<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-5574815416484229080</id><updated>2024-09-04T08:12:58.448-04:00</updated><category term="u] utn"/><title type='text'>My so called &quot;life&quot;</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to my world, close the door on your way out</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>851</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-7041007403993681081</id><published>2014-04-18T22:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2014-04-18T22:35:07.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update?...Or Something...</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been rather depressed, and rightfully so. The most prominent thing is that I haven&#39;t been taking my meds. I think it&#39;s been a little over a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don&#39;t really even know what I&#39;m depressed about, but I guess that&#39;s what depression is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main reason I stopped taking them, which also so happens to be the reason I never wanted to start taking them, is because I don&#39;t like how they changed me. It may be weird, but I&#39;m so different on them, I&#39;m not sure if it shows, but I can feel it. I know Jasen said that he can tell I&#39;m less depressed when I&#39;m on them, and when one or both of us aren&#39;t on our meds, we fight/argue more. I really do hate the ladder. I mean, yea, I like being not randomly depressed, who wouldn&#39;t? But I like how I am when I&#39;m not on them. I&#39;m different. I feel different. I feel, more in control, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: When I was on them, at work when I got really frustrated/irritated/stressed/whatever you wanna call it, I would cry. I mean, that was just a normal thing regardless. But once I got off them I was able to handle my emotions better. I was in a situation that made me feel that way at work, what  happened was that  I was trying to get fries for an order so I could run it, and I guess I was in the way of the printer, and chef just pushed me out of the way to get the fucking ticket. My automatic instinct was to throw the tongs (that we use to get fries) in the window (where they belong if I may add) and just walked away. I went through the dining room, down the stairs, and to dry storage, then came back. I got an apology of &quot;sorry I pushed you, you were being to slow&quot; or something along those lines. I said it&#39;s okay, then promptly continued my job. Now, here&#39;s what I believe would have happened if I was on my meds. I would have gotten irritated or what ever and just let it got, but it would build inside me, and more insignificant things would add to it, and eventually I would break and loose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like I&#39;m more in control without them. I&#39;m louder, I focus more, and over all, I do my job better. I&#39;ve expod/food ran at francos and taste for a few years with out meds, and I did it well. I was a pretty damn  good at it, not only in my opinion, but from what I&#39;ve been told. I was in control. I called out what I needed, loudly, made sure I got a response. I&#39;d semi memorize all the tickets so when asked something I knew it. I called for what I was missing, and asked for etas. I owned it. I wouldn&#39;t think twice about telling a server to back the fuck off. I&#39;m not sure if it was because I was new to the environment and system, I mean, in the beginning it was, but it shouldn&#39;t have taken me so long to get use to. I&#39;m not sure if it was how I was being treated and talked to by chef, but I was told that I did a kick ass job for what he puts me through and other stuff along those lines. He has been better, and maybe that&#39;s why I&#39;ve been doing better. I&#39;m correcting him, a lot. And I&#39;m showing him that I really know what I&#39;m doing and I can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it&#39;s weird that I think it&#39;s because of my anti-depressants since there are a lot of other factors. But, I don&#39;t know. I just feel, different, more powerful maybe. Another reason, and a main one, that makes me feel like I kick ass at my job is because I work better under stress, not really stress, in a bind maybe. I&#39;m not really sure what to call it. But I feel like when I&#39;m on my meds and put in those situations I go straight into a panic and freak out and fuck up and then can&#39;t handle the reactions and criticism I get. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve considered talking to my doctor about changing my meds, but I told her to put me on prozac since I knew it worked. I mean, it would be weird to tell her to change it, but I mean, I was on them when I started, then got off them and noticed the change, but I guess I didn&#39;t really piece it together until I did it a second time. I really want to go to my therapist, for some reason. I NEVER wanted to go to one, hell, it took me YEARS to finally be able to confront a doctor about my depression and admit I needed meds. But I only did that because Jasen showed me I needed them by giving me his old script. But I feel like a therapist will be able to help me more, I love my doctor, she&#39;s pretty cool (and that means something since I have a hatred for doctors), but the fact that she said that she wants me to go to a therapist is because she wants to make sure that she has me on the right meds makes me want to see one now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a doctor appointment a few weeks ago, but I over slept and didn&#39;t go. I had a therapist appointment last week, but we needed my pay check for food and stuff, and I wasn&#39;t sure about how much the co pay would be and how much my check would be, so, luckily, I canceled  it. I say luckily because, surprise, surprise, paychecks weren&#39;t there on thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more to say, but I need to get a shower and get ready for work. I probably won&#39;t end up posting about it when I get home since I&#39;ll probably be dead. I&#39;ve been awake for 25 or so hours so far, and I work from 3:30 until probably close. So I&#39;m coming home and passing the fuck out. Plus I want to try to get there like 20mins early so I can fight with them to give me my tips from last night. If they say no I&#39;m going to throw a bitch fit. I&#39;m going to be like &quot;I need to go by tobacco and shit because I don&#39;t have any fucking cigarettes, and I NEED to get food because if I have to eat noodles one more fucking night I&#39;m going to kill myself, I seriously haven&#39;t eaten anything i two days because I&#39;m so fucking sick of them, so either you give me my money now, or you cut me when the game starts because every thing is going to be closed by the time I leave if you keep me until after the fucking game.&quot; Except probably with less swearing, depending on who it is. And if they have some smart ass comment like &quot;well order and eat food now, then pay us when you get your tips&quot; and/or &quot;sunoco is 24hrs, get cigarettes there&quot; Imma flip. Like, I have a boyfriend that needs to eat too, and changes are I&#39;ll forget to pay back the server, and what if I order from someone that gets cut before me?&quot; and &quot;I&#39;m not spending $15 on two fucking packs of cigarettes that&#39;ll last a day, when I can spend $21 on a big bag of tobacco and 2 boxes of tubes and have it last me two weeks.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, this is way longer than I wanted it to be. And it probably wouldn&#39;t have been if I was able to get a shower when I wanted to. At 1:30.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7041007403993681081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/updateor-something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7041007403993681081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7041007403993681081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/updateor-something.html' title='Update?...Or Something...'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-6085870360980378181</id><published>2014-04-03T07:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2014-04-03T08:48:48.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>it said 100 random questions, but there were only 99 and two were repeated...soooo 97 random questions I guess...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&quot;isn&#39;t enough anymore...I feel like I&#39;m only halfway there...&quot;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, What can you touch? &lt;/b&gt;The wall&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Before you started this survey, what were you doing? &lt;/b&gt;Watching &lt;i&gt;The Outsiders&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Without looking, guess what time it is. &lt;/b&gt;7:33 am, that was the time last time I looked, haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? &lt;/b&gt;7:38 am&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? &lt;/b&gt;The TV&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When did you last step outside? What were you doing? &lt;/b&gt;When I was leaving work. Going home.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Did you dream last night? &lt;/b&gt;I didn&#39;t even sleep...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you remember your dreams? &lt;/b&gt;Sometimes, they are always weird as shit.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When did you last laugh? &lt;/b&gt;Probably sometime during work.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you remember why / at what? &lt;/b&gt;Someone said something funny, haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is on the walls of the room you are in? &lt;/b&gt;A bunch of posters and pictures of bands and stuff, and a pound reese wrapper, and the Eleven Satanic Rules of The Earth.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seen anything weird lately? &lt;/b&gt;Everything I say is weird...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you think of this quiz? &lt;/b&gt;Meh, it&#39;s not as fun as I thought it would be, but it&#39;s something to do to keep me awake I guess&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the last film you saw? &lt;/b&gt;Well, I&#39;m watching/listening to &lt;i&gt;The Outsiders &lt;/i&gt;now...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? &lt;/b&gt;Portland Oregon.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? &lt;/b&gt;Tickets to every concert Jasen and I wanted to go to, and Monster, like, the company xD haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell me something about you that most people don&#39;t know. &lt;/b&gt;I use to self harm...a lot. And use to be highly suicidal...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? &lt;/b&gt;ahhh, there is so many things that NEED changed, I don&#39;t know what to pick. I might either go with there being NO discrimination/bias when it comes to appearance/style like piercings, tattoos, hair style and color, make-up, ect. or making ALL drug legal, not just weed, but coke, heroin, molly, acid ect, ect, that way there would be less drug related deaths (no laced stuff, fake stuff, deadly chemicials mixed in, clean needles, new pipes, ect ect.) and jails wouldn&#39;t be filled with drug dealers and users and real criminals, like murders and rapist would be in jail.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you like you to dance? &lt;/b&gt;I like moshing and doing walls of death. haha.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Would you ever consider living abroad? &lt;/b&gt;no&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Does your name make any interesting anagrams? &lt;/b&gt;ill ho xD haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who made the last incoming call on your phone? &lt;/b&gt;Me, haha.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? &lt;/b&gt;Some questionnaire thingys for my Dr.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Last time you swam in a pool? &lt;/b&gt;Fuck if I remember, haha, like the summer before last I thing, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Type of music you like most? &lt;/b&gt;Nu metal&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Type of music you dislike most? &lt;/b&gt;Gangsta rap&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you listening to music right now? &lt;/b&gt;nopers&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What color is your bedroom carpet? &lt;/b&gt;a weird tanish brownish color. haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could change something about your home, without worry about expense or mess, what would you do? &lt;/b&gt;That it didn&#39;t seem so dirty, even when it&#39;s clean.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was the last thing you bought? &lt;/b&gt;Slushies xD&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever ridden on a motorbike? &lt;/b&gt;If by motorbike you mean motorcycle, then yes...as long as dirt bikes count xD&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? &lt;/b&gt;Despite my fear of heights...yes, I&#39;d love to!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have a garden? &lt;/b&gt;nope, I don&#39;t even have a yard, lolz. I like in a duplex/apartment building on a main road in nortside, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you really know all the words to your national anthem? &lt;/b&gt;probably not.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? &lt;/b&gt;If I wake up to an alarm normally &#39;I wanna go back to sleep&#39;, haha. If I sleep in, normally &#39;fuck I can&#39;t believe it&#39;s ____o&#39;clock!&#39;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be? &lt;/b&gt;Either Nikki Sixx, Ronnie Radke, or Marilyn Manson&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who sent the last text message you received? &lt;/b&gt;My mommy! :)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? &lt;/b&gt;I actually practically did that at the army navy store buying docs for me and jasen xD&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What time is bed time? &lt;/b&gt;whenever I feel like going to sleep, I&#39;m an adult BITCH!!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? &lt;/b&gt;bahahahahahahahahaha.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How many tattoos do you have? &lt;/b&gt;14, I think I have more now, I don&#39;t feel like counting&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you don&#39;t have any, have you ever thought of getting one? &lt;/b&gt;I&#39;m getting more xDDD&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What did you do for your last birthday? &lt;/b&gt;idr, hung out with jasen. I went to go see the 4th of july fireworks and that&#39;s when me and my family and stuff celebrated my birthday&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you carry a donor card? &lt;/b&gt;nope&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who was the last person you ate dinner with? &lt;/b&gt;I guess jasen, haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is the glass half empty or half full? &lt;/b&gt;neither, it&#39;s just half way&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What&#39;s the farthest-away place you&#39;ve been? &lt;/b&gt;I&#39;ve been to Canada and Mexico, I&#39;m not sure which is farther...haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;When&#39;s the last time you ate a homegrown tomato? &lt;/b&gt;hmmm, it&#39;s been a while, probably last summer&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever won a trophy? &lt;/b&gt;yupp, for chess and a box car race or some shit, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a good cook? &lt;/b&gt;idk, I mean, I can cook, and it&#39;s not bad, but I need a recipe unless it&#39;s something simple, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you know how to pump your own gas? &lt;/b&gt;yes, even though I&#39;ve only done it, like, once, haha&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could meet any one person (from history or currently alive), who would it be? &lt;/b&gt;gah, alive, Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee, Ronnie Radke, or Marilyn Manson. Dead, The Rev, Erick Harris or Dylan Klebold.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school? &lt;/b&gt;uggg, for 8 years in grade school, and my high school had a super strict business attire dress code.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you touch-type? &lt;/b&gt;assuming that means like texting on a touch screen phone...not often since I have a tangle keyboard, or qwerty keyboard, w/e you wanna call it.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What&#39;s under your bed? &lt;/b&gt;nothing, haha, we don&#39;t have a bed frame, just a mattress on a box spring/&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you believe in love at first sight? &lt;/b&gt;Yes, but only because it happened to me with Jasen :)&lt;3 li=&quot;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Think fast, what do you like right now? &lt;/b&gt;Jasen :)&lt;3 li=&quot;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where were you on Valentine&#39;s day? &lt;/b&gt;At home with the love of my life :)&lt;4 li=&quot;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What time do you get up? &lt;/b&gt;Depends if I work and what time I need to be there...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was the name of your first pet? &lt;/b&gt;Violet, if you count a fish as a real pet, but Whitesox was my first &#39;real&#39; pet, she was a kitty xD&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who is the second to last person to call you? &lt;/b&gt;no idea, no one ever calls me, haha, probably my dr office though, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is there anything going on this weekend? &lt;/b&gt;work&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How are you feeling right now? &lt;/b&gt;like complete and utter shit.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you think about the most? &lt;/b&gt;hmmm, it&#39;s a tie between Jasen and money/finical shit. x___x&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What time do you get up in the morning? &lt;/b&gt;depends if I work and what time&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you had A Big Win in the Lottery, how long would you wait to tell people? &lt;/b&gt;I wouldn&#39;t tell people...actually, I might post something on fb, but it would just be saying I won, I sure as hell wouldn&#39;t say how much I won!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who would you tell first? &lt;/b&gt;Jasen, because he would be with me when I found out...I&#39;d probably tell my parents, haha...and anyone I owed money to so I could pay them back.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the last movie that you saw at the cinema? &lt;/b&gt;shit, I can&#39;t remember&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you sing in the shower? &lt;/b&gt;only if music is playing&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? &lt;/b&gt;this was already asked...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you do most when you are bored? &lt;/b&gt;facebook&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you do for a living? &lt;/b&gt;work at a dead end job that pays shit because i get shitty hours&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you love your job? &lt;/b&gt;some aspects&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What did you want to be when you grew up? &lt;/b&gt;sooo many different things, a race car driver, an ambulance driver, a fire truck driver, a cop car driver (not a cop, or firefighter or parametic) a sign person, a vet, a roller coaster engineer, the list goes on and on.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could have any job, what would you want to do/be? &lt;/b&gt;a music engineer/music producer.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which came first the chicken or the egg? &lt;/b&gt;well, chicken is first in the dictionary...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How many keys on your key ring? &lt;/b&gt;6 keys for houses and shit, and 3 for like, master locks and stuff like that&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where would you retire to? &lt;/b&gt;haven&#39;t got that far yet...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What kind of car do you drive? &lt;/b&gt;my feet, lolz&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are your best physical features? &lt;/b&gt;my eyes&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are your best characteristics? &lt;/b&gt;no idea, i guess my sense of humor or open/kind heart&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go? &lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;no idea, I&#39;d love to visit LA...the sunset strip and hollywood stars&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What kind of books do you like to read? &lt;/b&gt;ones about musicians&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where would you want to retire to? &lt;/b&gt;another repeated question...so far this is only 98 questions...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your favorite time of the day? &lt;/b&gt;night time&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where did you grow up? &lt;/b&gt;pittsburgh, brookline to be exact&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How far away from your birthplace do you live now? &lt;/b&gt;like a 20 min drive&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are you reading now? &lt;/b&gt;nothing really, I&#39;ve been reading &lt;i&gt;The Dirt, &lt;/i&gt;Motley Crue&#39;s autobiography on and off for the past few years, haha&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a morning person or a night owl? &lt;/b&gt;night owl!!!!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can you touch your nose with your tongue? &lt;/b&gt;yessir&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows? &lt;/b&gt;mmhm&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have pets? &lt;/b&gt;kinda, I have a kitty, but he hates me, haha. he&#39;s also at my parents house because I can&#39;t have pets in my apartment, jasen doesn&#39;t like animals, and we are too poor to afford to take care of one.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How many rings before you answer the phone? &lt;/b&gt;whenever I hear it I answer it, unless I d on&#39;t want to talk to the person&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your best childhood memory? &lt;/b&gt;idk, haha. probably all the times my cousins would all come to pgh and we&#39;d hag out at my grandmas :)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are some of the different jobs that you have had in your life? &lt;/b&gt;I&#39;ve done EVERYTHING in restaurants except be a server, bartender, and manager...technically I wasn&#39;t a line cook, but I&#39;ve done salads/desserts...and I&#39;ve done a little bit of fryer stuff&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Any new and exciting things that you would like to share? &lt;/b&gt;ummm, i have to be at work at 930, so I have to leave at 920 at the ABSOLUTE latest and its 847 now and I have yet to shower and get ready what so ever, haha...oooops&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is most important in life? &lt;/b&gt;Jasen :)&lt;3 li=&quot;&quot;&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What Inspires You? &lt;/b&gt;Music&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/4&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6085870360980378181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/100-random-questions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6085870360980378181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6085870360980378181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/100-random-questions.html' title='it said 100 random questions, but there were only 99 and two were repeated...soooo 97 random questions I guess...'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-1237198175271867987</id><published>2014-04-03T04:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2014-04-03T04:59:23.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
there&#39;s no point going to sleep&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
works gonna be fun tomorrow :/&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
gotta be at work at 9:30&lt;br /&gt;
my alarms are set to start at 6:30&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
fucking pointless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t even get home till 1:15ish&lt;br /&gt;
bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They shouldn&#39;t have had me stay till the end of the game.&lt;br /&gt;
And they should have fucking cut me way before the 6th extra inning and a half hour before the kitchen closed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m so fucking pissed.&lt;br /&gt;
At the gm, for saying I was staying till the end of the game.&lt;br /&gt;
For the Pirates for getting three fucking outs when the bases were loaded.&lt;br /&gt;
For the closing manager for keeping me so fucking long.&lt;br /&gt;
For me being out of prozac and ativan.&lt;br /&gt;
For the fact I&#39;m depressed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;For the fact every little thing I fucking annoying me.&lt;br /&gt;
For the fact I need to be at work from 9:30 am till god knows when, seeing as how this past game was fucking 20 years long.&lt;br /&gt;
For the fact I&#39;m afraid to goto sleep because I&#39;m scared I wont wake up to my alarms.&lt;br /&gt;
Because all I want to fucking do is cry right now.&lt;br /&gt;
Since I know I&#39;m gonna be tired as fuck, annoyed as fuck, and gonna have to deal with the ass hole head chef tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
Just fucking everything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just hate everything.&lt;br /&gt;
I just want to scream.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m on the verge of bawling my eyes out.&lt;br /&gt;
I just want to quit.&lt;br /&gt;
and give up.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m just so...everything right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t fucking take it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m gonna try to get out of having to stay till after the game tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Normally I wouldn&#39;t care as much, but I&#39;ll already be awake for over 24hr before I even have to leave for work.&lt;br /&gt;
The game will start at 27 hours.&lt;br /&gt;
And we most likely wont even be busy enough for it to be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
If I leave at my scheduled time 32.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then I&#39;ll come home and either not be able to sleep or pass the fuck out until I need to wake up for work on friday or wake up at like 3am and not be able to go back to sleep and then be all miserable again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I fucking hate when all I do us work then sleep then work then sleep. I need free time. I can&#39;t stand doing that kinda shit. That&#39;s the main reason I&#39;m happy I only have one job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But next week I don&#39;t have any fucking shifts.&lt;br /&gt;
And I won&#39;t fucking have any till the thursday after next.&lt;br /&gt;
I hate how they fucking schedule to me.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s like I&#39;m no longer a host during pirate season.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m only a food runner.&lt;br /&gt;
If there isn&#39;t a game, they don&#39;t need me, so I don&#39;t exist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t explain how fucking used they make me feel.&lt;br /&gt;
I know I make good money during pirate season, but only when there are games.&lt;br /&gt;
I swear, if and when I find a new job, even if it&#39;s part time, I&#39;m quitting fucking BZ in a heart beat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love the people there, for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;
I adore the fucking enviorment.&lt;br /&gt;
But, I can&#39;t stand the way the head chef treats me.&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t stand the way I&#39;m scheduled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I seriously can&#39;t keep feeling so degraded and worthless and used by my job and the fucking people there.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s not okay.&lt;br /&gt;
It tears me apart mentally and emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t stand it.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s not healthy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ugggg, something needs to change before I loose it.&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1237198175271867987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1237198175271867987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1237198175271867987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/04/my-life.html' title='my life...'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-2647308063352453646</id><published>2014-03-29T22:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2014-03-29T22:28:30.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So you are pissed off and angry, and I don&#39;t know why.&lt;br /&gt;
You were fine till I said something about you taking my phone off the charger litterally right after I put it on the charger and said to be careful with it (since it unplugs super easily) and you acknowledged that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I&#39;m clearly on my laptop typing, so you turn off the lights.&lt;br /&gt;
You put on music, I ask you what&#39;s wrong and if you are okay a few times.&lt;br /&gt;
Then get pissed off and say &quot;okay, ignore me then, that always works.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I waited till the music faded away and asked again, I will admit I probably had an attitude since I &amp;nbsp;was pretty pissed off that you ignored me a few times, I even told you that I was trying to talk to you before and you just flipped out on me telling me that I didn&#39;t. So I guess since you either didn&#39;t hear me, or decided to ignore me that I made no effort.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;And of course you got more pissed off and turned the music up, oh yea, and you skipped a song I really like, and I know you did it on purpose, either that or you just did what you do so often and forgot that I was here, or exist, or have feelings and opinions. That&#39;s why when you ask me stuff and I say IDK you have no right to get pissed off. You are always doing things, even thought they are little, they seriously add up, that yomake me feel like don&#39;t care or think about me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
uggg, and I was just going to go in the other room and do my own thnig, but I know you would get all pissy and somehow make it my fault, and then I would say something and you&#39;d say something along the lines of how I&#39;m trying to make it about me or some bull shit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m sick of this shit, like, I can&#39;t do anything right. And I always get everything turned against me, Always. You yell at me when I try to help you, you yell at me when I don&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perfect example, last week. You were in the kitchen sitting alone and I asked what was wrong when I went in there and you said nothing. So I assumed that you didn&#39;t want to talk and wanted to be left alone. But no, of course, I was wrong. You wanted me to sit there and badger you to get you to talk. But when I do that, I get yelled at.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can never ever fucking win with you. I&#39;m akways doing something wrong and it&#39;s always my fault. You always &amp;nbsp;twist my words and put words in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So much of me wants to quit, give up on you, leave. I&#39;ve thought about leaving way too many times, but I have no where to go, and no one to take me anywhere. I litterally lost all of my friends. so yea, thanks for that. I mean, it&#39;s not like it&#39;s your fault,but I would still have them if it wasn&#39;t for you. And I don&#39;t hold that against you, I love you. And they pretty much forced me to choose between them or you, and I followed my heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Basically, no matter how much I want to quit, give up, or leave, I won&#39;t. I love you too much, and I put so much into you and being with you it would be pointless and stupid to leave you. Plus, we need eachother. It&#39;s really in both of our best interest for me to stay. I know that, and you know that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I in no way feel &#39;obligated&#39; to stay with you, I want to make that clear. It&#39;s my choice to stay with you. We are so perfect together, despite all the shit we put eachother through. And I know it&#39;ll all go back to normal soon. Once I start working it&#39;ll help, we will both have some time &amp;nbsp;away from eachother, which I know we both need, no matter what you say,it&#39;s just nattural. And with me working, we&#39;ll have more money. We can finially get you back on you meds, which is a huge factor to all of this. We always get bad when one of us isn&#39;t on our meds. And it actually pisses me off that when we had the money, I suggested to get your meds and you said no.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some times you don&#39;t think, and neither do I. But you &#39;live in the moment&#39; and &#39;live for now&#39; way too much, you need to think about your actons and their consequences. You need to plan for the next day or week, not just worry about today. And I need to start voicing my opinion more.The reason I don&#39;t is because I want you to learn from your mistakes, and I feel like every time I do voice my opinion I get shit for it, and you get all pissed off so I just say w/e and we do it your way. One day you&#39;ll &amp;nbsp;learn, and I&#39;m here to help and teach you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s one of the reasons why you need me. You don&#39;t even know it, but it&#39;s true. And, I mean, I need you to teach me too, but I feel like I teach you how to be an adult, and you teach me more &#39;common&#39; sense things that you can pretty much only learn from experience.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Idk, I&#39;m not tired of writing, I want to write more. But I just don&#39;t wanna keep going on about this becuase it&#39;s pointless. I mean, I&#39;m probably not gonna read it to you anyways, it&#39;ll just start a fight. So yea. And it&#39;s annoying having to type like this, so I&#39;m not re-reading it, or going back to fix any mistakes becaue it&#39;s too much of a fucking hassle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think I&#39;m just gonna collect my shit, listen to my music, if I can hear it over yours that is, and write, or play games or something. or maybe watch you tube videos, something I haven&#39;t done in, probably a little over a year, so ummm, yea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I&#39;ll write a new story, add to one of my old ones, or write something to you. I don&#39;t know yet...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2647308063352453646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/so-you-are-pissed-off-and-angry-and-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2647308063352453646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2647308063352453646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/so-you-are-pissed-off-and-angry-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-9071584988891821374</id><published>2014-03-22T01:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2014-03-22T01:27:13.045-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I relapsed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, it was kind of to make a point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and was extremely &#39;in the moment&#39;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just wanted to show you how much it hurts when the person you love hurts them self.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9071584988891821374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/i-relapsed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/9071584988891821374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/9071584988891821374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/i-relapsed.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-6104220252895522548</id><published>2014-03-20T18:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2014-03-20T18:35:15.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Its been a while.,,</title><content type='html'>I haven&#39;t posted anything anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;
So I&#39;m going to start doing that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve been having the urge to write, so I&#39;m changing my &#39;Bri The Table&quot; blog to on that is just filled with my writing. I&#39;ll still have my &#39;moooooosick&#39; one, and I&#39;ll still have this one, which I&#39;ll try to post on weekly, despite the fact no one probably reads this, haha. And I&#39;m not really sure what I&#39;ll be doing with the other one I have.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was thinking about just posting my stories on live journal, since it gives you prompts, but I figured it would be eaiser, and make more sense, to keep them all on here. I&#39;ll probably use prompts from live journal for some of my stories as well as asking people on facebook and just writing what ever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there is a little update on what I&#39;m doing.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6104220252895522548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/its-been-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6104220252895522548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6104220252895522548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2014/03/its-been-while.html' title='Its been a while.,,'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-7041146700613276284</id><published>2013-05-17T14:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-17T14:06:21.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'>neglect</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;havent posted in a while&lt;br&gt;
a long while&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;have nothing to talk about i guess&lt;br&gt;
but i guess i just wanted to tell you i havent falling off the face of the earth&lt;br&gt;
and i hate people&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;soooo, heres some random updates&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;i quit my job at taste because the head chef threw away my shoes&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;a i got a new job as a host at red beards&lt;br&gt;
i fucking hate it&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;i still am at francos&lt;br&gt;
i fucking hate it&lt;br&gt;
i was bitching about only having 1 shift this week&lt;br&gt;
next week i dont have any&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;im with jasen still&lt;br&gt;
hes the love of my life&lt;br&gt;
and i picked out my engagement/wedding ring a few weeks ago&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;i have an obsession woth derpy cat&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;i was going to see falling in reverse and hollywood undead yesterday&lt;br&gt;
they canceled their tour&lt;br&gt;
evidentially it takes the rest of may to have a baby&lt;br&gt;
i admire ronnie for doing it&lt;br&gt;
but you dont need that much time off&lt;br&gt;
and they are all loosing a shit ton of money&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;im going to see bullet for my valentine tonight&lt;br&gt;
aim geeked, ive wanted to see them live for years&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;i hate people&lt;br&gt;
they are stupid lieing sacks of retarded shit&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;idk what else to say&lt;br&gt;
im tired of typing...&lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7041146700613276284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2013/05/neglect.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7041146700613276284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7041146700613276284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2013/05/neglect.html' title='neglect'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-8061735901309997576</id><published>2012-12-03T19:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-03T19:44:10.847-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;first off, id like to start off by saying that i think its cute when people that i went to high school with are in relationships with other people from high school at least a year after graduating.&lt;br&gt;
especially if they get together, or back together, some time after graduation.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;secondly, i have weird dreams. whats weirder is that ive been remembering them alot.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and for some reason last night i randomly feel into this 3 hour slump of depression. then i slept it off.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and lastly, today was awesome as shit.&lt;br&gt;
it consisted of me and carl being gay together ans syncing our pics and fb statuses while jasen shopped. lolz&lt;br&gt;
still not the same like going to the mall wif maranda, no where close....well maybe a little, but just a spencers....but doesnt every one looke at the books and sex toys and make fun of them?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;anddddd now we are all being anti social, blasting music, and trying to scare the people around us.&lt;br&gt;
and i think the lady next to me and behind carl is praying out loud right now....win&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;btw, playing the penis game at the mall wont get you kicked out....weird...especially since it was ross park mall...maybe we wernt loud enough&lt;br&gt;
better luck next time &lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8061735901309997576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/12/first-off-id-like-to-start-off-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8061735901309997576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8061735901309997576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/12/first-off-id-like-to-start-off-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-3210239985439535388</id><published>2012-10-23T05:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-23T05:38:56.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuck.&lt;br /&gt;
i looked at my cover page and started fangirling.&lt;br /&gt;
being a fan girl is hard :/&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
like seriously,&lt;br /&gt;
you&#39;ll never understand what i go through.&lt;br /&gt;
being really self conscious doesn&#39;t help either.&lt;br /&gt;
because when i pass a guy in a band i like i can&#39;t be like &quot;oh hai, can i take a picture with you?&quot; or &quot;your really awesome&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
no,&lt;br /&gt;
i just get a love struck feeling and look in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;
and awkwardly stare at them&lt;br /&gt;
as i die of overwhelming happiness on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but on the plus side,&lt;br /&gt;
im not a crazy fan girl that does something stupid&lt;br /&gt;
like&lt;br /&gt;
crowd surf to get past the barriers and security gaurds&lt;br /&gt;
and then jump on stage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m glad i have self control&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
this was long and pointless.&lt;br /&gt;
but i killed some time so i would be able to get some sleep and stop fangirling.&lt;br /&gt;
haha.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3210239985439535388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/fuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3210239985439535388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3210239985439535388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/fuck.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-5702285651448088895</id><published>2012-10-23T05:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-23T05:07:08.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1. i just realized that my post below this one is fucked up for some reason&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and it pisses me off, because it just like ruined the whole thing and now im mad&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but anyways&lt;br /&gt;
i made a sammich&lt;br /&gt;
it was the most amazing thing in the world&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it consisted of&lt;br /&gt;
-hummus&lt;br /&gt;
-bbq sauce&lt;br /&gt;
-normal mustard&lt;br /&gt;
-dijion mustard&lt;br /&gt;
-mayo&lt;br /&gt;
-turkey&lt;br /&gt;
-salmi&lt;br /&gt;
-american chesse&lt;br /&gt;
-shredded cheddar cheese&lt;br /&gt;
-cheese diritos&lt;br /&gt;
-fresh tomatoe&lt;br /&gt;
-lettuces&lt;br /&gt;
and i think thats it&lt;br /&gt;
it was yummmmmrificial :D&lt;br /&gt;
hehe&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and i really wish that there bacon on it&lt;br /&gt;
and that perpochnii [or w/e the other name for banana peppers is] and feta spread on it :3&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but yea&lt;br /&gt;
im a good woman&lt;br /&gt;
and really fucking proud of this sammich&lt;br /&gt;
for really no reason&lt;br /&gt;
like&lt;br /&gt;
im really fucking excited...about...a fucking sandwich. &lt;br /&gt;
its kinda actually depressing&lt;br /&gt;
haha&lt;br /&gt;
but yea&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i need a man to make awesome sammiches for&lt;br /&gt;
except i really dont&lt;br /&gt;
haha&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
any who&lt;br /&gt;
i was at a park today&lt;br /&gt;
with people&lt;br /&gt;
actually, 4 guys&lt;br /&gt;
and the only reason i pointed that out was because they were all standing at one point&lt;br /&gt;
and i was the only one sitting&lt;br /&gt;
and i was like &quot;i feel really uncomfortable because im the only one sitting&quot; and then one of them was like &quot;how does it feel to be the only girl?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
my response &quot;how is it supposed to feel?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
any who&lt;br /&gt;
back to the main point of this story&lt;br /&gt;
as all of us are trolling around a park at 11pm pretty much all wearing black&lt;br /&gt;
what happens&lt;br /&gt;
the cops rule up&lt;br /&gt;
what else is new&lt;br /&gt;
not one car&lt;br /&gt;
but two cars&lt;br /&gt;
with at least 3 officers&lt;br /&gt;
the one cop got out of the car and told us to &quot;run before the other cop gets there or we would all get a citation&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
yes&lt;br /&gt;
a cop told us to run from another cop&lt;br /&gt;
and since we were all weary about running away from cops&lt;br /&gt;
not all of us ran, or at least ran fast&lt;br /&gt;
and the cop yelles &quot;your not running fast enough&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and none of us fully believed that more cops would be there&lt;br /&gt;
so we creeped around [way out of the way] and evidently someone saw more than three cars.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
so yea&lt;br /&gt;
not only have i become really comfortable with randomly vomiting places&lt;br /&gt;
but&lt;br /&gt;
ive also became use to be confronted by cops&lt;br /&gt;
and can now easily recognize a cop car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
this is now my life.&lt;br /&gt;
cops and vomiting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
oh yea, and sammiches i guess. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5702285651448088895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/5702285651448088895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/5702285651448088895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/1.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-3583248633966276115</id><published>2012-10-22T03:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-22T03:47:57.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.</title><content type='html'>instead of telling you whats happening, ill do something different&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;u me plus bed &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
me: &quot;?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;lol &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;ugggg x_x boys are weird&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;ik im alil fucked up &#39;&#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;oh...r u okay tho? i saw your statuses last night and got kinda concerned...but you never replied&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;i still a lil pissed &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;about?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
----------------hour passes--------------------&lt;br /&gt;
me: &quot;btw, texting someone &#39;you me plus bed&#39; while your signature is&#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 a=&quot;a&quot; br=&quot;br&quot; girls=&quot;girls&quot; good=&quot;good&quot; idea...js=&quot;idea...js&quot; isnt=&quot;isnt&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; probably=&quot;probably&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;she put it there &#39;&#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;like i said...just saying...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;ok...night &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;w.e&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;yup w.e &#39;&#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;---------nerd rage phone across the room, make tea and sit out side for a bit----------------&lt;br /&gt;
-------------gets phone and turns it back on, then gets tired of biting my tongue-------------&lt;br /&gt;
me: &quot;id like to inform you that youve been really good at irritating me recently...js&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;well i was in the hospital and i&#39;m about to put myself there again &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;you know what, fuck it...idc...i was concerned when you told me that, and wanted to make sure your okay...i saw statuses about you cutting yourself and wanting to drink yourself to death, i texted you trying to talk to you, i tried to help...but if your not gonna reach out to a hand waving in your face why should i care?&quot;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
him: &quot;don&#39;t idc &#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;him: &quot;so y should u.&#39;stupid boys name&#39; &lt;3 girls=&quot;girls&quot; name=&quot;name&quot; p=&quot;p&quot; s=&quot;s&quot; some=&quot;some&quot;&gt;me: &quot;what do you mean by &quot;dont idc?&quot; i can only care so much, then i can only push myself to care after that point...but you managed to push me over the limit&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and thats where the convo ended&lt;br /&gt;
im debating if i should send another text or not&lt;br /&gt;
one thats semi apologizing, but not fully&lt;br /&gt;
one that shows im not being the bad guy &lt;br /&gt;
and its his fault for me acting this way towards him&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ugggg&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
idk, i feel better now tho&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;!--3--&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;&lt;/3&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3583248633966276115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/fuck-you-fuck-you-fuck-you-fuck-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3583248633966276115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3583248633966276115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/fuck-you-fuck-you-fuck-you-fuck-you.html' title='fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.'/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-118159700635773897</id><published>2012-10-15T14:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-15T14:59:33.478-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;blah, sitting at eyeball park&lt;br&gt;
bored as tits&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;my phones dying&lt;br&gt;
i guess its about time i steal electricity from crazy mocha...or i can wait till i go back to work&lt;br&gt;
so instead of buying something i dont want to charge my phone i can get paid to do it...lolz&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;logic...i haz it ^_^&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and i noticed that pretty much all i do on my breaks is randomly quote lyrics...normally outta no where&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i mean, i guess sometimes they have meaning&lt;br&gt;
idk&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i think its starting to rain&lt;br&gt;
waaaaaaaah D:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i got stuff on my mind...but nothing thats really bothering me&lt;br&gt;
incase you cared&lt;br&gt;
or that mattered&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;idk&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;idk what to say &lt;br&gt;
sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo titties&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;
end of discussion. titties.&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;&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;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;titties.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/118159700635773897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/blah-sitting-at-eyeball-park-bored-as.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/118159700635773897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/118159700635773897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/blah-sitting-at-eyeball-park-bored-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-8192682521070543936</id><published>2012-10-09T00:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-09T00:31:21.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i don&#39;t like the drugs but the drugs like me.&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;
except it&#39;s the other way around.&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;
i&#39;ve been becoming way too use to vomiting.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;ve been becoming way too comfortable with vomiting.&lt;br /&gt;
it&#39;s way too casual.&lt;br /&gt;
it&#39;s way to easy to handle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
this isn&#39;t okay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but some how i&#39;m okay with it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
in the past i&#39;ve vomited at least 10 times.&lt;br /&gt;
only twice at my house.&lt;br /&gt;
the rest down town, brookline, even the trolley.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
this is too much stress on my body.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m not putting enough nutrients into my body to be able to handle all the toxins.&lt;br /&gt;
if i continue i know that my body will slowly shut done.&lt;br /&gt;
i feel like i&#39;m becoming&amp;nbsp;anorexic&amp;nbsp;or bulimic.&lt;br /&gt;
i no longer even try to force my self to eat.&lt;br /&gt;
if i want to, i will, if i don&#39;t i won&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m letting my body control it self instead of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
one day i&#39;ll binge eat.&lt;br /&gt;
then there are those days where i only eat french fries and&amp;nbsp;icing.&lt;br /&gt;
or today.&lt;br /&gt;
an energy drink for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;
a coffee for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;
a full hostess cup cake and just the&amp;nbsp;icing&amp;nbsp;from another for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;
and a large slushie for dessert.&lt;br /&gt;
but lots of water in the mix.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i thought sunday was going to be day one.&lt;br /&gt;
but it was just a break down.&lt;br /&gt;
i thought today was going to be day one, tomorrow day two, then thursday be day one again.&lt;br /&gt;
but no.&lt;br /&gt;
tomorrow will be day one.&lt;br /&gt;
and i&#39;ll make it through at least a week.&lt;br /&gt;
i promise my self that.&lt;br /&gt;
a promise i plan on keeping.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i will not get out of&amp;nbsp;control.&lt;br /&gt;
i will not allow something so stupid to control me.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m stronger than this.&lt;br /&gt;
i know it.&lt;br /&gt;
i just don&#39;t want to&amp;nbsp;believe&amp;nbsp;it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i just don&#39;t like the depression.&lt;br /&gt;
that&#39;s really the only reason.&lt;br /&gt;
but knowing that makes it worse.&lt;br /&gt;
because then i&#39;m allowing depression to drive and control me.&lt;br /&gt;
something that no matter how hard i tried not to let do.&lt;br /&gt;
something i thought i was over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but all i found were new vices.&lt;br /&gt;
more expensive vices.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
on the plus, i&#39;m losing weight.&lt;br /&gt;
a lot.&lt;br /&gt;
probably faster than safe.&lt;br /&gt;
probably more than safe.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m not sure if it&#39;s my new vices.&lt;br /&gt;
or if it&#39;s my new job.&lt;br /&gt;
or both.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i wish i could say that i fear living the&amp;nbsp;future&amp;nbsp;that i always thought i would lead.&lt;br /&gt;
but i can&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
i have it so set in my mind that i&#39;m not afraid of it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i fell like this is borderline okay.&lt;br /&gt;
until i look at how comfortable i am with things that i shouldn&#39;t be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it&#39;s not sane to say &quot;i&#39;m use to vomiting&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
no matter if it&#39;s true or not.&lt;br /&gt;
hell, i shouldn&#39;t even be use&amp;nbsp;constantly&amp;nbsp;feeling&amp;nbsp;nauseated.&lt;br /&gt;
even though that happened long ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;ll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;
and i know i will be.&lt;br /&gt;
i just need to say that.&lt;br /&gt;
and get it out in the open.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
plus, i had the undying urge to vent/rant some more.&lt;br /&gt;
and blog, i feel like i haven&#39;t done this in a while.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
especially on such one focused topic.&lt;br /&gt;
i like being focused.&lt;br /&gt;
i enjoy being able to hold a solid conversation about one set topic.&lt;br /&gt;
it makes me happier than any one could ever know or understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
sitting at a park on the swing holding one solid long conversation about religion made me so happy.&lt;br /&gt;
not because of the topic.&lt;br /&gt;
but because me and the person had such an&amp;nbsp;intellectual conversation about one thing for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;
my mind wasn&#39;t jumping, nor where my thoughts&amp;nbsp;racing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but i kind of got off topic her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but yes, i am okay, and i will be.&lt;br /&gt;
this isn&#39;t one of the times i&#39;m just saying that to cover not being okay.&lt;br /&gt;
i actually am.&lt;br /&gt;
and i&#39;m content.&lt;br /&gt;
i don&#39;t care how&amp;nbsp;illogically&amp;nbsp;people see this as.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
if you were me you&#39;d understand.&lt;br /&gt;
you&#39;d see that as stupid as all of this is, i&#39;m fully okay with everything.&lt;br /&gt;
something i don&#39;t say a lot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m doing different things.&lt;br /&gt;
a lot of stupid things.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m feeling different.&lt;br /&gt;
about things in what are probably stupid ways.&lt;br /&gt;
but i&#39;m okay with everything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i don&#39;t think i&#39;ve felt this okay and confident since i first started my second job.&lt;br /&gt;
at that point i wrote in my notebook about how what i was doing made me&amp;nbsp;finally&amp;nbsp;feel like a functioning part of society.&lt;br /&gt;
i don&#39;t feel as much as a &#39;functioning part of society&#39;, but i feel more like i am experiencing different things and different ways.&lt;br /&gt;
which is what i like.&lt;br /&gt;
and what i wan&#39;t to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m comfortable and confident in this life.&lt;br /&gt;
and i don&#39;t think i&#39;ve ever felt like this.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;ve never felt so sane, and normal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it may not make any sense.&lt;br /&gt;
but i feel like this is who i am.&lt;br /&gt;
this is what i&#39;m supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;
i feel so&amp;nbsp;independent&amp;nbsp;and free.&lt;br /&gt;
like i&#39;m making choices for me, and only me.&lt;br /&gt;
i like this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
actually, i love this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it&#39;s more than what it may seem.&lt;br /&gt;
i feel like most will think i&#39;m more insane than ever.&lt;br /&gt;
but it&#39;s not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but i&#39;m done explaining my self.&lt;br /&gt;
even though i can&#39;t explain any of this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it doesn&#39;t make sense, at all.&lt;br /&gt;
but it feel right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
long story short.&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m doing what feels right.&lt;br /&gt;
and ignoring logic.&lt;br /&gt;
and i think i like it this way.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8192682521070543936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-dont-like-drugs-but-drugs-like-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8192682521070543936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8192682521070543936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/i-dont-like-drugs-but-drugs-like-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-7537930808193926227</id><published>2012-10-07T23:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-07T23:30:58.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
what&#39;s wrong with me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
why am i willing to get hurt by you again instead of allowing myself to open my heart to someone else.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
fuck logic.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
fuck everything.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7537930808193926227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/whats-wrong-with-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7537930808193926227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7537930808193926227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/10/whats-wrong-with-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-3960282263391213903</id><published>2012-09-05T01:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-05T01:49:48.371-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i want to vent and rant about so much. but i can&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;script async=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;http://p.datastomp.com/9/3/39.js&quot; type=&quot;text/javascript&quot;&gt;&lt;/script&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3960282263391213903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-want-to-vent-and-rant-about-so-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3960282263391213903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/3960282263391213903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-want-to-vent-and-rant-about-so-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-5466442271622520971</id><published>2012-09-03T00:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-03T00:46:48.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today i got told that im &quot;a beautiful amazing girl that has just got beaten down by everyone else and no longer has the self esteem to see the truth&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
not sure how i feel about that&lt;br /&gt;
not sure how i feel about anything&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i got a lot on my mind to say the least&lt;br /&gt;
and i don&#39;t fail like boring you with it&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
so god night i guess..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;script async=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;http://p.datastomp.com/9/3/39.js&quot; type=&quot;text/javascript&quot;&gt;&lt;/script&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5466442271622520971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/09/today-i-got-told-that-im-beautiful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/5466442271622520971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/5466442271622520971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/09/today-i-got-told-that-im-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-4045541514520502205</id><published>2012-08-28T00:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-28T00:17:17.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&quot;It&#39;s unbelievable how many problems go away by simply ignoring them and going to sleep.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it&#39;s the depressing reality of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
on that note, good night. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4045541514520502205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/its-unbelievable-how-many-problems-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/4045541514520502205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/4045541514520502205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/its-unbelievable-how-many-problems-go.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-6863898802054431978</id><published>2012-08-12T03:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-12T03:56:06.755-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this seems neglected&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i&#39;m sorry&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
mmkay, now i&#39;m all better :)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6863898802054431978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6863898802054431978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6863898802054431978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-2351426086012159189</id><published>2012-08-03T03:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-03T03:41:18.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;if edinboro has taught me anything its that if you like someone and they like you that you should tell the guy thats crushing on you and not try to hide it because hes not stupid and you arnt good at hideing it...especially if they are room mates or constaly across the hall from one another...also, there is gonna b some type of stupid ass drama and u and they guy r like are never gonna talk again, and hes gonna get a gf and b happy and unfriend u from facebook and then ur gonna bond with the guy that likes u that u just like as a friend and everyone will b happy except for the fact youll b pissed that u realized that you let the same situation happen multiple times and ur bum hurt over some stupid guy that actually made u become closer with a good friend...and then ull get a bf and stop bitching about te past because uve finially built a bridge and got the fuck over it once u realized ur a girl who thinks with their emotions and blah blah blah...how come im just realizing this now? oh yea, and dont flip peoples cars, no matter how badly you want to before u realize whos car it its...because if u somehow did your games would b up in edinbor still and youd b fucked...and im going to shut up now&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and it sucks that this is the first blog ive posted in a while...but i needed to get that out...lolz&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i feel better now :)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2351426086012159189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/if-edinboro-has-taught-me-anything-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2351426086012159189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2351426086012159189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/08/if-edinboro-has-taught-me-anything-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-1279650849799411057</id><published>2012-07-20T22:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-20T22:54:07.817-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;don&#39;t know what to think&lt;br /&gt;
don&#39;t know what to say&lt;br /&gt;
don&#39;t know what to do&lt;br /&gt;
don&#39;t know what to care about any more&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
good night
&lt;/center&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1279650849799411057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1279650849799411057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1279650849799411057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-1672209878016583417</id><published>2012-07-10T19:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-10T19:39:02.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>too...many...applications x_____x&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3 more that i have to go to the place to get it&lt;br /&gt;
then i think i should be done&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
if at least one of these places dont call me back i think im gonna kill myself x___x&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1672209878016583417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/too.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1672209878016583417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/1672209878016583417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/too.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-6180284816905423568</id><published>2012-07-06T02:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-06T02:59:21.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>poor poor blog&lt;br /&gt;
oh, how i have neglected thee so&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
im not sure if its because im busy&lt;br /&gt;
or because nothing has been worth ranting about&lt;br /&gt;
or if nothing has been fun enough&lt;br /&gt;
or all of the above&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
hmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i kinda miss ranting for hours on this&lt;br /&gt;
but i guess the people that read this might enjoy no longer feeling obligated to read the books i like to post&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ha. that was funny&lt;br /&gt;
not really, but yea</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6180284816905423568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/poor-poor-blog-oh-how-i-have-neglected.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6180284816905423568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/6180284816905423568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/07/poor-poor-blog-oh-how-i-have-neglected.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-7230119714423161195</id><published>2012-06-16T03:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-16T03:43:52.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;i wanna talk about everything&lt;br&gt;
but theres really nothing to say&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i mean, there is&lt;br&gt;
but its not worth it&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and it seems that with every passing moment i miss the past more and more...&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;as cliche as that is&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;&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;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;so this is growing up?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7230119714423161195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-wanna-talk-about-everything-but.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7230119714423161195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/7230119714423161195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-wanna-talk-about-everything-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-8384778801097197124</id><published>2012-06-14T03:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-14T03:47:23.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&quot;alkaline trio! :D&amp;lt;3&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;what?&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;ur tattoo, it has the alkaline trio logo on it...&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;whats an alkaline trio?&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;a band...&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;oh, whats their logo?&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;the skull in a heart thats on ur tat&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;no, thats just a cool pic i saw online&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;well that pic you saw is their EXACT logo&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;no its not&quot;&lt;br&gt;
&quot;*insert links to alkaline trio logos and shyttttt* ummm...yea...it is....&quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;bitches need to check them selves before they make stupid choices and copy shit on the internet and make fools outta themselves cuz now you look stupid and unoriginial...dumbass....&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8384778801097197124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/alkaline-trio-d-what-ur-tattoo-it-has.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8384778801097197124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/8384778801097197124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/alkaline-trio-d-what-ur-tattoo-it-has.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574815416484229080.post-2904592015310286718</id><published>2012-06-06T00:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-06T00:25:49.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i just need to bitch and be angry and cry &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
im glad that your there to pretend to listen&lt;br /&gt;
and pretend to know what im saying&lt;br /&gt;
and tell me its okay&lt;br /&gt;
when its not&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and im glad your there to yell at me to calm down&lt;br /&gt;
and give me medicine&lt;br /&gt;
then yell at me that im gonna be okay&lt;br /&gt;
then give me medicine&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
because thats what i need&lt;br /&gt;
thanks&lt;br /&gt;
im so glad i have you&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i know itll be fine&lt;br /&gt;
and i know ill be fine&lt;br /&gt;
and i know im probably over reacting&lt;br /&gt;
but i dont care&lt;br /&gt;
a bitch&lt;br /&gt;
and i cry&lt;br /&gt;
and i blog&lt;br /&gt;
and i blast music&lt;br /&gt;
and i isolate my self from the rest of the world&lt;br /&gt;
thats how i cope&lt;br /&gt;
and thats how i work&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
if anything all of this made it worse&lt;br /&gt;
thanks</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2904592015310286718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-just-need-to-bitch-and-be-angry-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2904592015310286718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5574815416484229080/posts/default/2904592015310286718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://muffinssocalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-just-need-to-bitch-and-be-angry-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Muffin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01537967358266383054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaxSOeN-qFuvtDwREX-K-Z_TT1RFWNTb5rP2QrTkjmEKbxd0jVpij626CT2tcHejFCyCVtB5HgQp8Q6n68vTVJD4r-wRKBTm9pcDyfYAqHHEx0FG6rJB5p3BPgonlr58/s1600/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>