<?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/opensearch/1.1/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' gd:etag='W/&quot;DUUHSXg7eCp7ImA9WhRXGUs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228</id><updated>2011-12-27T07:27:18.600+01:00</updated><category term='secondary education'/><category term='understand'/><category term='plans'/><category term='cuts'/><category term='rights'/><category term='meaningless'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='pro-ana'/><category term='Black Swan'/><category term='trains'/><category term='København'/><category term='buses'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='family'/><category term='spaces'/><category term='mother'/><category term='dysfunctional'/><category term='work'/><category term='past'/><category term='February'/><category term='difference'/><category term='Indian'/><category term='future'/><category term='Bramming'/><category term='racism'/><category term='type'/><category term='father'/><category term='seats'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='divorce'/><category term='example'/><category term='look'/><category term='bruises'/><category term='June'/><category term='Horizon'/><category term='grades'/><category term='school'/><category term='themes'/><category term='destructive'/><category term='correct'/><category term='angry'/><category term='March'/><category term='Cook'/><category term='movie'/><category term='losing'/><category term='contradictions'/><category term='hurts'/><category term='people'/><category term='forgetfulness'/><category term='middle child'/><category term='suicide'/><category term='spots'/><category term='Philosophical'/><category term='unhappy'/><category term='Education'/><category term='brutal'/><category term='weight'/><category term='writing style'/><category term='Caucasian'/><category term='2011'/><category term='Denmark'/><category term='customs officer'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='change'/><category term='military'/><category term='subjects'/><category term='BMI'/><category term='ship-masters'/><category term='spoil'/><category term='2012'/><category term='physical'/><category term='cheating'/><category term='personalizes'/><category term='lesbian'/><category term='psych major'/><category term='December'/><category term='internet'/><category term='sister'/><category term='comments'/><category term='farm'/><category term='chef'/><category term='current'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='personal'/><category term='thin'/><category term='Copenhagen'/><category term='fovika'/><category term='January'/><category term='tastes'/><category term='trigger'/><category term='psychological'/><category term='depressed'/><category term='Blogging'/><category term='fighting'/><category term='broadcast'/><category term='overweight'/><category term='country'/><category term='present'/><category term='siblings'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='ride'/><category term='career'/><category term='July'/><category term='emotional'/><category term='remember'/><title>Thoughts and Life</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog on what's going on in my life and what thoughts are on my mind...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default?redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUUHSXg6eCp7ImA9WhRXGUs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-2443444905786935797</id><published>2011-12-27T07:27:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T07:27:18.610+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-27T07:27:18.610+01:00</app:edited><title>Apartment thoughts</title><content type='html'>So... at some point of time I plan to move out of my mothers house and live on my own, like any other person my age. I'm actually behind in the race to be independent. I like the thought that all the money I get (minus rent) gets to be used on whatever I feel like. For example shoes (in reference to the next post I plan to make). But this post is about some of the thoughts I've got on how I'd decorate an apartment. Well, more like how it'd be set up.&lt;br /&gt;
First off I'd like to say that the first apartment I'd end up getting won't be very big... maybe around 30m^2 (square meters). Which is an okay size for ones first here in Denmark. Now... What I've been thinking is that I need lots of shelf space. So I was thinking of covering a wall with shelves. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N13M2UviGoc/TvlkCEq7nWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/wmsDddO1H6U/s1600/expedit-bordkombination__0094342_PE232228_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N13M2UviGoc/TvlkCEq7nWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/wmsDddO1H6U/s200/expedit-bordkombination__0094342_PE232228_S4.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;One of them could have a table in it, like this one (p.s all of them are from Ikea).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ig9QajzwJI8/TvlkDp8dULI/AAAAAAAAAEM/PmZ6sBqQWqI/s1600/expedit-reol__0092716_PE229439_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ig9QajzwJI8/TvlkDp8dULI/AAAAAAAAAEM/PmZ6sBqQWqI/s200/expedit-reol__0092716_PE229439_S4.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IE4VnGDIpY0/TvlkC2CyGkI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZGZMMJSYqbs/s1600/expedit-reol__0092710_PE229408_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IE4VnGDIpY0/TvlkC2CyGkI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZGZMMJSYqbs/s200/expedit-reol__0092710_PE229408_S4.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, you'd have one of these (and you can add "doors" to each square, if you wanted)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then you'd have these, but lay them down so that you can put things on top of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And last but not least is this cool computer table. It can fit up to a 17" computer. It closes so that you can e.g eat on it without having to move your computer. Smart, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NPQ2hEgFPbg/TvlkAylGWfI/AAAAAAAAADw/5zLDK-8VEyA/s1600/alve-bord-til-brbar-computer__0094160_PE231895_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NPQ2hEgFPbg/TvlkAylGWfI/AAAAAAAAADw/5zLDK-8VEyA/s200/alve-bord-til-brbar-computer__0094160_PE231895_S4.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kcy_p6iBOEE/TvlkBQ86_-I/AAAAAAAAAD0/TPdHc9PwWjM/s1600/alve-bord-til-brbar-computer__0094171_PE231898_S4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kcy_p6iBOEE/TvlkBQ86_-I/AAAAAAAAAD0/TPdHc9PwWjM/s200/alve-bord-til-brbar-computer__0094171_PE231898_S4.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-2443444905786935797?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/2443444905786935797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/apartment-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2443444905786935797?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2443444905786935797?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/apartment-thoughts.html' title='Apartment thoughts'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N13M2UviGoc/TvlkCEq7nWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/wmsDddO1H6U/s72-c/expedit-bordkombination__0094342_PE232228_S4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DU8DQ344fip7ImA9WhRQFUg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-4667298136635279737</id><published>2011-12-10T23:35:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T23:57:52.036+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-10T23:57:52.036+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brutal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bruises'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suicide'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sister'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><title>How fights can get brutal</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Comments: "mother"/"my mother"/"mom"/"that woman" - whatever YOU call your mother has nothing to do with me. If I refer to her as something (e.g mother) and not as something else (e.g my mother/mom), that is my business, not yours. And no, I do not call her mother to her face, she is called "mom". &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The day started off like normal. I'm told what to do and I do it. But then my mother leaves to see a movie and my sister "takes" the parenting position. First off, I won't mind that she does it, if she was good at it! Secondly, I'm older! Why does she think she can take that position, just because mother is out?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now SHE is telling ME what to do! SHE has NO right to tell me what to do. Mother told me what to do and I did as mother said. SHE can't ADD on to what mother told me to do!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mother told us not to be on the computer or watch tv until what we agreed upon was done (aka I was told to clean the kitchen). Anywho... Mother leaves, sister goes on computer (she is not done what was asked of her yet) and tells me I'm not done, so I'm not allowed to watch tv,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ask her: "What am I missing?". And she lists a long list of things, that I had done, just not up to HER standers. They are however up to my mothers. I tell her she has got to be kidding me! And then ignore everything she says (childish, I know... but it works the best). She gets angry! Starts yelling at me about something to do with yesterday... I didn't go out drinking with my friends, and that apparently ruined her plans. So she is angry...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She then tells me to go to my room. WTF? She tells me because her plans were ruined I have to stay in my room all day, so that she can have the house to herself. WTF? How is any of this MY problem? Of course, I say NO! And she gets even more angry. She then tries to take my key (to my door) and I shove her away. She now so angry that her face is red, HITS ME! Punches me. Repetitively. And I push her away, which does nothing because her anger has to come out, and it's coming out in punches on me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mother is still at the movies and I now have a shitload of bruises... and one scratch mark. About an hour before mother comes home, she calls her. And tells her I started it. That I hit her first...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh yay, did I remember to tell you that she hates the fact that I'm alive? And she wishes that I stayed with my father, so mother and her would have a nice life here alone. She wishes that I didn't have money, friends, things or a family... To say those things to a person, who you have no idea what's going on with. You have NO right to say such things! I've considered suicide in the past, and saying such things aren't fun to hear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I have no idea what to do... about my sister... or my relationship with my mother...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-4667298136635279737?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/4667298136635279737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/how-fights-can-get-brutal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/4667298136635279737?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/4667298136635279737?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/how-fights-can-get-brutal.html' title='How fights can get brutal'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0UBQXkzcCp7ImA9WhRQEkg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-5066704518630681167</id><published>2011-12-07T11:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T11:54:10.788+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-07T11:54:10.788+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secondary education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='themes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='December'/><title>Time to finish my secondary schooling</title><content type='html'>Had to get up a little earlier than I've been doing the last couple of days.. had to get up at 9... On the way to the school I bought my grandmothers Christmas gift. Oh Ya! Last year when I was supposed to do it, I made the wrong choice and cheated. Got caught and have to do it again this year. Not the worst in the world, if you go back 20 years, I would have had to drop out of school and do that year again. That would not have been fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this year I plan to do everything as I should with no cheating and with great planning. The theme I have chosen for the paper this year is Caligula (a Cesar in the roman empire, year 37-41). He is also known as the mad ruler, because he was not quite "there" the last couple of years in his reign. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, have to pick up my shoes (there are at the post office), and have to make a schedule for my paper. Good Luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-5066704518630681167?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/5066704518630681167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/time-to-finish-my-secondary-schooling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/5066704518630681167?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/5066704518630681167?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/time-to-finish-my-secondary-schooling.html' title='Time to finish my secondary schooling'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkINRnc4eip7ImA9WhRQEk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-7050857427569201715</id><published>2011-12-06T21:51:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T22:56:37.932+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-06T22:56:37.932+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caucasian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='farm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secondary education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dysfunctional'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='father'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customs officer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='divorce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='siblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='type'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='country'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chef'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Denmark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grades'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><title>My dysfunctional family</title><content type='html'>My family relations are really bad. Not just me being super unsocial, but because after my father got remarried every other child (we are 4 in all) stopped contact with him. I haven't because I like him and don't really mind his new wife. She's different... I'll try not be be racist, but we (my family) are all white, sorry Caucasian. And my fathers wife is Indian (Amercian-Indian, not India-Indian). I'm not holding that against her, but her family is so... Every stereotyping you think of when you think of Indians, her family hits them. I don't know how that happens, but hers did. Now.. we are not used to "non-Caucasian" family types. We are your average family. 1 mother, 1 father, 1 boy and 2,5 girls (1,5 is for us twins... we are the "youngest", even though I'm never treated like the youngest, that is 100% my sisters "duty"). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mom is a chef, my dad is a customs officer. My big sister is a chef, my big brother is in the military... See a pattern? haha... My dad is born on a farm and has two other siblings, as does my mother (he has 2 brothers, she has 2 sisters). They meet in a foreign country... She moved to his country shortly after and lived with his ex for about a month. Sounds like I'm lying, right? But you just can't make this shit up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They divorced about 8 years ago (I was 13.., no.. 12?). Oh my, did you guess my age?&amp;nbsp; haha. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anywho. After they divorced 4 of the 6 family members went to my mothers country of origin. Denmark. My big brother didn't come at the time ONLY because he was in 12th grade. And Denmark only goes to 9. You then go to a secondary school, if thats what you want to do. You can also do 10th, but you don't have to. And then there are trade schools and technical schools and such. I went and did both 10th and secondary school. Now moving on to a trade school. Anywho...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My big brother, big sister and twin sister DO NOT speak to my father. I have no idea why. I've heard the reasons, I don't believe the reasons... but that is not up for discussion. Or so I've been told.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My sister says she was hit by my dads wife. I was there, my dad was there, his wife was there. Nobody remembers her being hit. Only her. Now, I'm not saying it didn't happen, I'm saying I don't believe it was such a big thing, that she is making it out to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-7050857427569201715?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/7050857427569201715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-dysfunctional-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7050857427569201715?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7050857427569201715?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-dysfunctional-family.html' title='My dysfunctional family'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CU8HQX0-fip7ImA9WhRQEU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-2499378727929913859</id><published>2011-12-05T23:12:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T23:23:50.356+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-05T23:23:50.356+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unhappy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pro-ana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overweight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BMI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='losing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><title>Weight?</title><content type='html'>My weight has always been an issue for me. Like so many other people 
out there, I'm unhappy about the way I look and weigh. I'm not always 
unhappy about it. Sometimes I love the way I look. Sometimes I think I 
look hot, sexy, interesting, different, cool, neat, nice, beautiful, 
calm, clean... and so on. But every once in a while I do something or 
hear something and think, wow I'm gross.&lt;br /&gt;
Now... I know I'm not 
thin, never really have been, but I've also not considered myself fat. 
I'm overweight, but not fat... It's weird. My BMI tells me I'm 
overweight (actually it says I'm fucking fat...).&lt;br /&gt;
I follow other 
peoples blogs. Some of the ones I follow are about people losing weight.
 And some of those people are pro-ana. I'm clearly not, with my rolls of
 fat... but some of &lt;u&gt;them&lt;/u&gt; are. I've wondered what I would look 
like if I was thin. Not a happy thought process (because you always end 
up back to the present and I'm not thin...). I'm going to stop my 
constant complaining now...&lt;br /&gt;
I live at home and have never made 
supper for only me. I always make it for me and someone (my sister or 
mother). So what I make isn't always healthy. I don't want to start 
buying healthy stuff because then they will comment on it. I very much 
dislike it when they comment on something I change. Especially when I'm 
self conscious of it. What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-2499378727929913859?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/2499378727929913859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/weight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2499378727929913859?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2499378727929913859?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/weight.html' title='Weight?'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CUcCSHYyfip7ImA9WhRQEU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-6145696109338545682</id><published>2011-12-05T22:29:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T23:11:09.896+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-05T23:11:09.896+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='February'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2011'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ship-masters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secondary education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='July'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='June'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='March'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='January'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2012'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chef'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Horizon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='December'/><title>An education in the horizon</title><content type='html'>I'm starting an education as a cook come January. Yay? Anwho.. Here's the plan for the end of 2011 and all of 2012:&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Finish my STX (secondary education), which I'll be done as soon as I write this essay here in December.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Start cook education (9th January)&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Go ice skating with friends (2nd or 3rd week in January)&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Have birthday party (18th February)&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Apply for Ship-masters education (15th March)&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Finish first part of cooks education (June)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Acceptance (or not) to Ship-masters education (July)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Start or continue chefs education...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Have fun!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
Now doesn't that sound like a plan :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-6145696109338545682?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/6145696109338545682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/education-in-horizon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/6145696109338545682?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/6145696109338545682?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/12/education-in-horizon.html' title='An education in the horizon'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEUESXk4eCp7ImA9WhRRFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-2680645505692445371</id><published>2011-11-29T23:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T23:36:48.730+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-29T23:36:48.730+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psychological'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tastes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black Swan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='understand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psych major'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='subjects'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing style'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forgetfulness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='present'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='current'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='themes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personalizes'/><title>To blog or not to blog...</title><content type='html'>That should be the question... The biggest problem with blogging, is that I have no idea what to blog about. So I've decided not to care and write whatever I want with no subject, theme, writing style or other matter. The posts will just be me talking to... you? ...myself? ...the future me? ...the past/current me's that are in the present you's? Hmmm... to philosophical? I think so too... So this post will be about the movie Black Swan.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now... you haven't traveled back in time, I saw the movie a while ago and re-saw it today. When it first came out it didn't look like a good movie. Or not a movie that suited my tastes. But my sister and mother both went and saw it in theaters though. They both said it was weird and creepy (mostly the part where she pulls off her on fingernail). After their comments I decided to watch it. Still not a movie I would have seen, but not bad. It's more psychological than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For those who haven't seen it, it's about a girl who gets the role of the black/white swan in the ballet story "the black swan" -I think....- And she takes the role way too seriously and over personalizes it. She makes the story her life. Her life becomes the story.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It really is a good psychological story for any psych majors out there. The reason I've seen it twice is because my friend wanted to see it (and she can't stand "scary" movies), so we watched it together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's an interesting plot. I understood it. Not all will, but it's not hard to if you look deep enough.&amp;nbsp; ....crap... I can't remember the reason to why I started this post... damn...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-2680645505692445371?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/2680645505692445371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-blog-or-not-to-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2680645505692445371?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2680645505692445371?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-blog-or-not-to-blog.html' title='To blog or not to blog...'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Denmark</georss:featurename><georss:point>56.26392 9.501785</georss:point><georss:box>54.0066025 4.448074 58.5212375 14.555496</georss:box></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEAFSX0zfSp7ImA9WhRRFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-2973954491320569411</id><published>2011-11-26T02:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T23:45:18.385+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-29T23:45:18.385+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='København'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Copenhagen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bramming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meaningless'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spaces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='difference'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trains'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seats'/><title>Public Transport - buses vs trains</title><content type='html'>I've noticed there is a huge difference between the type of people you'd meet on a bus vs the type of people you'd meet on the train. Denmark has both... clearly or else this post would be meaningless. I travel to and from "work/school" and it takes about an hour. I get on the train first (about a 30 min ride) then take a bus (about 20 min). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nobody is rude or anything, but peoples personal spaces changes. In a bus people sit where there is a seat, whether there is somebody next to you or not. But on the train people don't. Unless it's the train from one side of the country to the other (aka from Bramming to København/Copenhagen). But the everyday train, the ones you take to work or school, people don't sit wherever there is a spot. They sit only if nobody is sitting next to them. It's supper funny to see people walking around looking for a spot they can sit. I can see many places they can sit, but they can't because they are looking for spots that aren't near people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Quick question to anybody who might read these posts / this blog:&lt;br /&gt;
Do you take the train/bus?&lt;br /&gt;
Do you want me to ramble about something specific?&lt;br /&gt;
Do you care what I talk about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-2973954491320569411?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/2973954491320569411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/11/public-transport-buses-vs-trains.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2973954491320569411?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/2973954491320569411?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/11/public-transport-buses-vs-trains.html' title='Public Transport - buses vs trains'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DE8GRXs8cSp7ImA9WhRRFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-7644797509694608174</id><published>2011-10-21T04:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T23:47:04.579+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-29T23:47:04.579+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='remember'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='type'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bruises'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotional'/><title>Emotional and Physical Bruises</title><content type='html'>Emotional bruises are like emotional scars, just with less effect. For example a physical scar lasts for life, but also fades over time. I'd be like if something really bad were to happen to you. You'd remember it for life, but the emotional effect it has on you will lessen over time. A physical bruise hurts when delivered and lasts about&amp;nbsp; a week, before it fades into nothingness. You might remember having the bruise later in life, but you might not. It's the same with a emotional bruise. When you get it, it hurts you. You think about it for about a week than you forget it, you might remember the event later on, but you might never remember it again.&lt;br /&gt;
Examples on emotional bruises:&lt;br /&gt;
Your boss calls you out and says you're not doing it right. You can't help but be hurt by what he said. About a week from then you don't remember why he called you out, just that he did.&lt;br /&gt;
Another example, you forgot your movie at your friends house and were planning on watching it tonight with your girlfriend, but now you can't. Do you seriously think you'd remember something like that in 5 years? No, you wouldn't (unless that incident ended your relationship...). It's something that happens to everybody and there is no shame in it. Just like getting a bruise on your leg because you ran into the table. Nobody remembers it, but you DID have a bruise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These bruises might not mean anything to you at the time you get them or mean something to you in the future, but remember that without that event happening, you would not be the person you are today. This sentence might sound out of the blue to you, but it's always on my mind. This is who people are made. How people with murdering parents don't become murderers. How a person from a bad neighbor hood can become the nicest, kindest, most loving person you've ever met. Things that might mean nothing to you might mean everything yo others. If you didn't hit that table that day, you might been hit by a bus... Not likely, but plausible. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a "everything happens for a reason" type of person. I'm more of a "you act the way you act because of something in your past" type of person. Now, there are different types that fall into my category. There are the type that say "you will become like your mother, because it's something in your past that will predict what you'll do in the future" and there are the type that say "everything in you past matters. what you thought one day at a specific time matters, because everything you do, makes you who you are.". I sort of fall in the second type. Pretty obvious with the way I wrote that out, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-7644797509694608174?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/7644797509694608174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/emotional-and-physical-bruises.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7644797509694608174?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7644797509694608174?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/emotional-and-physical-bruises.html' title='Emotional and Physical Bruises'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DE8ER3w-cSp7ImA9WhRRFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-7830697026908063311</id><published>2011-10-17T10:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T23:46:46.259+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-29T23:46:46.259+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sister'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='example'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contradictions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='correct'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chef'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='broadcast'/><title>Being told not to, then told to</title><content type='html'>Contradictions... My family is so good at them. The best way to explain it is through examples...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was 6 or 7 I told my mom I wanted to be a chef, just like her and my big sister. She looked at me with disgust and told me I wasn't allowed to be one, because the family already had two, we didn't need a third. At school in grade 9 we told to start figuring out what we want to be. I can home and told my mother this and she told me I was suited for desk work because I wasn't a very smiley person... That was a couple of years ago... She told be last month that the man she works with thinks I'd make a good chef (I was working there for about 4 years as a dishwasher) and she asked me why I don't pursue that as a career? I looked at her like she was out of her mind and told her, that she had told me I wasn't allowed to be that. She then looked at me like I was crazy and said she had never said such a thing... What does that say about me? That I heard wrong? That I remembered incorrectly? That I am stupid for remembering something like that when clearly she doesn't...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another example. My sister and I were watching tv and I commented on something, lets say it was about sharks. She will then discuss why what I said was wrong, I'll let her be and say I could be wrong, but I don't believe I am. We google it and what does it say? I'm right! -- About 2 weeks later we're watching and the same shark show is being broadcast. My sister then tells me a fact she learned on the internet about sharks.. the same fact I, 2 weeks ago, had told her. I say I knew that and that I had told her and she gets pissed and says that I'm lying... I have of course no way of proving I'm right and vice versa. Am I the only one in this family with a memory? Am I the only one that cares?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-7830697026908063311?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/7830697026908063311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/being-told-not-to-then-told-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7830697026908063311?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/7830697026908063311?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/being-told-not-to-then-told-to.html' title='Being told not to, then told to'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DE8MRXo8cCp7ImA9WhRRFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1093850908832833228.post-5908643726429782314</id><published>2011-10-17T10:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T23:48:04.478+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-29T23:48:04.478+01:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sister'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='middle child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destructive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fovika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lesbian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depressed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trigger'/><title>How thought can destroy your life</title><content type='html'>Lately I've had self destructive thoughts. E.g thoughts on cutting (ones self), drinking til I can't remember, killing myself, so on. Now don't get me wrong, I have actually done any of these things, they are just on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why or how they came to be is beyond me... I've never been depressed, or not really. I've had my lows like every other human being at my age (1991). Yet the thoughts came, if I really want to pin-point them out, they all come from the same trigger... my mother. She means the world to me, but like any other mother, she doesn't know where to stop. The first and only time where I seriously considered suicide was after my mother said some things that cut way deeper than I thought they could and I don't think my mom knew it would affect me. I don't even know if she knows that I have had those thoughts and that she was the trigger.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Feeling are something I have learned not to express, because if you do, they get used against you (not my parents, but my siblings are the trigger this time). I can't believe how different we 4 are. I'm not sure if you would consider me the middle child or not, but I feel like I am. My twin sister is the youngest. She has always been the baby of the family and has also grown up spoiled (like every other baby). My big sister is just that. The first to do everything, the oldest, the "wisest"... And then we have my big brother, who in all theory is the middle child (big sister, big brother, me, twin sister - the children in age, from oldest to youngest). I'm really not sure if you would call him the middle child because even if he was, he is the only boy. That is a title in and of itself. A middle child is someone others easily forget. Someone that has no "real" role in the family. And I believe myself to be that person. Someone that doesn't have to be there and everything still works out. The only thing I feel I am in the family is dad's little girl. We get along, because 1 I have the patience of an angel and 2 everybody else likes mom more. (I just noticed this became a short biography of my family...) Being the middle child has it ups and downs. My sister plays with me if nobody else is around - an up. I get alone time - an up. I learned patience - an up. I was bored - a down. When I was sad nobody noticed - a down...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mother, sister and I moved to another country without my dad, brother and big sister. My father is now remarried and my mother is a lesbian (she is dating a woman from the country we left). None of by siblings keep in contact with my father, I do thou. His wife is different from what we know... It's like if you're given chicken every day and then one day you're given pork, you'd be all, what the fuck is this? It's so different you deny it. You think, life was good with chicken, why the sudden change to pork? What is pork? Does pork taste like chicken? And so on...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1093850908832833228-5908643726429782314?l=thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/feeds/5908643726429782314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-thinking-can-destroy-your-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/5908643726429782314?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1093850908832833228/posts/default/5908643726429782314?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thoughts-and-life.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-thinking-can-destroy-your-life.html' title='How thought can destroy your life'/><author><name>fovika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147190399591086608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6f5vHeMpgc/TOHPhYh7OBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D9Qtns0YEMo/S220/16972_270176022591_545437591_3968702_1444109_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>