was completely bad ass. My thumb nails are way too long. I still need a costume. It's whatever. That has totally become my catch phrase lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey Jamie! How's school?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I dunno...It's whatever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Apathy++. I'm just fucking tired of everything all the time.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm probably moving in December, so I'll have my own place which will be badical. I dunno. Fuck it. That's all I can say lately. It's whatever, fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish I could sit down and have a nice long conversation with someone and make everything better. Wishful thinking? Yeah probably. Fuck it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want Cat to leave. &lt;br /&gt;I only wanna hang out with The Fish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5949076301899052040?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5949076301899052040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5949076301899052040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5949076301899052040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5949076301899052040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-surprise-im-apathetic.html' title='What A Surprise; I&apos;m Apathetic!'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-158608501525733825</id><published>2008-10-27T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T15:47:36.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>おいしい!</title><content type='html'>I feel it's important to note that Mike introduced me to an amazing restaurant in central Minneapolis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's called Midori's Floating World. It's a cute little Japanese cafe, with the best japanese food I have ever had (Besides of course what my host mother made me). They even had Takoyaki, which are little octopus dumplings that are probably the most delicious thing EVER. Mike and I were equally ecstatic about them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prices are reasonable. They're definitely not trying to overcharge. So if you like good food, you should probably google that shit and hit it up. I want to go there every day. Kitsune Soba and Takoyaki for every meal!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I made pumpkin cookies yesterday and they were awesome. Now I just don't know what to bake next!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-158608501525733825?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/158608501525733825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=158608501525733825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/158608501525733825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/158608501525733825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-feel-its-important-to-note-that-mike.html' title='おいしい!'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6621680192990405550</id><published>2008-10-25T09:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T09:57:07.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love the internet!</title><content type='html'>A bunch of kids were in Robot Love this morning from Thunder Bay. I got to talking to one of them about tattoos as he and his friend were commenting on my octopus and hello kitty. I mentioned my half sleeve idea, and he starts telling me about these pokemon tattoos his friend has. Turns out his friends ideas weren't so original. But bad ass none the less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's what his friend has tattooed on her chest: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.spacecoyote.com/art/tattoo/charmander.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can check out the rest of this guys flash &lt;a href="http://www.spacecoyote.com/art/tattoo.php"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6621680192990405550?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6621680192990405550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6621680192990405550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6621680192990405550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6621680192990405550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-love-internet.html' title='I love the internet!'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-3178586715980162406</id><published>2008-10-24T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T12:52:24.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck it.</title><content type='html'>I finally decided what I'm going to be for halloween. It's going to be pretty easy to pull off and will hopefully be hilarious. So high fives all around for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been bowling twice this week already. Probably going for round 3 tonight. I think I may be getting slightly pathetic. Or maybe just slightly more awesome...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are still lame. Most things. School is still kicking my ass. I still have very little free time (I'm just sitting at school taking a break from homework right now, and then I'll get to go to work. Woo hoo!). But Amanda was kind enough to pick up my shift this Saturday night, which means a little relaxin' time. Probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping things change soon. If they don't, I might have to make some drastic decisions. I'm tired of so much right now. Tired of being stood up, being let down, being the only one that seems to care about so many things going on around me. Just exhausted with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm anxious to get tattooed again. Seriously. I hope we start my half sleeve soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-3178586715980162406?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/3178586715980162406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=3178586715980162406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3178586715980162406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/3178586715980162406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-finally-decided-what-im-going-to-be.html' title='Fuck it.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-214021498590690353</id><published>2008-10-22T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T11:34:39.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life in Bullet Points</title><content type='html'>- I voted yesterday! Absentee ballots for the win!&lt;br /&gt;- Homework? All day every day!&lt;br /&gt;- Cosmic bowling. Bestbest. &lt;br /&gt;- Baking is pretty much the only thing that makes me really happy anymore.&lt;br /&gt;- Miss Cody.&lt;br /&gt;- Miss my parents.&lt;br /&gt;- Hating on everything.&lt;br /&gt;- Cat is probably the only friend that makes plans with me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;- I still don't know what I want to be for halloween. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How cool does that sound?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-214021498590690353?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/214021498590690353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=214021498590690353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/214021498590690353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/214021498590690353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-life-in-bullet-points.html' title='My Life in Bullet Points'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-734176865169009681</id><published>2008-10-20T08:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T08:52:38.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's happening.</title><content type='html'>It's that time of year again where I find my concentration skills waning. Seasonal depression kicks in, I lay in bed for far too long, my motivation doesn't exist and I start falling behind in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS CAN NOT HAPPEN RIGHT NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to hide this week. I need to work. I can't play. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have a lot to accomplish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-3 assignments for marketing, 2-3 assignments for Vis studio, Meeting and work on our midterm review for Bio sys, AND...God I don't even know what else for digital marketing. Thank fuck I have no homework in project tracking this week or I would for sure be shooting myself for taking the weekend off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate myself sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-734176865169009681?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/734176865169009681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=734176865169009681' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/734176865169009681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/734176865169009681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-happening.html' title='It&apos;s happening.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2770442007460505545</id><published>2008-10-17T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T14:20:36.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Take It Personally...</title><content type='html'>I'm sort of a tough broad. &lt;br /&gt;Or at least that's what I'm told. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty laid back, I don't care about much, I don't get into peoples drama for any other reason but to laugh at it, and for the most part, I keep to myself. I don't cry a lot. I don't mind if people don't like me (I figure it's usually with good reason OR I probably don't want to be their friend anyways if there is no reason). I don't usually get my feelings hurt (if you have an insult for me, I've probably heard it from 1000 other people. I get it. I suck). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are some times, and some people, that just really get under my skin. Things that scathe worse than any thing else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get a little personal here. &lt;br /&gt;You probably shouldn't read this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was basically told to leave last night. I understood, because he had homework and was crabby and what not. However. It was the way that it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited all day to see him for 10 minutes. He didn't kiss me when I came in. He barely looked at me the whole time. Then said I wouldn't see him until probably Tuesday and said I should probably go. Then he begrudgingly got up to hug me goodbye only after I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. I got in my car and I cried. I bawled. It really hurt. I felt like I was absolutely being dismissed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I don't really know how to feel. It hurt a lot. And I don't know if it was just because he was upset and stressed or whatever. It hurt. And I need to vent about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean... seriously? What do I do wrong? That's how I feel right now. It was searing. Honestly. I barely see him anymore because we're both so busy and when I do see him for a brief moment that's how I get treated? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does this mean? Is that it? See you later? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in my stomach today. I just don't feel right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2770442007460505545?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2770442007460505545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2770442007460505545' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2770442007460505545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2770442007460505545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/dont-take-it-personally.html' title='Don&apos;t Take It Personally...'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2472720171578329258</id><published>2008-10-14T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T17:53:22.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Will Never Understand</title><content type='html'>1. Suzie Q's teaching style. &lt;br /&gt;2. Why pumpkin pie, made of something so yucky, is so damn delicious.&lt;br /&gt;3. Why people giving powerpoint presentations often times just read off the slides. They're your visual, not your notes. Cut it out goddammit!&lt;br /&gt;4. Why I'm better at ideas than implementation. I guess I really am an ENFP...&lt;br /&gt;5. Marketing.&lt;br /&gt;6. Bars and people that frequent them.&lt;br /&gt;7. Why everyone thinks I'm much younger than I am initially. I don't know if this is good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;8. How someone so different from me can be one of my favorite people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;9. Wisconsinites. Oh my god. I think I just hate the way they talk.&lt;br /&gt;10. Why when you tell people you don't do something (i.e. eat meat) they immediately shove that thing/action in your face (i.e. LOOK AT THIS STEAK SANDWICH YUM MMMM MEAT YOU WANT SOME I KNOW YOU DO!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an informational interview at &lt;a href="http://fasthorseinc.com/blog"&gt;Fast Horse Inc.&lt;/a&gt; today. I'm pretty sure that's the sort of place I want to work when I grow up. I met with a guy named Taylor, and he was awesome, and he really soothed my worries about jobs/internships. He was great, laid back, funny and an all around cool guy. I feel much better now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are weird lately. I'm moving again in December into a one bedroom hopefully. We'll see. I need some stability. Or do I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2472720171578329258?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2472720171578329258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2472720171578329258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2472720171578329258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2472720171578329258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-i-will-never-understand_14.html' title='Things I Will Never Understand'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7944665900002957427</id><published>2008-10-12T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T10:52:54.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schedules.</title><content type='html'>I picked up a shift at Robot Love today in order to get last Saturday morning off. Let me just say, I am definitely a slave to my schedule. I didn't really realize it until a switch in my schedule happened. It seriously threw me off so hard. I had planned to do homework and make cupcakes and watch Project Runway today. I need days like that. I need to unwind! Srsly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point being that I'm 21. I'm spontaneous. I adjust well. And yet, when my Sundays get fucked with, I'm not a happy lady. Any other day of the week, throw anything at me, I'll adapt, I'll do it, hell I'll do it with a smile on my face even. But mess with my Sundays, my homework day, my relaxing day, my one day that I'm not busy for 8 hours or more during my waking hours, and I'm a cranky little shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good thing is that I think Kristoffer knows that about me, because he offered to swing in around 3 so I could take a break and eat some lunch and take a breather. What a sweetie. I've been discovering lately that he and I are much more similar than I had initially thought. We have similar neurosis, similar extraverted/introverted tendencies, similar ways of dealing with work and stress. It's a good thing I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.. Schedules. I die without mine. Period. Guys?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7944665900002957427?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7944665900002957427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7944665900002957427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7944665900002957427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7944665900002957427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/schedules.html' title='Schedules.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4883213148424896163</id><published>2008-10-11T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T12:53:27.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Cat Lady.</title><content type='html'>I always sing songs to my cat replacing certain words with her name. I do that to Cody's cat too. And I did it to Bill's cats when we lived together. Why am I so weird? Am I really that weird?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4883213148424896163?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4883213148424896163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4883213148424896163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4883213148424896163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4883213148424896163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/crazy-cat-lady.html' title='Crazy Cat Lady.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-629159833423318606</id><published>2008-10-10T16:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T17:00:11.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Will Never Understand</title><content type='html'>1. My ex-boyfriends. All of them.&lt;br /&gt;2. Why people from LA always fucking talk about being from LA. NO ONE CARES.&lt;br /&gt;3. Why anyone is attracted to me.&lt;br /&gt;4. Why every time I go to my bank, someone, lady or gentleman, tells me I'm hot/a supermodel/gorgeous/etc... &lt;br /&gt;5. Why they can't make an easier way to pluck your eyebrows. &lt;br /&gt;6. Money and economics.&lt;br /&gt;7. Why anyone would ever assume I am an art student.&lt;br /&gt;8. Rush hour traffic jams. It's like... you get in your car, and use the accelerator to go forward. How hard is that? Honestly.&lt;br /&gt;9. My inherent feeling of responsibility for everything.&lt;br /&gt;10. Why any of my Biological Systems teachers are still employed at MCAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for this week... trust me, I have a billion more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-629159833423318606?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/629159833423318606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=629159833423318606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/629159833423318606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/629159833423318606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-i-will-never-understand.html' title='Things I Will Never Understand'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2077628453837711052</id><published>2008-10-09T13:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T13:11:48.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Service Announcement</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/88pf0TBZRa0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/88pf0TBZRa0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Childhood obesity is a real problem, guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2077628453837711052?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2077628453837711052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2077628453837711052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2077628453837711052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2077628453837711052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/public-service-announcement.html' title='Public Service Announcement'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7886305799624584611</id><published>2008-10-08T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T21:30:14.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.</title><content type='html'>How do you compose a letter thanking someone for the impact they've had on your life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how do you do that when they're about to die? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I even say? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7886305799624584611?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7886305799624584611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7886305799624584611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7886305799624584611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7886305799624584611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/wow.html' title='Wow.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6803823491140321927</id><published>2008-10-08T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T12:23:34.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't have to go to college.</title><content type='html'>I've been up since 6:45am. &lt;br /&gt;I talked to Jerry about studying abroad in Toronto next fall and focusing on fashion communications. &lt;br /&gt;I talked to Christine about getting an internship and getting my resume and cover letter in order.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really doing it. I'm making everything go. I'm doing it. Me. &lt;br /&gt;I'm proud of me. You should be too. I'm not one to take the reins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I'm the project manager for my Vis Studio class. And my entire group congratulated me on being an awesome leader yesterday. You have no idea how good that feels. I feel like I'm succeeding where I want to succeed. YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having tea with Niki at 6:30. I'm exhilarated. Nervous. Scared. Excited. All of the above. &lt;br /&gt;I hope it goes well. It will go well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maxwel and Bill are here. Maxwel is getting tattooed. Bill is telling me to blog about him. I miss Bill. I wish we still lived together. He's the goddamn best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody just told me he wants to go to Grad school in Houston probably. &lt;br /&gt;Would I move to Texas? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6803823491140321927?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6803823491140321927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6803823491140321927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6803823491140321927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6803823491140321927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-dont-have-to-go-to-college.html' title='You don&apos;t have to go to college.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5913426415739858137</id><published>2008-10-06T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T18:04:26.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance Band</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tySONnFz41s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tySONnFz41s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my marketing class, we're doing a project where we make a new marketing plan for a local band. We picked Dance Band. Then Nick found their official youtube postings. I am in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5913426415739858137?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5913426415739858137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5913426415739858137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5913426415739858137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5913426415739858137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/dance-band.html' title='Dance Band'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-6445222560040166942</id><published>2008-10-06T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T10:58:57.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness.</title><content type='html'>I saw some of my old traits coming out this weekend at Black and White ball. I did not like that. I immediately got them in check, and I feel back to normal now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niki and I spent some time together on friday. It made me really happy. It also made me realize how much both of us had changed, and yet how similar we both still were. This was comforting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody and I had a very long talk on Saturday night about some things. It was so refreshing to sit down and have a logical talk about how we were both feeling. Neither one of us interrupted the other, we heard each other out, we stated our grievances, talked it out, and ended up happier because of it. I understand him much better now, and I think he understands me better too. This is by far the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It feels really good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny and I had a talk on Saturday also. I was big on talking this weekend I suppose. This talk was much harder to swallow and a lot more uncomfortable. I just hope everything will work itself out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I did all of my laundry. Sat around. I beat 3 Sudoku challenges in an hour and a half. I felt really awesome about this for some reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is monday. I have homework. I'm cleaning. Spending time with The Fish. I hate when I'm gone all weekend and I don't get t cuddle her. She is getting so big!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday I meet with Jerry Allan at 8:30am to discuss studying at Ryerson for a semester. This might be exactly what I need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I need shelves. I need to start exercising. I need to clean the entire house. I need to grocery shop. I need to only cook at home and not eat out. I need to not drink. I really really need to update my budget and pay my electric bill. Baby steps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-6445222560040166942?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/6445222560040166942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=6445222560040166942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6445222560040166942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/6445222560040166942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/madness.html' title='Madness.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7509918690421899390</id><published>2008-10-01T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:08:37.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairy Godmother Plz?</title><content type='html'>The dress I had planned on wearing to the Black and White Artist's Ball this year, surprise, doesn't fit over my gigantic ribcage. Honestly. My ribs are bigger than my waist. I don't know what to do now. I have like...tonight to go shopping and that is absolutely it. FUXXXXXXX.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to have to raid the mall on fucking super speed. I don't even know where to start looking. GAH. I hate being crunched for time I H8 it even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLUS I don't even have shoes! I am going to drive Cat and Danny crazy tonight when we go shopping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRICKFRICKFRICKFRICK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to end up just buying a dress from American Appy and sluttin' it up, I just know it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Chris, I hope you got YSL black lip gloss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7509918690421899390?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7509918690421899390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7509918690421899390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7509918690421899390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7509918690421899390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/10/fairy-godmother-plz.html' title='Fairy Godmother Plz?'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7123071104546521330</id><published>2008-09-29T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T16:30:41.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG TWINZ</title><content type='html'>So Cody's family took us to a twins game yesterday. They killed it big time. 6-0.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really a big sports fan, but holy crap, I had a blast yesterday. Just spending time with Cody outside of laying in bed at the end of the day was really really nice. I feel like we haven't hung out like that since we moved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week will prove to be hectic, as per usual. I have a lot of work to do. I can't slack off like I did all weekend. I just can't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just...I don't want things to be so hectic like they were before. I need to stay grounded and get my work done. That is priority number one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7123071104546521330?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7123071104546521330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7123071104546521330' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7123071104546521330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7123071104546521330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/omg-twinz.html' title='OMG TWINZ'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-8907411724634636639</id><published>2008-09-27T10:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T10:21:45.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask and you shall receive</title><content type='html'>I wanted a great night, and I got one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started out meeting up with Chris and Lottie, getting sandwiches and hanging out watching BIODOME while listening to New Found Glory (aka reliving my high school days). Not bad. After that we scurried over to Zack and Lance's loft (after Lottie let me borrow some shoes and a shirt) to hang out and see Anastasia's MISS HIGH TIMES NOVEMBER FEATURE (soooooooo good). Cat and Danny were bugging me all night to meet them out in Northeast for some drinks, so when Lottie went home and Chris decided to go to the 19 bar, I hopped in the car and headed over to some hilarious dive bar called Jimmy's where I met up with Cat, Jake, Danny and Cat's 50 year old gay friend Billy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after sitting around talking about video games, taking Bazooka Joe shots (delicious, by the way), and watching Billy's 40 plus friends falling all over themselves, we headed over to Jake and Danny's and played Rock Band until about 6AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole night was just...fun. I laughed all night long, had good talks, was ridiculous with my friends and drank a little too much, but even though I only got 3 hours of sleep and I had to work at 10:45, I feel awesome. It was just really good to go out and come back and be silly and not have to compete with people and not have to try to be "cool". I just got to be me. I got to be loud and outrageous and fall down laughing and sing my guts out and make people laugh and talk about Pokemon. Everyone agreed we need to go out together more often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just A GOOD FUCKING NIGHT. And I needed it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-8907411724634636639?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/8907411724634636639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=8907411724634636639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8907411724634636639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/8907411724634636639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/ask-and-you-shall-receive.html' title='Ask and you shall receive'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2893660730051983702</id><published>2008-09-26T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T15:14:29.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fits and Starts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v55/timetodancekid/?action=view&amp;current=Photo117.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v55/timetodancekid/Photo117.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAI I GOT A NEW TATTY. (O SUP LOTTIE?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I've said before. I feel like my life is always flowing in fits and starts. It never really just goes. It goes for a long time and then sputters then stops then starts the stops the starts again. I don't know. I never feel constant. Not since my grandma died a few years ago. All of the constants in my life disappeared soon after that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd really like to stop complaining about this. I'd really like it to go away. As much as I love spontaneity, I would love a little structure to go with it. It's so impossible to find the balance between chaos and calm, but that's where I like to be. Right in the middle of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes feel like certain people are getting tired of me. I feel that way right now. It's making me a little scared. But why should I worry? I ALWAYS WORRY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, the new TV on the Radio is really good. I never really liked them that much, but this album is fucking rad. I'd love to see them live. I'd love to see any good show really. I can't remember the last one I saw. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can tonight just be really good plz? K thx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2893660730051983702?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2893660730051983702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2893660730051983702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2893660730051983702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2893660730051983702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/fits-and-starts.html' title='Fits and Starts'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4844463302176559602</id><published>2008-09-19T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T09:31:28.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up</title><content type='html'>Growing up was always much harder for me then I think it was for a lot of people. The problem with me is that if there are too many options in front of me that sound appealing, I want to do everything. And since I can't do everything, I get depressed and end up choosing whichever seems easiest. This is a horrible trait of mine. When it became easier to make stupid decisions, to hurt people, to betray my own morals, than to simply walk away and be my own person, I of course chose what was easier. But I don't think anyone really understands. I'm just so afraid of everything. I'm afraid of being mundane. I'm afraid of making dramatic decisions. So instead, I do what's easiest. Instead, I make myself much more boring and stupid than I am, because it's easier. I struggle so much every day to figure out who I am, what I want to do, who I want to be, where I want to be. And I'm afraid that I'm too afraid and I'll just end up in Minnesota for the rest of my life because I could never walk away from anything. I could never be brave enough to venture out on my own and learn new things by myself, so here I sit and stay, like a good dog. I do what's expected of me, never what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at a crossroads and faced with a choice: Do I take a change and move to Toronto and start over? Do I finish at MCAD but attempt to move for the summer and intern somewhere bigger than myself? Do I work hard to actually achieve something or do I sit and wait and hope that something will choose me instead of me having to choose it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one ever accomplished their dreams by waiting for them to float by. If I want something I have to go out and grab it and hold on for dear life. I know that. So why can't I just do it? I am completely at a loss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Niki. Before I ruined everything. Before I gave up on myself and took everyone down with me. I miss my friends that loved me because I was me and not because of who I knew or where I went or what I did. They knew I had changed for the worse, but I couldn't see it. I feel like I have like 5 or 6 people in my life that love me because I'm me and for no other reason. But hindsight is 20/20. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I need to stop being afraid before I push everyone away. I need to embrace where I'm going and stop trying to be something I'm not and just be and enjoy what I enjoy and do what I do because it's what I want not because I'm trying to please someone or something. I need to follow my bliss. I need to be persistent. I need to be honest and be straight and true to myself and not let anyone push my around. Even if that makes people dislike me, at least I'll like me. Because right now Im not sure how much I really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4844463302176559602?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4844463302176559602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4844463302176559602' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4844463302176559602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4844463302176559602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/growing-up.html' title='Growing up'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4974686893317356905</id><published>2008-09-19T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T15:29:46.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion weekend</title><content type='html'>It's fashion weekend here in Minneapolis. What does that mean? Not a whole lot. In fact, it's usually just more of the same: The same small collective of artists/designers/art enthusiasts rubbing shoulders that rub said shoulders at damn near every event in the minneapolis area. Woo hoo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little excited about Sugar tonight, but I don't even know if I'll go for sure. And the only reason I'm excited is because Chris and Lottie are modeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight's Josh's birthday and Honeymoon too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it so hard to care about events anymore. I think I'm bitter. Maybe bored? Nothing really strikes me anymore. Night life is all the same: Get a drink, talk to X important person, dance, get another drink, talk to X important person, dance, repeat. I dunno. Maybe I just don't know how to have fun anymore? I feel like I don't even know what I like anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Fuck it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4974686893317356905?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4974686893317356905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4974686893317356905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4974686893317356905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4974686893317356905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/fashion-weekend.html' title='Fashion weekend'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-7661203308844112144</id><published>2008-09-16T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T10:08:30.611-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='canada'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='everything sucks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><title type='text'>So long, Toronto...</title><content type='html'>Well it would appear as though transferring is not an option. If I even get in to Reyerson, I would have to start over completely. I would possibly have enough transfer credits to knock off a year of school, but I would basically enter as a freshman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gawd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just going to be depressed for the rest of the week. &lt;br /&gt;Damn you Canada, why do you have to be so cruel!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-7661203308844112144?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/7661203308844112144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=7661203308844112144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7661203308844112144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/7661203308844112144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/so-long-toronto.html' title='So long, Toronto...'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2901476751645005137</id><published>2008-09-13T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T11:08:31.314-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><title type='text'>My Saturdays always suck.</title><content type='html'>It's pouring rain. I'm trying to decide whether or not I should go home tonight. I want to. But I also have a lot of work to do. But it also might be good to run away for a day or two and get my head on straight, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day that goes by that I do no school work I feel like I'm slacking. It's seriously taking over my life, but I love it. I LOVE school. Seriously. Is that weird? I think it's especially weird because I'm studying business, event planning, marketing and project management from the creative side and every time I go to class I'm completely absorbed and totally interested in everything they say. Oh my god...I'm becoming an adult...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake was telling me about some school in Toronto that apparently has a fashion business program. Like..HELLO PERFECT SCHOOL. Do I really wanna move that far away? Um. YES. Well...sort of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might try to get enrolled for next semester. I dunno though. Is that really a good idea? Do I really want to leave Minneapolis now, especially when I'm just starting to really love school? I think it might be a good opportunity to do something different though. I guess I have some research to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2901476751645005137?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2901476751645005137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2901476751645005137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2901476751645005137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2901476751645005137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-saturdays-always-suck.html' title='My Saturdays always suck.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-5929548481840418191</id><published>2008-09-12T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T16:06:59.814-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='how awesome I am'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hair Cuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Japan'/><title type='text'>Supa Kawaii Desu Ne?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.strapya-world.com/images/img10062695974.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'm a huge japan fan. Like super nerd. I just ordered some cell phone charms from Japan from this super cute site called &lt;a href="http://www.strapya-world.com/index.html" target="_blank"&gt;Strapya.&lt;/a&gt; It made me really miss being in Japan, especially since you can get area specific charms. Oh Asakusa, how I wish I could walk your ridiculous streets again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also cut my hair today. Like...big step for me. But I'm really diggin' it. I went to Moxie in St Paul and the girl that cut my hair was really cute and awesome. I was like a foot and a half taller than her with my shoes on so I just felt really silly when I got out of her chair. So it's been an eventful day I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't wait to get my cell phone charms and cry when I think about never being back in Tokyo. Someday, I need to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-5929548481840418191?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/5929548481840418191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=5929548481840418191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5929548481840418191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/5929548481840418191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/supa-kawaii-desu-ne.html' title='Supa Kawaii Desu Ne?'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4739221408957301343</id><published>2008-09-11T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T10:46:12.496-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Runway'/><title type='text'>More like project DUMBway....</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.bravotv.com/widgets/bin/gallery/cache/0cd3e09a47c2d4f5252a5eba200c3742/watermark/rate_509_jerell.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy. I finally FINALLY got to watch some of this season of Project Runway last night. Why do almost all of the designers this season SUCK big time? I mean...jeez. Between the dude that refers to himself as "Suede" in the third person and that bitch that can't take criticism and always argues with everyone, I'm just downright disappointed. I guess I really haven't seen that much of the show, but seriously. Disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still sick. I can barely breathe today, which makes walking up four flights of stairs in heels exceedingly difficult. OH HAI FATTY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad this week is almost over. I need to clean my house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4739221408957301343?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4739221408957301343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4739221408957301343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4739221408957301343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4739221408957301343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/more-like-project-dumbway.html' title='More like project DUMBway....'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-2304148868480374468</id><published>2008-09-09T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:51:40.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I haz cold?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.amcgltd.com/archives/havethedum.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My throat and ears and nose and head are throbbing and I feel disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;All I want is to lay in bed all day with the fish and eat soup.&lt;br /&gt;But instead I get 9 hours of school. &lt;br /&gt;Awsm.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my brain doesn't work right now. I'm trying to write objectives for our group project and I keep reiterating the same point.&lt;br /&gt;Ima get fired.&lt;br /&gt;Prolly not but still I hates it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also my morning is again off to a phenomenal start. Not only do I have this awesome cold, I can't use my effing shower. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I hate today. I hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I go to class and put my head down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-2304148868480374468?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/2304148868480374468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=2304148868480374468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2304148868480374468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/2304148868480374468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-haz-cold.html' title='I haz cold?'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061366162146949422.post-4792952328098694140</id><published>2008-09-08T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:29:07.740-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='how awesome I am'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Time to Grow up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v55/timetodancekid/?action=view&amp;current=Photo113.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v55/timetodancekid/Photo113.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a new school year with a new major and a new position and a new apartment and a new kitten and a new life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So why not a new blog?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up this morning to my landlord pounding on my door. Apparently, my maintenance man was supposed to call me yesterday to let me know that they were installing a new tub surround in my bathroom today? Guess what. He never called. Mind you, this pounding came at 7:30am. But I was pleased to ignore them and ultimately deny them access until I had gotten up and gotten ready for school and left the apartment. Flexing my renters rights biiiiiiiitch. I just hope they're nice to my kitten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now I'm at school, trying to decide what product that I want to write a 4 p's and 7 c's summary on that due in...7 hours. Fuck. I hate not having the internet at home. Tomorrow though. Hot damn. Also I'm clearly spending my time in the correct productive way...making a new blog to distract me from doing work. Alright.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a haircut. And to drink this Diet Coke with Lime that Benjamin made me crave for. Jerk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061366162146949422-4792952328098694140?l=featherfeets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/feeds/4792952328098694140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5061366162146949422&amp;postID=4792952328098694140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4792952328098694140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061366162146949422/posts/default/4792952328098694140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://featherfeets.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-to-grow-up.html' title='Time to Grow up.'/><author><name>Jme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00617871131849623098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lgiFubsjfW4/Sjrv_fdU-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/gP6CLtGRUqI/s1600-R/4712_506389131591_163000556_30216426_5310590_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
