<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351</id><updated>2012-01-04T17:43:40.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiot Waltz</title><subtitle type='html'>just another way to drain my brain</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8554726956276251865</id><published>2012-01-04T17:30:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T17:41:49.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End Of An Era.</title><content type='html'>It's been ages since I've written anything. It's been ages since I've done anything really. Some days I feel like I'm doomed to spend my whole life failing at everything. But today I'm trying to keep positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I recieved a message on facebook from Joshua, explaining that he was never going to talk to me again because he has met someone else. I'm okay with him meeting someone, I honestly am. As much as I love him and won't ever get over that, I know that it's for the best that he moves on. And I want him to be happy. But the girl he chose isn't someone new really. She's someone he had been sleeping with and lying to me about. This part vexes me. He swore up and down to me so many times that she was just a friend, and I never really believed it. Obviously I never should have. Though we were never really back together, it still hurts more than anything I've ever known. He used every cliché in the book too, it was a little pathetic. I wish he had at least had the nerve to say it over the phone, and given me a proper goodbye, so that maybe someday when I've moved on too we could be friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, I'm not worth that much. Instead I was lied to and dropped permanently over FACEBOOK. Hands up if you've ever thought "Man, this world would be so much better without Facebook..." and then still been unable to delete your profile. The sheer thought of being so unconnected to everything after knowing what it's like is madness to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with all this frustration comes something good. Now that I'm not with Cole, and no longer tied to Joshua, I can move on with my life in a more direct manner than just getting over a heartache. I'm arranging things here so that I can move back to Toronto in the summertime. I feel like I've got more for me there than I ever will here, and without my parents to fall back on, I'll manage to go farther.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, all that's left for me to do is take the box of his stupid gifts and drop it off High Level Bridge, and I'm on my way to never looking back. I just hope the little girl is worth it. ;]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8554726956276251865?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8554726956276251865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8554726956276251865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8554726956276251865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8554726956276251865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2012/01/end-of-era.html' title='The End Of An Era.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2512701042572795386</id><published>2011-04-16T00:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T00:47:38.347-06:00</updated><title type='text'>regret</title><content type='html'>I did all I could to keep the man that I love safe from the pain I was causing both of us. I think I was wrong in doing so but I can't go back now. Everything breaks down to a pathetic way out for me and the hope that he moves on to find someone who can really make him happy. But no matter what no one on this earth will ever love him as much as I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2512701042572795386?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2512701042572795386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2512701042572795386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2512701042572795386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2512701042572795386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2011/04/regret.html' title='regret'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6010936688039955793</id><published>2011-03-30T23:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T23:32:47.389-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PROcrastinator</title><content type='html'>Technical difficulties and bad weather = no new posts or pictures! I promise I will get on this soon though! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6010936688039955793?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6010936688039955793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6010936688039955793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6010936688039955793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6010936688039955793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2011/03/procrastinator.html' title='PROcrastinator'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8303953181091960859</id><published>2011-01-31T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T19:19:49.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>These days are numbered</title><content type='html'>My brother and his girlfriend broke up. It's sad, I know he's happier. He's my brother and I love him. But she's my friend, and he mistreated her and broke her heart. It's none of my business, but it concerns me.  &lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br/&gt; Mostly it makes me worry about me and josh. Things have been amazing, and I'm not really scared. We've come so far and I know we're both so happy. But just seeing how easily and carelessly my brother gave up on her blows my mind. I know josh is nothing like my brother and wouldn't ever do that to me, I still can't explain the feeling of pure dread.  &lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br/&gt; But I'll get over it. And so will she. She's staying in the city. I'm glad for my own selfish reasons, and proud of her for not giving up and running home. And now that they broke up I get to go with her to pendulum at the end of the month! Whee! &lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br/&gt; So 2011 is taking some interesting turns. Some good, some bad, but still we'll find a way to make the best out of it all. One day at a time, and everyday closer to August and my man. &amp;hearts;&lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.6&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8303953181091960859?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8303953181091960859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8303953181091960859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8303953181091960859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8303953181091960859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2011/01/these-days-are-numbered.html' title='These days are numbered'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4350657191990133933</id><published>2011-01-15T23:43:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T00:08:29.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Technical Difficulties!</title><content type='html'>So I've been trying to upload the pictures I had promised, but for some reason my computer is just not letting it happen! I promise they will be soon though, I haven't forgotten!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4350657191990133933?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4350657191990133933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4350657191990133933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4350657191990133933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4350657191990133933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2011/01/technical-difficulties.html' title='Technical Difficulties!'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-7761626534684232226</id><published>2011-01-02T20:35:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T20:59:26.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Little Birds.</title><content type='html'>Happy belated Holidays! I hope everyone had a totally rad holiday season, I know mine was ultra fantastic! I've made one new years resolution, and it's to write more and get back into my photography. I've been painting a bit, but I think it'd been good for me to keep up both. When I'm on my computer later I'll do some pic uploads, I feel I owe it to everyone since that was my original intention for this blog. Somewhere along the line it turned into my rage page. So let's remedy that, but after another good vent, alright?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've really got nothing to chat about, just a few things that have happened lately. I've spent the last month reconnecting with my older brother, and getting to know his lovely girlfriend. She's younger than me but very mature and lots of fun. I've gotten pretty close with her, and it's been great. I can tell she's feeling much more comfortable in our family and seeing that means the world to me. She's from another province, and I remember what it was like being her age and alone away from my family. I want her to know she's home with us too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other incredible recent events... Joshua told his family about us! Omg! I'm so psyched about it still and this was weeks ago. But it's been amazing. His brother and sister have both spoken to me know and his mother wants to speak to me. I'm so incredibly in love with him and so proud to be his girl. I feel like now no matter what we'll make this work because his family is supporting his choice to be with me. Everything is perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, things are pretty standard. Working, sleeping, and drinking lots. Hope everyone had a fantastic start to 2011! More posts and photos coming soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-7761626534684232226?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/7761626534684232226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=7761626534684232226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7761626534684232226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7761626534684232226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2011/01/three-little-birds.html' title='Three Little Birds.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6196826438509398338</id><published>2010-11-13T02:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T02:40:18.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun's gonna shine on everything you do ♫</title><content type='html'>Things have been looking way up lately. I had another outbreak, and it was pretty horrible, but I managed to get through it alright. There was another round of ineffective antibiotics but I'm cleared up at the moment and feeling loads better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been getting out a lot more, and seeing more friends. One of the girls I was very close with while working at Blockbuster has become an incredibly good friend, along with her geeky boyfriend. I have been spending a couple nights each week at their place, and it's been really fun. I've also been hanging out with Dan a lot, which has been just as awesome. At first my mom really didn't approve of me hanging out with him since he's much older than me, but she's calmed down a lot since she's gotten to know him better. He comes out to see me at least once a week, and we talk every day. For the first time in a very long time, I have &lt;i&gt;reliable&lt;/i&gt; friends. It's enough to make me wanna cry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh has been around more too, but I feel like a jerk since I'm hardly here now. Still, we're seeing more of eachother than we did before, and it's been wonderful. We talk for at least a couple hours everyday, and I'm feeling so much happier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having an easier time with work as well. Mind you I've barely had any shifts lately, but as of the week after next I'll be going back to full time so long as my health stays up! *fingers crossed* Yes, ladies and gents, things are definitely getting better! ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6196826438509398338?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6196826438509398338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6196826438509398338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6196826438509398338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6196826438509398338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/11/suns-gonna-shine-on-everything-you-do.html' title='Sun&apos;s gonna shine on everything you do ♫'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-56486193527207509</id><published>2010-10-10T16:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T17:09:28.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God put a smile upon my face.</title><content type='html'>I'm lonely. That doesn't seem like it would be hard to say, and I guess I've been lonely before. But not really like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really lost, and the few friends I was close with have grown really distant since I moved to Sherwood Park. They're busy with their lives, and I'm happy for them, but I do miss them. I've tried to keep them close, but I can't get into the city to see them, and they're too focused on other things to look my way. I don't have a cell phone at the moment, and apparently calling a house phone is just too much work. My best friend can't be bothered to come see me, though she keeps inviting me to clubs and getting mad when I say no. Then she bitches at me about not taking care of my health. Because a sweaty club with a serious infection would be a great thing for my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell her that I just need a friend. Someone to talk to. Even if she just came out for an hour or something, even just to give me a hug. The only people I ever see any more are my parents and coworkers. I've tried to make friends with people at work, but I've nothing in common with any of them, and I can't see myself being friends with any of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only people I really talk to are millions of miles away. My friend Matt, who also lives in England has become one of the best friends I've got. He is wonderful and does so much to cheer me up and be here for me, and so does my friend Andrea. But they are so far away, and I hate telling them about my problems. I have the same trouble with Joshua. I know they want to help me, but there isn't much they can do, and I know it just upsets them and makes them worry. And I really don't want to spend so much time on my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joshua moved back to Nottingham the other day. He's been the one person who really helps me keep it all together. I feel like a horrible girlfriend, I was so sad to see him leave, even though I know he was excited and it's going to be great for him. But I'm selfish and I miss him. He promised it won't be like before, and that he'll still talk to me a lot. But already I'm scared. Early this morning his friend sent me a message saying his computer blew something and he won't have a replacement until tomorrow. I tried to call his cell phone, and I'm really not sure why I even bother any more. It just makes me feel like shit every time I do, in all the time I've known him he's never answered it once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this so much. I feel ridiculous. I want to curl up and cry, because it feels like that's all I can do right now. I could log onto DA, and start random conversations with people who don't care... I could go upstairs and tell my mama, but she already knows... I could tell my friends over the phone, but it wouldn't change anything. I'd give so much just to have someone to sit and watch a movie with. I feel like a two year old that just went from being the only child to being the older sibling to a newborn. I could cry and beg for attention, but no one would really be that bothered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-56486193527207509?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/56486193527207509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=56486193527207509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/56486193527207509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/56486193527207509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/10/god-put-smile-upon-my-face.html' title='God put a smile upon my face.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4455583919821937472</id><published>2010-10-09T23:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T00:23:03.245-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Come What May.</title><content type='html'>I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; need to start writing more often! Every time I sit down to post something I realize there's so many things I want to get off my chest that I don't even know where to start, and I end up leaving novels on here! So I'm going to try to leave the short versions today, and make a plan to write every weekend. Or at least make an effort to. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, my MRSA is back. &lt;b&gt;Mega ick!&lt;/b&gt; It came back about a week ago, I developed a lesion and became quite sick. It's healed up now and I'm feeling a bit better, but I can feel myself getting a flu, which is depressing. When I was ill with it before, it was a vicious cycle of me getting sick, and having an outbreak of lesions. My immune system would be fighting off one and let the other in, apparently it can't multitask very well. But I'm going to my doctor, and to see a few specialists as well. I'm trying to be tough, but it's &lt;b&gt;scary&lt;/b&gt;, and it really crushes me both physically and mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Related to that, my best friend from grade school has been a huge bitch about it. Most people don't know much about MRSA as it's only been common in recent years. But people seem to think that they know what's best for me, and try to give me advice when they've no idea what they're on about. Insert best friend into that situation. I ask her to drive me to the hospital, she tells me that until I start taking this seriously, she refuses to waste her time. She expects me to quit my job and admit myself to quarantine. Prescriptions are costly, and not all of us can have our parents and boyfriends pay our ways through life. It's be nice I'm sure, but it's not going to happen. Besides, if I give up and stop working, how the hell am I going to get to England this spring!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Joshua. He's been my rock through all of this. He is such an absolute King. He's moved back to Nottingham this morning, and I'm already missing him, but I believe that we'll make it work this time. I promised that I won't be giving up again, and he promised he won't forget me this time. I'm so very in love with him, and I can't imagine a life without his love. I'm so excited for May!!!!!! Eeeeek! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;He's so good to me, I wanna show him how much I appreciate him and how special he is to me. I just really hope I've managed to get rid of my infection before then. I don't want to spend the whole time worried about getting him ill, and if I did I would never forgive myself. He's the best thing to ever happen in my life! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully my boss has been great about me being ill. I sat down with him and explained the situation to him, and he's been extremely understanding and accommodating. He's agreed to giving me as much time off as I need in May, as well as switching up my hours when I'm really ill. And I'm getting better at the job too. I've been selling phones and upgrades all over the place! I really hate phones so I'm a bit shit at it still, but I'm friendly and good with the technical ins and out of it all. I'm going to get ever better though, the more I sell just makes it easier to get to my baby! &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4455583919821937472?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4455583919821937472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4455583919821937472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4455583919821937472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4455583919821937472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/10/come-what-may.html' title='Come What May.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6653389784887010503</id><published>2010-09-25T23:21:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T00:51:07.741-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Knockin' On Wood.</title><content type='html'>This new job is killing me. I'm working 40+ hours a week, at $10 an hour. I'm barely sleeping because when I get home I spend my time with Josh. I get one or two days off a week and I spend them trying to catch up with my friends and my parents. I'm &lt;i&gt;sooo&lt;/i&gt; tired. And this is just the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trip to England is going to cost me roughly &lt;b&gt;$4000&lt;/b&gt;. I have just over six months to save that up. My current monthly salary is about $1200, and my living costs are low, but my debts are running pretty high since I spent the summer ill and out of work. I should be able to clear them up in about four pay terms, but as a security measure, I'm looking for a second job. The last thing I want is to clear up my debt and not afford this trip. I &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;need&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; to see my baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm hoping to find a serving job somewhere. I'll have to bite the bullet and start getting up early so I can pull at least a 5 hour morning shift before going to close at the video store. I figure even a few days a week would be enough, since I'll be getting tips from serving. I also make commission at the video store for selling phones. I made an extra $80 the other day by setting up a couple contracts, and another $20 tonight for a simple text add-on. I hate it deeply, but I gotta make this happen. I've never been more determined on anything in my life. It's amazing that he can inspire this in me, but I think a lot of it has to do with the situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him so much, and I tell everyone I know about him all the time. My friends, my family, my coworkers. But to the people in his life, I'm unknown. A few of his friends know, but I don't think they know much. I'm going to feel so unbelievably awkward when I get there and I'm such a mystery to everyone. On top of that, it just hurts. I really hate it, and that just makes it worse. I wish I didn't care so it wouldn't bother me. Then I would never mention it, and we wouldn't fight about it. Fighting about it just makes me feel even more horrid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm praying to whatever deities are out there that when after I go there, these feelings go away. It truly breaks my heart to be working so hard for him when he can't even have the nerve to bring me to life in his world. Especially when he knows how hard I'm working to be with him for only a few weeks. I want it to be a two way street, I hate feeling this way. I know it's hard to talk to people about our kind of relationship, and I try my best to be understanding. Still, sometimes I can't bear it. I wish I could scream that he's my boyfriend so loud that everyone in the world would hear it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait til May. I need proof that this is all real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6653389784887010503?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6653389784887010503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6653389784887010503&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6653389784887010503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6653389784887010503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/09/knockin-on-wood.html' title='Knockin&apos; On Wood.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-3497551347605208892</id><published>2010-09-19T04:18:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T04:31:45.974-06:00</updated><title type='text'>True Blue.</title><content type='html'>I've been feeling quite down lately. I'm not sure what's gotten into me. I'm a bit lonely, though I really shouldn't feel so. And I've got my ex room mates jumping at me for money since their power got cut off, though I've been gone about 4 months. I'm having a really hard time trying to understand how that has anything to do with me. Siiiigh. I can't wait to get away from all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, my new job is going a bit better. My first week was so awkward, everyone there is very tight knit, and they were all very strange around me at first. But now they've all opened up to me a lot more, and I'm getting more comfortable everyday. It's really hard to break out of my Blockbuster habits. People ask me about policies and programs and I start replying with the old answers. I feel like a fool and then try to explain that I used to work for another company but the people here don't care, they just want to get their movies and get away from the strange pierced girl with purple hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place doesn't suit me at all, everything is so backwards. At least in my ghetto no one gave me such horrified looks for my hair colors. Some days I wish I could ask my father for a place to stay, but I know he would make it awkward and I would hate it. I've got it really good here, and my mama and Papa Bear actually &lt;b&gt;want&lt;/b&gt; me here. I just wish they could live in the city. And at the same time I'm really glad they don't. It's nice living a stone's throw from work and not being afraid to walk home after closing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to stay positive. I just keep reminding myself that all this garbage now will just dissolve into nothing when May comes. I'll be in England, in the arms of the most amazing person to ever walk this earth. And just one minute of that will be worth a life time of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-3497551347605208892?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/3497551347605208892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=3497551347605208892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3497551347605208892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3497551347605208892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/09/true-blue.html' title='True Blue.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-821651864584686188</id><published>2010-08-31T01:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:41:58.205-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams.</title><content type='html'>My most amazing and terrible quality is my free spirit. My ability to let go of everything I have and hold dear to go and experience life has gotten me quite far. But it has also caused me a &lt;b&gt;ton&lt;/b&gt; of pain and regret. The most recent being giving up Joshua to be with someone who was not at all what he had led me to believe. I let go of the person that meant the most to me. The worst part was that I did it all for a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then I have come to my senses. I reconnected with Joshua a little over a month ago. I never thought anything could be so painful and wonderful at the same time. It was like getting struck by lightning and having all your wishes come true. Not that I know what getting struck by lightning really feels like, but I imagine it felt like that. Though instead of electricity coursing through my body, it was absolute love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were mega complicated though. I wasn't single, and though I wasn't in love with him anymore I didn't want to hurt him or make it hard. But I hurt Joshua in this. I would have to leave to Rod when all I wanted was to be with Josh. I successfully managed to break two hearts at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's all over now. I'm back, my heart is where it belongs, and I couldn't be happier. I am not religious by a long shot, but I still say prayers to who ever might be listening for this second chance. He's like the rain in spring, he makes me want to bloom and do so much more with this life. So in the spring of this year, I'll be going to England. This time I won't let anything stop me. We've become so much stronger, I really believe with out a shadow of a doubt we're going to make it. We're both so very in love, I feel like I'm in a dream some times. If I am, I hope I never wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-821651864584686188?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/821651864584686188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=821651864584686188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/821651864584686188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/821651864584686188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/08/sweet-dreams.html' title='Sweet Dreams.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1591547092217568419</id><published>2010-06-15T15:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T16:04:45.354-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Lovin'</title><content type='html'>Rod and I hooked up. A little while back, I developed a crush on him, and shortly after found out he was interested too. I've fallen pretty hard, and extremely fast. I've never met a boy who treated me the way he does. He's my best friend and my lover, and he knows better to show me his feelings than to tell me. It's pretty amazing, and absolutely terrifying. But I couldn't be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we're going away to BC. For all those non-Canadians out there, that's British Columbia. Arguably one of the most beautiful places in this country. My aunt runs a theater company out there, and she's hosting a fundraiser for it, so I'm going out to help, and get a little R&amp;R while we're at it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a last minute plan, it's seeming like it'll be a lot of fun, despite low funds and possible car troubles we might encounter. Still, I'm beyond excited for it. I've never been on a trip with a boyfriend before, and I've never been on a real road trip before either. Very, very excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be leaving early Thursday morning to avoid traffic, and coming back sometime on Monday. That gives us plenty of time to venture around and see some sights, maybe I'll stop failing at photography and take some pictures. I'm well over due for some snaps. I've been so busy that anytime I can get a free minute I'd rather spend it sleeping on my face. This weekend will be my much needed and the &lt;i&gt;*maybe*&lt;/i&gt; the only vacation I'll be getting this summer. Aaaaah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1591547092217568419?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1591547092217568419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1591547092217568419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1591547092217568419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1591547092217568419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/06/summer-lovin.html' title='Summer Lovin&apos;'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-3485573104681070571</id><published>2010-05-12T15:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T16:56:31.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'>endless night.</title><content type='html'>A couple things have happened lately... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, Josh and I broke up officially. He ended it in a text message. Normally that sort of thing would send me off into a rage, but there were more pressing issues at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rod's cat Loki was throwing up a couple days ago. At first we wrote it off as a reaction to the dry food. The next day I barely saw him. I spotted him once laying on the stairs, and once more later on sleeping behind the couch. I didn't think much of his lazing about, since he is a cat, after all. The next day I didn't see him at all before work, and we couldn't find him at all upon searching the house. So after dinner we went looking for him through the neighborhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few hours of searching, we went home for a rest, and put on a movie. Then Schane burst upstairs saying Loki had appeared in the hallway downstairs. When we went down he was clearly sick. He couldn't keep his head up, he was breathing strangely, and he was twitching somewhat. When we offered him water he would sniff at it but he wouldn't drink. When he tried to walk it was like he had vertigo. He couldn't balance, he'd take a few steps and then flop down onto the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wanted to take him to the animal hospital, but we decided to wait til morning with the advice of our parents and the fact that none of us had the money to pay for it. So we moved him upstairs into my room so we could keep a close eye on him and give him a soft, quiet place to lay down. Around midnight, he took his first drink of water since he showed up. And things took a turn for the worst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after his few drops of water, he began to flail awkwardly and flop around. He let out sad, excruciating cries. We tried to keep him still and quiet, and then we noticed that he was leaving spots of blood on the blanket I had laid down for him. He was peeing it out. I grabbed the carrier and we set off for the hospital with the financial help of Rod's mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got there, it was about 1 in the morning. The secretary handed Rod a clip board and he sat down to fill out the forms. I knelt down by the carrier to check on Loki and saw he wasn't moving at all. I opened it and realized he wasn't breathing any more. He had died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had several pets in my life, I've had a few of them pass on, and some of them just sent on to new homes. Out of the ones who had died, I've only experienced one of them first hand. My pet rescued pigeon Squab died in my arms when I was 18. He had been unhealthy since I found him mangled on the sidewalk a few months before, so his death came much easier to me. Seeing him die was painful, and very difficult, but it was nothing like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knelt there for what felt like forever. Rod looked down at me and asked if he was okay. I don't know how long I sat on the dirty floor, speechless and wishing he'd just know. I managed to mumble a few words. Rod didn't hear me, and I had to say it again. Even now I don't want to type it out. I could barely look at him, I wished I was somewhere else miles away where I didn't have to be the one to tell him that his poor cat had died on the drive to safe his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the nurse understood that something was wrong, because as soon as I told Rod, she asked how Loki was doing. When Rod told her he had died, she began handing him forms for cremation and giving him prices and options without so much as an "I'm sorry for your loss". I wanted to punch her in the face. Instead I told her to fuck off for a minute and held Rod while he got over the shock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After letting it set in, he went to the counter, paid the cremation fees, and went out to the car. We sat there silently for a while and I did my best to be strong for him. But I was crying just as hard as he was as I held him. Loki wasn't my cat, but I took care of him and I loved him despite all the trouble he caused me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home I let Rod curl up and rest in my bed, and laid there awake all night. In the morning Rod went to work and I found someone to cover for me today. Since then I've been wandering aimlessly, trying to decide what to do about all this. I'm not very good with handling these sorts of situations. Rod is so dear to me, and it breaks my heart to see him like this, but I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing and making him more upset. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've cried more than enough for today though... so I'm going to end this now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-3485573104681070571?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/3485573104681070571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=3485573104681070571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3485573104681070571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3485573104681070571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/05/endless-night.html' title='endless night.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8113020882498679979</id><published>2010-05-04T13:46:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T14:08:58.349-06:00</updated><title type='text'>le sigh.</title><content type='html'>You know those days where the weather is a perfect reflection of how you're feeling? I'm having one of those today. It's supposed to be spring time, the weather had gotten so much nicer and then bam! The lush green grass and twinkling little buds on the trees are all covered in cold, wet snow. Fresh starts snuffed out in a frosty blur. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't speak all weekend. I was out of town and busy with my parents birthdays. Today was the first time in a little while. He told me he doesn't know if he loves me anymore. Which in my experience is just a softer way of saying that he doesn't love me anymore and is trying to find a better time to tell me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... Now I guess I'm just waiting for him to find that moment. I just hope he does it sooner than later. Actually, I'm a liar. I hope he never does. Until then I'm sitting here staring out the window, watching a sad white sheet cover my spring time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8113020882498679979?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8113020882498679979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8113020882498679979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8113020882498679979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8113020882498679979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/05/le-sigh.html' title='le sigh.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6135920187728292046</id><published>2010-04-24T05:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T05:39:52.620-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairy Tales.</title><content type='html'>So in love with him. &lt;3 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, unbelievabley so. Maybe it'll all work out okay afterall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6135920187728292046?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6135920187728292046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6135920187728292046&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6135920187728292046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6135920187728292046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/04/fairy-tales.html' title='Fairy Tales.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8220372979777519585</id><published>2010-04-15T18:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T19:08:01.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Only You.</title><content type='html'>Somedays I really, truly hate myself. I'm not really emo or anything, I'm not going to sit here and scratch my wrists with safety pins. But I definitely have days where I honestly can't stand to be alone, because I'll sit here pondering and being absolutely disgusted by everything I do and everything I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Josh, I really do. But I can't date my computer screen forever. I would have given up everything to go to England and be with him still, but he refused me everytime. So in my brilliant attempt to stop this downward spiral, I ended things. Oh, ho ho. Sometimes, I am the biggest idiot on this fair planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I could long for someone I've never met so desperately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8220372979777519585?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8220372979777519585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8220372979777519585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8220372979777519585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8220372979777519585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/04/only-you.html' title='Only You.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1222180658149179191</id><published>2010-04-13T10:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T11:09:08.867-06:00</updated><title type='text'>paper heart.</title><content type='html'>We broke up. It was peaceful, no arguing. But my heart still feels like it's being tossed through a shredder over and over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1222180658149179191?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1222180658149179191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1222180658149179191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1222180658149179191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1222180658149179191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/04/paper-heart.html' title='paper heart.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8477471373083881163</id><published>2010-04-09T16:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T17:06:12.661-06:00</updated><title type='text'>live fast, dye hard.</title><content type='html'>Busy, busy, busy! The past few weeks have been uber hectic, with work, side jobs, and getting sick. A couple weeks ago I was bitten by something and had an allergic reaction. I woke up one morning with a teeny little bump on my tummy and within a week it had swollen up to about 5 inches around and was making me violently ill. Along with that my immune system opted for an open door policy and I got a cold as well. So my easter long weekend was spent in hospitals and on my mothers couch. But thanks to the magic of modern medicine it's all better now and my cold is almost gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After such a revolting stint, I've been doing everything I can to not feel like a disgusting mass of illness. So right now I'm dying my hair. I had it black with a little bit of green for a while, but I've decided to go back to my trademark of obscenely bright colors. So it's currently in a globby showercap turning turquoise and hot pink. &amp;hearts; I'm also trying out a new brand of dye that my friend Jessica recommended. She put some purple in her hair a little while ago, and it's lasted fantastically, so I've got faith. It'd be really nice to only have to color it once every few weeks instead of every few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8477471373083881163?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8477471373083881163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8477471373083881163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8477471373083881163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8477471373083881163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/04/live-fast-dye-hard.html' title='live fast, dye hard.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6773913951170792941</id><published>2010-03-19T01:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T01:53:10.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Bee</title><content type='html'>Aaaah. It's a little bit past my bed time, but I just can't sleep at the moment. I feel like I haven't had time for anything, I've been so busy. But really it's that I've been giving all my time to &lt;b&gt;everything&lt;/b&gt;, I've got none left for myself. This is the first bit of downtime I've had in ages. It's kinda nice I guess, but for the most part I'm really bored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I got to celebrate my first drunken St. Patrick's Day. My friends were all excited cos it's &lt;i&gt;my holiday&lt;/i&gt;. Not really though, cos my family is Protestant. But hey, any reason to drink is a good reason, right? I'm sure my ancestors would forgive me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with my room mate Will and a couple friends from work. It was a ton of fun, and I bought my first pint of Guinness. It was actually delicious. &amp;hearts; I was expecting something much worse, I've heard nothing but bad about it from everyone. I'm definitely looking forward to next years. Until then I'm gonna go back to resting my poor abused liver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6773913951170792941?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6773913951170792941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6773913951170792941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6773913951170792941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6773913951170792941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/busy-bee.html' title='Busy Bee'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8830119729221174505</id><published>2010-03-15T15:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T15:53:43.474-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Slush puppies.</title><content type='html'>It's finally spring. The snow is almost all gone, the trees will be budding soon, and through all of this all I want is for the corner store to turn their slushie machines back on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, it's Edmonton. There's no point in even turning them off, because even in -50 we all still love our slurpees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8830119729221174505?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8830119729221174505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8830119729221174505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8830119729221174505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8830119729221174505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/slush-puppies.html' title='Slush puppies.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1528747123567372302</id><published>2010-03-13T18:49:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T19:24:20.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shipping Error.</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to get more organized lately. Which is difficult, because I'm an insane pack-rat and a major airhead. It's the number one contributing factor in my disbelief of astrology and stuff. Virgos are always said to be hella organized. If it wasn't so totally embarrassing, I'd post a picture of my room to disprove that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I've been on the hunt for a day timer, so that I can write down my work schedules and other plans in a book instead of scraps of paper stuffed into my bag. I rarely ever miss anything, but it does make for alot of little pieces of paper falling out anytime I go for something in my bag. Not to mention all over my bomb blast of a bedroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I checked a couple different stores, and every one of them was sold out. I guess I can understand since it is just after New Years and everything probably went on sale. So today my room mate Will and I went to the mall because he wanted to buy a few things and I wanted to pick up a cell phone charm for my latest love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up searching through the whole mall, finding everything he needed, my phone charm and about 30 things I really didn't need. Like Super Mario band-aids, Ghostbusters and David Bowie flair pieces for my bag, a pretty ring, some nail polish, everything but a freaking day timer! I'm not sure if I've just got terrible timing, or if it's some kind of conspiracy to make sure I keep accidentally littering scraps of paper everywhere when I grab my cigarettes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a store that had one left. It was filled with pictures of flowers laid out to form shoes. It was very pretty, and I'm sure my grandmother would have loved it, but I don't like flowers that much, and I'm not really into shoes either. I either wear my black boots, or my four year old Etnies. So the hunt for organization lives on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I realized how great my room mates can be. They put me through such a head ache with their disturbing humor and constant womanizing, but Will let me drag him through about twenty of the girliest stores in search of the perfect charm for this phone, and he didn't complain once. He even paid for our ice cream!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1528747123567372302?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1528747123567372302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1528747123567372302&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1528747123567372302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1528747123567372302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/shipping-error.html' title='Shipping Error.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4866722922391803883</id><published>2010-03-12T01:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T01:31:49.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Modernizing.</title><content type='html'>Today I finally got a new phone! I had been saving up to get a Samsung Cleo for a while now, and I was going to get one this weekend. Jessica works for Bell Mobility so I was gonna have her set me up with a sexy plan and everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this morning she calls me to tell me that she can't get me the Cleo I wanted because they don't have it in purple and I've sort of been dying for a purple phone for a while now. Instead she offers me another phone, an LG Xenon. It's purple, slider, touch screen, very sexy. She tells me it's gonna be about $400, but she'll talk to her manager to see what she can take off. Turned out she was able to take off the whole thing. So I got myself a shiny new toy. In glorious &lt;font color=purple&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;purple&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;. &amp;hearts; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only downside to the whole thing is that I had to sign my first contract. Up til today all my expenses have been on month to month payments. It's a little silly, I've just always preferred having no credit as opposed to risking bad credit. Still, I've finally reached a point in my life where I am stable, so I guess this is just another one of those steps to growing up. Like a great man once said; "With great age comes shiny purple cell phones." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now the only thing is getting used to it. The last phone I got was when I was about 17, so I'm a little outdated. I'm having some troubles texting with the QWERTY keyboard and the touch screen is posing some challenges too. Not to mention the endless menu options and the features. There's actually specific buttons on the keypad for things like email, web browser, IM and everything. Even a ".com" button so I can be a really lazy bastard instead of typing it out! I've gotta say, this is the best $400 I've never spent! &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4866722922391803883?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4866722922391803883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4866722922391803883&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4866722922391803883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4866722922391803883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/modernizing.html' title='Modernizing.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1860545518181971697</id><published>2010-03-11T13:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T13:18:04.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick days.</title><content type='html'>I wish my work believed in them. There's a nasty flu going around and surprise, surprise, yours truly caught it like a bat to the face. &lt;i&gt;Hopefully&lt;/i&gt; if I vomit in the garbage can at the counter they'll send me home. Gross, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1860545518181971697?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1860545518181971697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1860545518181971697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1860545518181971697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1860545518181971697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/sick-days.html' title='Sick days.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8036656331684263654</id><published>2010-03-10T23:51:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T00:29:03.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the real deal.</title><content type='html'>Omgosh so many posts in one day! I haven't had much desire to be on the computer lately, so my mind is feeling a bit like a water balloon with a precarious amount of liquid in it. I'm bored and now feels like a great time to drain it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past couple weeks Josh and I haven't had any time together really. Ten minutes or so scattered around, never more than a "hey, I miss you" or "I love you, gotta run!" It's been pretty brutal, to be honest. There's been a couple nights where I've stayed up crying and waiting for him. But I know he still loves me, and I still love him. &amp;hearts; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love that we can go that long without much communication and nothing has really changed. I trust him, and I love him, that's all I need. Neither of us have been feeling the computer lately, we're both getting out alot. As much as I miss him, I understand, and I'm happy he's living his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, deep down inside I wish we could get more time together. Just a couple more months, and I'll have him all to myself. &amp;hearts; Then we can go out together! I've been going to alot of live theatre lately, and lots of big nights out with friends and coworkers. I'm really enjoying it, and I can't wait til I can bring him along with me. I know my friends are going to absolutely &lt;i&gt;adore&lt;/i&gt; him. It's impossible not to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8036656331684263654?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8036656331684263654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8036656331684263654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8036656331684263654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8036656331684263654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/real-deal.html' title='the real deal.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-5724092588086288955</id><published>2010-03-10T15:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T15:49:18.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roadside roses.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S5ggninvzkI/AAAAAAAAACI/PKHNHdPetdI/s1600-h/Photography+S2+237.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S5ggninvzkI/AAAAAAAAACI/PKHNHdPetdI/s320/Photography+S2+237.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447139612985118274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so not my best work, but I haven't posted any pictures in a while. I didn't really get a chance to get out and take any pictures over the winter, but I'm gonna get my butt down to the river valley tomorrow evening so I'll have some new photos to share. :]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-5724092588086288955?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/5724092588086288955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=5724092588086288955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/5724092588086288955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/5724092588086288955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/okay-so-not-my-best-work-but-i-havent.html' title='Roadside roses.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S5ggninvzkI/AAAAAAAAACI/PKHNHdPetdI/s72-c/Photography+S2+237.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6261370762642871263</id><published>2010-03-10T14:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:15:45.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Battle of the sexes.</title><content type='html'>So last week Will's BFF moved in with us. He had just broken up with his 3 year girlfriend so we offered him a place to stay for a while. Since he moved in I can't decide if I enjoy him, or if he's nothing but trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have fun when we hang out, but thats because all we ever do is drink and play House of The Dead Overkill for Wii. He does make himself useful by cleaning and helping out around the house. But he also causes enough trouble to make me wanna slap him. On Saturday night he got arrested and tossed in jail for public intoxication and assaulting an officer. I back up the first charge 100%, but the second one is total bullshit. He may have lipped off the cop a bit, but I doubt he did anything worth the beating he recieved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, now I am just feeling outed more and more. I used to really love taking care of the boys, but these days I'm just getting sick of it. Busting my ass to not even hear so much as a mumbled 'thanks'. If this is what being a mother is like, then I am gonna stick with cats forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And he has a cat. A great big fat black tabby that sneaks into my room and eats all of my cat's food and then lays his bulbous self all over my bed right in front of my poor teeny critters. Lobo and Purr Monster eventually get sick of it and start chasing him around. The boys see it and everyone starts bitching at me about how MY cats are the jerks. Well fuck you all too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I'll use the money I'm saving on rent since he moved in for a damage deposit on my own apartment. I love Schane and Will, but living with three boys was never really in my list of life goals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6261370762642871263?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6261370762642871263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6261370762642871263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6261370762642871263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6261370762642871263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/03/battle-of-sexes.html' title='Battle of the sexes.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4881164270732859700</id><published>2010-02-18T11:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T14:06:28.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>valentines day.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I know I'm a little late on this one, seeing as it's already passed. But oh my gosh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, I hate Valentine's Day. It's not one of those OH EM GEE STUPID EVERYONE AND THEIR BF/GF LAHDEEDAH kind of hates. I just don't appreciate the fact that everyone hops on board to show their love on one day instead of everyday. I get that it's romantic and all, but I still think it's silly. Maybe because it's never been a good day for me. My past 6 Valentine's days have included being cheated on, break ups, getting fired, my pet pigeon dying, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I was actually a little excited for it, because I was in what i &lt;strong&gt;thought&lt;/strong&gt; was a loving relationship. My boyfriends band was playing a show the night before, so like a good girlfriend I went to show my support. All night I watched him hitting on this little bimbo, until I finally got fed up and went home. At 8am, he stumbled in covered in lipstick. Fun times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year, I waved off all the hype, congratulated all my coupled friends, and made sure I was working. Luckily, I worked with someone I absolutely love. Then I went home and watched Law Abiding Citizen with my room mates and then went to bed. Aah, another 365 days til I'd have to deal with it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my room mate picked me up out front to go to the store, and on my way out I noticed a giant cardboard envelope sticking out of the mailbox. Addressed to me, saying "Do not open til the 14th of February". Eep! It was mailed from the UK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right ladies and gentlemen. My dear british boy sent me a card for Valentine's Day. Not just any card. A giant, custom made card. It's not only a fantastic and heart warming card, it's the &lt;em&gt;first&lt;/em&gt; thing anyone has ever given me on Valentine's Day. I've never been so excited about the mail before. I have probably thanked him about fifty times at least since I opened it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I'm feeling quite optimistic for next year. I spoke with my mother about going to England, and she told me to start saving so that I can tag along with her and my stepdad the next time they go. She also said if I choose to go earlier, or if I'm interested in moving there, that I've got family all over that I can stay with. I've already started looking for a second or possibly different job. I'm dying to wrap my arms around that boy and show him just how wonderful he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I'm sticking with the usual. Work, work, work, it's all for the cause.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4881164270732859700?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4881164270732859700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4881164270732859700&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4881164270732859700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4881164270732859700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day.html' title='valentines day.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4939824713107556351</id><published>2010-01-31T23:53:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:35:51.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bitter sweet.</title><content type='html'>So I've finally found the drive to do a little writing. I've been up to a fair bit so some updates are in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First things first, Binnie and I have agreed to just be friends. I'm glad, because I had sort of found someone new. It's &lt;s&gt;terrible&lt;/s&gt; pathetic that I carry on this way, I keep getting close to people so far away and it just turns into me crying about someone I've never actually met. But this one caught me by surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name is J, hopefully I haven't used that one before. Just in case, I'll call him JF. He's from Nottingham, England. It started back in the summer, I was at a mutual friends house, and she was talking to him on webcam. After that night, he would approach me frequently on DA. Most of the time he just teased me and had nothing real to say, so for the longest time I kind of brushed it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually he came to join the guild that I'm in, and we began to chat more. Gradually I realized that I was excited to get off work, to get home and talk to him. At first it had started off as casual conversation, which turned into playful banter, and eventually shameless flirting. Without any sign of warning, no heads up at all, I've fallen completely in love with a man I've never met.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4939824713107556351?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4939824713107556351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4939824713107556351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4939824713107556351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4939824713107556351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/bitter-sweet.html' title='bitter sweet.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2810592917819554619</id><published>2010-01-27T07:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T07:22:07.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>true blue.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S2BLe9oRwrI/AAAAAAAAACA/YcRShjwNKU8/s1600-h/choochoo!+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S2BLe9oRwrI/AAAAAAAAACA/YcRShjwNKU8/s320/choochoo!+074.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431424145920475826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New piercing, new hair! &lt;3 Luckily I've got a great pain tolerance, I was told it was going to hurt like hell, but I barely felt a pinch. Lovin' it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2810592917819554619?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2810592917819554619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2810592917819554619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2810592917819554619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2810592917819554619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/true-blue.html' title='true blue.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S2BLe9oRwrI/AAAAAAAAACA/YcRShjwNKU8/s72-c/choochoo!+074.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2651896582986589515</id><published>2010-01-27T07:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T07:15:38.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>procrastination nation.</title><content type='html'>I've been such a slacker lately, between him and work, I've barely had time to think of anything else. Aaagh! I can hardly even sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2651896582986589515?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2651896582986589515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2651896582986589515&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2651896582986589515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2651896582986589515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/procrastination-nation.html' title='procrastination nation.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2108013164145989715</id><published>2010-01-19T11:14:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T11:23:36.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bling bling.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so, sorry I've been a huge slacker lately and haven't written. There's been alot going on around here. Today is my only day off for a while besides Thursday. But my mother is going for surgery on Thursday, so I'll be spending it with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I'm going to try to cram what feels like 50 billion things into the next 8 hours. I'm going down to Whyte ave to go shopping with my friend N. We're getting piercings too! I'm getting my septum pierced,(Eek!)I'll post some pics later. After that we've got to come back to my house so I can dye her hair, and mine too if I have the time. After that I've got plans to meet up with my friend J because I haven't seen her in well over a month now. Then I've got plans with my friend S to have dinner and watch a movie. And after all of that, I still have to go to work to pull another dreaded inventory shift. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be a very loooong week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2108013164145989715?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2108013164145989715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2108013164145989715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2108013164145989715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2108013164145989715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/bling-bling.html' title='bling bling.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8596076513153021252</id><published>2010-01-14T17:18:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T17:32:26.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grow with the flow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0-0_j9kIXI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tWpw4AuMXSY/s1600-h/Photography+S2+261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0-0_j9kIXI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tWpw4AuMXSY/s320/Photography+S2+261.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426755080082956658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to stop trying to change things. I try to be something for people, and it means nothing, all it does it hurt me. I'm not just talking about changing who I am for another. I'm also talking about times where I've tried to help people and support them and they've taken it for granted or completely ignored it. So from now on, I am who I am, and though I'll always be here for the people who need me, I'm not giving so much of myself up for those who care nothing for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was taken in front of my house. I've always loved the way that plants and trees will grow around fences and things. When obstacles are presented, instead of trying to taking them down, they simply adapt. I need to start doing the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8596076513153021252?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8596076513153021252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8596076513153021252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8596076513153021252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8596076513153021252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/grow-with-flow.html' title='grow with the flow.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0-0_j9kIXI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tWpw4AuMXSY/s72-c/Photography+S2+261.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-9119199494289910693</id><published>2010-01-14T11:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T11:38:36.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh, mister sandman...</title><content type='html'>I've got to work in half an hour and I haven't slept a wink. Last night I had a stupid and confusing fight. But it was still enough to keep me up crying. I'm trying to be tough and brush it off, but I just want to curl up and disappear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure what I did to upset them so. Whatever it was, I'd really like to fix things. Still, I don't think it'll matter much. I'm so confused by him, it seems like somedays he really does like me and then others I'm just there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was my staff party, and Ri told me to dress up. I'm not one to get all dolled up often, so once I'd finished, I wanted to show him my outfit. He didn't care at all. In fact, all he did was complain about my hair color...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I just wasting time and hurting myself by holding on? It's really starting to feel that way...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-9119199494289910693?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/9119199494289910693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=9119199494289910693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/9119199494289910693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/9119199494289910693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/oh-mister-sandman.html' title='oh, mister sandman...'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-4350993801939552571</id><published>2010-01-09T15:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T15:24:26.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fairy tales.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0kAj6gtoWI/AAAAAAAAABw/hLmP-6qLMh4/s1600-h/Photography+S2+167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0kAj6gtoWI/AAAAAAAAABw/hLmP-6qLMh4/s320/Photography+S2+167.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424867843146359138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a little thing for negative effects. &amp;hearts; I really like the way that some of the petals have curled. They kind of remind me of the wheels on Cinderella's carriage. :]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-4350993801939552571?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/4350993801939552571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=4350993801939552571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4350993801939552571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/4350993801939552571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/fairy-tales.html' title='fairy tales.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/S0kAj6gtoWI/AAAAAAAAABw/hLmP-6qLMh4/s72-c/Photography+S2+167.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-3527577302442976013</id><published>2010-01-08T03:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T03:48:14.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sweet dreams.</title><content type='html'>I should be asleep right now. It's 3:36 am and I have to work today. But I am miles away, lost in thoughts of him. So I thought that maybe writing a little about him would help get him out of my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even describe how great I feel when I read the silly little texts that he sends me. Stupid things like his profile having my name in it make me blush. I wonder if he ever feels that way? His name is all over my stuff. I'm like a high school girl doodling in her books. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days we've been watching anime together (By "together" I mean we're using the "3,2,1,go!" approach with media player). He's showing me all these really great shows, and it's silly, but it makes me so happy that he's sharing these with me. But now I don't want to watch them without him! I'm really excited for him to go back home so that I can stay up all night with him again. As terrible as it sounds, I miss dodging the Sandman to hear his voice til sunrise. I hope one day soon I can spend the whole night in his arms. &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-3527577302442976013?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/3527577302442976013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=3527577302442976013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3527577302442976013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3527577302442976013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-dreams.html' title='sweet dreams.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2490382644922680567</id><published>2010-01-06T00:43:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T00:51:48.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>old school.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SfjEoFdI9Mg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SfjEoFdI9Mg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how many people will recognize or remember this video, but I wanted to share it anyways. When I was young it was played on tv alot, and I always loved it. So far only one other person has shared my excitement in finding this, kudos to my old friend JS for that. &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2490382644922680567?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2490382644922680567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2490382644922680567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2490382644922680567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2490382644922680567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/old-school.html' title='old school.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6225903826542643717</id><published>2010-01-02T20:14:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T20:47:34.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sun shine in a dark sky.</title><content type='html'>This week has been vicious. Tomorrow is Sunday, and it's his last night here. I'm terrified and relieved. I know it's going to hurt like hell to watch him leave again. But I also know it's going to be a huge weight off my chest. I don't know if I'll be able to see him off, but I'm sure it'll be better if I don't. He'll hate it, but I just need this to be over, for both our sakes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As frazzled as I've been this week, I've managed to keep it together. Work has been pretty interesting, with all the hustle and bustle of people waiting to resume their lives after the holidays, and me being insufferably cranky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my coworkers have been wonderful, since they all know the situation and understand my insanity. But our sales are through the roof with new customers(mostly people out to spend a dollar on some boxing day deals), and they are about as grouchy as myself. Unfortunately, we can't get away with screaming obscenities at them like they can with us. It's a damn shame too, because I'd really love to tell the asshole who yelled at D for answering the phone BEFORE he was even in line to take his screaming teeny boppers and his fucking Rob Pattison calendar and drive straight into a semi truck. But alas, instead I can only sit and listen to how incompetent we are, and how we shouldn't be allowed to work at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I'm home I'm putting all my energy into not snapping. It hurts to even know he's here. Being around him is ripping me apart, and I can't tell him. I can't explain how I feel or what I'm thinking, partly because I really don't know. I keep telling myself "just a few more days... almost there".  If it weren't for my friends, I really might explode and die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, no one can cheer me up like B can. I've barely been able to talk to him all week, and it's been driving me mad. He does text me though, and I'm able to catch him most days for a couple minutes on msn. I'm so excited for him to be back home, I'm so bored at night without him to come home and talk to. Nothing brightens my day as much as the cute messages he sends me, and now I blush everytime I check my phone to see his name on my screen. I can't wait for March! &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6225903826542643717?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6225903826542643717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6225903826542643717&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6225903826542643717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6225903826542643717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/sun-shine-in-dark-sky.html' title='sun shine in a dark sky.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1640983329559714646</id><published>2010-01-02T13:34:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T13:42:42.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pretty plain.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sz-vKc9EtRI/AAAAAAAAABo/4flFq6p4iQU/s1600-h/Photography+S2+191.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sz-vKc9EtRI/AAAAAAAAABo/4flFq6p4iQU/s320/Photography+S2+191.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422245070483272978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Kokeshi doll my friend gave me for my 19th birthday on my front step. I've done alot of pictures of it all over the place, it's my favorite subject! &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1640983329559714646?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1640983329559714646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1640983329559714646&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1640983329559714646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1640983329559714646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2010/01/kokeshi-doll-my-friend-gave-me-for-my.html' title='pretty plain.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sz-vKc9EtRI/AAAAAAAAABo/4flFq6p4iQU/s72-c/Photography+S2+191.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6845482342034858162</id><published>2009-12-30T17:37:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T18:03:43.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>silent screaming.</title><content type='html'>Today a cat died. Not just any cat, but one that my old room mate and I had adopted. Her name was Biggie, but we called her everything but. Mostly we called her Kitty. She was ridiculously fat, and sweet as anything. I'm crying for her today, but more than that, I am crying for my old room mate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name was C. The first time I met her, I felt that we were destined to be best friends. She was so brilliant and beautiful, and she made me feel so strong just by being around. I would see her frequently through mutual friends, and it was always so fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met her at a rough point in my life, I had been on and off the streets for about a year. Another room mate of mine had introduced us, and I started dating a friend of theirs. When he fucked me over and robbed our house, I moved out and was living out of an internet cafe downtown Toronto. I used to spend the night there when it was cold outside, it was $10 for an overnight pass, so it wasn't too hard to stay there. Then one night I made friends with this guy who lived in the back, and he offered to let me crash in the back room for free. I did this for a few months, until C expressed concern for me, and asked me to go live with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time with her was monumental. She did everything she could to nurture and support me, while still being my friend. At some points we'd fight, and eventually it did turn very sour. We were both feeling mistreated and I was young, stupid, and stubborn. I did take advantage of her, and I have never come to regret anything more than this. I love her so much still, and there isn't a day that passes where I don't think of her. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but we were nerds and we got tattoos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first tattoo, a Captain Hook-esque mustache on my left middle finger. It was also my first date with Nathan. C and him are close friends. It was his birthday, and the three of us went out and got mustache tattoos. C and I got matching ones, he got the Burt Reynolds. My second tattoo, half of a heart on my right foot. 5 points to whoever can guess who's foot has the other half. My heart hurts when I see them. Since I lost her I've done all I can to pretend they're not there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a little over a year since the last time we spoke. I had come home for a funeral, and I had left on bad terms. When I got back I went to Nathans house first. A few days later I'd fallen sick and was in the hospital. They told me I was pregnant. The last words she told me were about a week after that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thought about contacting her many times in the past year. I think I actually tried once but I never got a reply. I miss her so much. I sent her a message today, sending my condolences. I'm writing a letter for Nathan to give to her when he gets back. I'd give nearly anything to talk to her again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6845482342034858162?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6845482342034858162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6845482342034858162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6845482342034858162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6845482342034858162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/silent-screaming.html' title='silent screaming.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6796329516049044430</id><published>2009-12-29T15:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T15:35:52.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>deep breaths.</title><content type='html'>He's here, sitting on my bed right in front of me. I'm so torn. Part of me wants to put down my laptop and wrap my arms around him. Another part wants to use my laptop to beat his face in. It's terribly complicated, and insanely frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we talked about Lobo. He told me that she seems happy here and he was unsure about seperating her and Purr Monster. He asked me if I would keep her, when I said yes, he told me he would think about it, and we'd discuss it later in the week. Then a few hours later, he told me that his friend wanted to give him a puppy. I know the friend and her dog very well, and there is no way I could let him not get one of her puppies. And this way Lobo is mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still a little mixed up over it though. I'm thrilled to keep her, my heart was breaking over the thought of her being taken from me. I've considered her to be my cat for a long time now. But I'm also a little ticked at him for giving her up so easily. I'm not sure why, because I understand that it's best for everyone, I guess I'm just mad that giving up his cat is even an option. It's not like he has to, he just wants to so he can get a different one. I find it terrible, especially after how much he babied her. He always talked about her being his "punk rock kitty" and how it would forever be the two of them through everything. But Lobo doesn't care. She cried for a few days after he left, but then she got over it. Now I don't think she even knows who he is. She might remember by the end of the week, but I'm sure she'll forget him again. I wish it could be so easy for me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6796329516049044430?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6796329516049044430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6796329516049044430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6796329516049044430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6796329516049044430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/deep-breaths.html' title='deep breaths.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2217119825545712711</id><published>2009-12-27T23:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T13:21:07.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nature lover.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzhX0ot0_3I/AAAAAAAAABg/mc6OtWUGKrg/s1600-h/Photography+S2+242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzhX0ot0_3I/AAAAAAAAABg/mc6OtWUGKrg/s320/Photography+S2+242.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420178713334841202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another snap from the river valley. &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2217119825545712711?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2217119825545712711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2217119825545712711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2217119825545712711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2217119825545712711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-snap-from-river-valley.html' title='nature lover.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzhX0ot0_3I/AAAAAAAAABg/mc6OtWUGKrg/s72-c/Photography+S2+242.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-8139895527966918873</id><published>2009-12-27T23:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:57:03.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some dance to forget...</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow Nathan is coming. I've cleaned my room inside and out, and I have everything ready, and now all I want to do is run and hide somewhere. The other day he asked me for money to bring Lobo back to Toronto with him. I wanted to punch him through the phone and tell him to suck a fat one. As if I'm going to give him money to take the cat farther away from her home where she is loved and taken care of when he can't even send me $20 to pitch in on cat supplies. I'm still unbelievably angry that he even asked me though. The nerve of some people is frightening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less aggravating news, my Christmas was wonderful. I worked all day on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but I spent Christmas Eve at my dads house with my grandparents and my brother. Then on Christmas Day my room mate Schane and I went out to my moms for dinner. It was incredible to be home this year, I can't even really explain the feeling. I'm sure that even if I had still been planning to go back to Toronto, that this would have changed my mind into staying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough, as attached as I am to this city, I'm finding myself thinking more and more about giving it up to go see Binnie. I'm sure I never will though. Anytime that I mention it he seems very put off by it. It's a little weird, and it always makes me curious as to why, but I try not to push it. I just sort of sit back and hope he'll be more open with me one day. In the mean time I'm going to just suck it up and keep hanging on. I'm a modern age Sandra Dee; hopelessly devoted to a boy i barely know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-8139895527966918873?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/8139895527966918873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=8139895527966918873&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8139895527966918873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/8139895527966918873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/some-dance-to-forget.html' title='some dance to forget...'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6314706938891412933</id><published>2009-12-24T02:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T02:15:44.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lazy days.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzMwP3cQb0I/AAAAAAAAABY/TK-DVabsIc4/s1600-h/Photography+S2+263.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzMwP3cQb0I/AAAAAAAAABY/TK-DVabsIc4/s320/Photography+S2+263.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418727825795477314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my baby, Purr Monster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6314706938891412933?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6314706938891412933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6314706938891412933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6314706938891412933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6314706938891412933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/lazy-days.html' title='lazy days.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SzMwP3cQb0I/AAAAAAAAABY/TK-DVabsIc4/s72-c/Photography+S2+263.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6688235508346534781</id><published>2009-12-21T01:57:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T02:11:05.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>must see.</title><content type='html'>I've had a ridiculously busy weekend between work, christmas shopping, babysitting, and just going out. on friday i did most of my shopping, and afterwards i met up with my room mates for dinner and drinks, and then we went to see Avatar at the imax 3D in west edmonton mall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went in with low expectations, and didn't really have any ideas as to what it was about. i only agreed because it's a james cameron movie, and it was in 3D. but within about 20 minutes, i was in love with it. i watch about 40+ movies in a month, and it takes alot to impress me. but this is without a doubt the greatest movie i've seen in years. everything about it was just wonderful. the story and the characters were so well thought out, it was very well scripted and well performed. it was funny in some parts, heart wrenching at others. there was action, love, betrayal, explosions, flying beasts and a beautiful setting. the graphics were stunning to the point where i completely forgot i was watching any kind of animation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after seeing it on friday, i decided to take the kids i babysit for to see it tonight. i was extremely impressed that they made it through the whole 2 hours and 42 minutes. i'm planning on rallying up more people to go see it with this week. i have never enjoyed a movie so much. i'm really hoping that the dvd release includes a 3D option as well, though i'm sure it wont be any less breathtaking in 2D. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, to my friends and my 1 follower, i implore you, go see this movie. i'm sure you wont regret it. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6688235508346534781?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6688235508346534781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6688235508346534781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6688235508346534781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6688235508346534781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/must-see.html' title='must see.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-7727102399182031307</id><published>2009-12-18T03:06:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T03:29:47.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so flow river, flow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SytVLmGsygI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fzuTLERKEoY/s1600-h/Photography+S2+208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SytVLmGsygI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fzuTLERKEoY/s320/Photography+S2+208.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416516634538723842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dad bought me my new camera for my birthday this year, which is september first. i took this one about mid september, i decided to go play around with it in the river valley near my house before work one day. i kinda wish i had managed to find a nice spot where you couldn't see the industrial parks in the background, but i still like this one alot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-7727102399182031307?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/7727102399182031307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=7727102399182031307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7727102399182031307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7727102399182031307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-flow-river-flow.html' title='so flow river, flow.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SytVLmGsygI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fzuTLERKEoY/s72-c/Photography+S2+208.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2946845778492683037</id><published>2009-12-17T15:52:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T17:52:16.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>technical difficulties.</title><content type='html'>as of late, all of my electronics have been giving me trouble. it's not really surprising, considering most of them are 2nd hand, but it is extremely irritating. it's getting to the point now where i really do need to go out and replace everything. here is a brief list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. this crumby laptop. (affectionately referred to as my "craptop". considering i bought off a man in an Toronto back alley for $50, it's served me fairly well.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. my portable dvd player. (i found it in my mothers basement. when i asked who's it was, my brother said it was his but it was broken. when i managed to fix it, he said i could have it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. my ps2. it's so old that it's gone and forgotten how to read. :[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. my tv. it's actually not mine, it's my room mates. MY tv is in my his possession. when my ex was still living here, my room mate let us borrow his tv so we could hang out in our room and have some entertainment. when i finally managed to get MY tv from my mothers house, i left it in the living room until someone could help me switch them because tv's are heavy and i'm a wuss. instead of anyone helping me, Roxas just took my tv and refused to give it back because it's nicer. Our friend Suderman took magnets to the screen of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. my cell phone. i used to have a really nice samsung phone. actually, i still do. but i'm currently using the pink motorola razor i got when i was 16. there is nothing more welcoming than coming home to seeing your cat chewed on your phone charger while it was still plugged in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(okay, so, it's not such a brief list, but i have this OCD for backstories. it all started when i was a little girl and my mom used..... just kidding!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, all of these are really not such big problems. well except maybe the laptop. but i'm currently working out a budget, and if i manage to follow it, then it should be all systems go to buy one after christmas. as for the ps2, i really only used it as a dvd player anyways, so i can kill two birds with one stone and buy a new dvd player at Zellers for roughly $20. i'm actually thinking i might go do that tomorrow since i have the day off and i get paid. then again i should probably save my money for christmas presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm terrible at shopping, i hate malls, i hate stores. christmas is a bad time of year for me because it means i have to go shopping. and i'm not the kind of person who makes lists of what to get people. when i'm buying something for someone i go to their favorite stores and a stumble around until i find something that suits them, or that they've mentioned before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year very few people are on my list. i've already purchased my friend Jessica's present. it's a New Moon canvas bag, with Edward on one side, Jacob on the other. She saw it in my store once and fell in love with it, so i figured i had to.  cheap as it may sound, i'm getting alot of people movies. but i've been on the lookout for older ones i know they love and would like to have on dvd, or box sets i know they'll like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i am getting one completely original gift. Rianna has been a great friend to me, and a fantastic boss. she is also a diehard Twilight fan, and totally team Edward. so when i was cruising a handmade convention page on facebook and came across this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs188.snc1/6300_118671421893_726621893_2923383_3612404_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 467px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs188.snc1/6300_118671421893_726621893_2923383_3612404_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wasn't able to make it to the convention, i had to work all during the weekend it was happening. but i decided i really needed to get her one. so i managed to contact the artist, and have been talking to her via email. so for $75 i am getting Rianna a portrait of her and Edward Cullen. She should be done within the next couple of days, and i am very excited to see it and gift it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.artistsites.org/KaytlyneDewald/"&gt;www.artistsites.org/KaytlyneDewald&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the artist's website, if anyone out there is interested. she has a few other amazing celebrity portraits, as well as customs by request, and some originals. personally, i'm in love with "Lounge Singer".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2946845778492683037?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2946845778492683037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2946845778492683037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2946845778492683037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2946845778492683037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/technical-difficulties.html' title='technical difficulties.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1765136552038597559</id><published>2009-12-16T20:56:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:20:10.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>simple pleasures.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SymsQsG6CXI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZdEEVm0vygI/s1600-h/kitties+and+junk+100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SymsQsG6CXI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZdEEVm0vygI/s320/kitties+and+junk+100.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416049429607745906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my friends kitten. i was actually going to adopt her, but i thought if i brought home another cat my room mates would have a conniption.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1765136552038597559?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1765136552038597559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1765136552038597559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1765136552038597559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1765136552038597559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-is-my-friends-kitten.html' title='simple pleasures.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SymsQsG6CXI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZdEEVm0vygI/s72-c/kitties+and+junk+100.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-7568791401296551718</id><published>2009-12-16T18:04:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T19:52:58.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>brain drain.</title><content type='html'>ugh.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;our inventory was terrible last night. we're missing about 27 X-box 360 games, which is obscene. it's also confusing because we lock the cases for all our rentals, and games are put into an extra locking case with a sensor. so how 27 of them managed to get out the door without any one being like "oh hey, the alarm is going off, maybe i should do my job and stop them" is beyond me. so basically, either my coworkers are idiots, or one of them is hiding games in random places. or stealing. i reeeeeeeally hope no one is stealing. we're all friends and we're a pretty stellar team, it would break my heart a little to know i couldn't trust one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i gotta say, it was a pretty horrific night. we were then until nearly 7am because we had to spent 3 hours on the phone with tech support at the beginning of the night. when i got in our computer systems were down. okay, i lied, Camlice spent 3 hours on the phone, while rianna and myself dicked around singing "the system is down!" we're so helpful. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O4gqsuww6lw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O4gqsuww6lw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while Camlice did her thing, we got out of her way by going out for a smoke. being the wonderfully talented girl that i am, i managed to slam my finger in the big metal door. ouch. so i spent roughly 7 hours scanning barcodes with a mangled and sore finger. today it's an odd shade of purple, slightly swollen, fairly crooked, and extremely painful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so after that lovely experience, i'm obviously dreading having to do inventory counts again. unfortunately for me, i have to go to Camlice's store and help her do it on thursday night. yippee! *bangs head on wall*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but as terrible as my night was, when i got home binnie was on msn. despite his infuriatingly coy behavior, i completely adore him. i wish we lived closer, or at least not on opposite ends of the continent. but i would still do everything in my power to make it work if he'd give me a chance. sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could turn my feelings off, just for a little while. maybe it would be less frustrating to feel nothing. but i think that would be selfish. i'm sure it would be frustrating for those around me to be shunned by my heartlessness. still, it would be interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, enough venting for now. purr monster is trying to lay on my laptop, which means it's time for me to give him some snuggles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-7568791401296551718?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/7568791401296551718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=7568791401296551718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7568791401296551718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7568791401296551718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/ugh.html' title='brain drain.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-6336659412334649470</id><published>2009-12-15T18:53:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T19:14:49.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tick tock.</title><content type='html'>okay, so, i'm already addicted to blogging.(obviously) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's 5 minutes to 7pm, so i've got time to kill. in all fairness, i should really be sleeping. my day was anything but restful. i was woken up by my room mate S because our other room mate W left the front door wide open on his way to work. so S and myself went scrambling about in search of my cats, because it's -40 degrees celsius out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to be honest, i don't let them out in the warmer months either. lobo is not fixed and i don't want her to come home pregnant, and purr monster is just... well i let him outside once and he sat under my room mates car licking his tires. darwin's law would be laid down hard.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually we found the cats hiding under the couch in my bedroom. hurray for running through the snow barefoot and in pyjamas! :] round two! sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've decided that i'm never agreeing to do inventory count again. i haven't even started yet and i'm pooped. trying to rearrange my sleep schedule is alot harder than i thought. i figured it wouldn't be a problem since i usually go to bed at 5am and wake up around noon. wouldn't be the first time i was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, the ex called me again today. i am pleased to inform you that i showed no mercy. he asked me if i had been seeing anyone; i told him it was none of his business. then he said he just wanted to know if he'd still have a girlfriend when he got here; i told him that i didn't know he had one now. the rest of the conversation was brief, thankfully he let me go back to sleep or it would have gone very badly. cranky brittanys aren't much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so i am giving myself a giant pat on the back. it's not every day that i find the courage to tell someone to politely fuck off. &lt;b&gt;sigh of relief&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-6336659412334649470?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/6336659412334649470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=6336659412334649470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6336659412334649470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/6336659412334649470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/tick-tock.html' title='tick tock.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-1382007995988044236</id><published>2009-12-15T13:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T13:23:15.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back to basics.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyfvNlaxHOI/AAAAAAAAABA/parRI8a9Mrc/s1600-h/Photography+S2+244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyfvNlaxHOI/AAAAAAAAABA/parRI8a9Mrc/s320/Photography+S2+244.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415560093598031074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a path in the river valley that i particularly enjoy. it gradually becomes smaller and less constructed as you follow it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-1382007995988044236?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/1382007995988044236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=1382007995988044236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1382007995988044236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/1382007995988044236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/back-to-basics.html' title='back to basics.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyfvNlaxHOI/AAAAAAAAABA/parRI8a9Mrc/s72-c/Photography+S2+244.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2540282826177470081</id><published>2009-12-15T09:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T19:50:55.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>infinitree.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sye5F8fU1jI/AAAAAAAAAA4/B7bKFqpiLLU/s1600-h/Photography+S2+126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sye5F8fU1jI/AAAAAAAAAA4/B7bKFqpiLLU/s320/Photography+S2+126.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415500588724311602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a tree near my house. i love it because the branches overlap and it looks like its forming a sideways infinity sign!(also known as a figure 8 x]) &amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2540282826177470081?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2540282826177470081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2540282826177470081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2540282826177470081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2540282826177470081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/tree-near-my-house.html' title='infinitree.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/Sye5F8fU1jI/AAAAAAAAAA4/B7bKFqpiLLU/s72-c/Photography+S2+126.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-9122809976547040031</id><published>2009-12-15T09:04:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T09:24:55.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>satisfaction.</title><content type='html'>9am, and i'm finally almost ready for bed. my goals this past night were simple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. stay up all night so i can sleep &lt;br /&gt;    all day in preparation for inventory &lt;br /&gt;    at work  tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 2. figure out this html crap&lt;br /&gt;    (at least enough to be happy &lt;br /&gt;    with this page).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am pleased to say, i have accomplished both of these. and thanks to all the caffeine i pumped into me to stay awake, i'm not even really tired. as for the html, i'd like to think i'm getting better. let's just hope this blog doesn't end up like my hair and turn into a target of constant makeovers! i've recently decided that i don't want to study hair design any more. i still wanna cut&amp;color, but not as a living. maybe just for friends and family, as something fun to do, not a career. so i'm setting out to find a new destiny! i'm thinking graphic design? i'm not sure. right now i don't even really care what it is, i just want to go back to school. i always get the most disgusting feeling when my friends can't hang out cos they're all in college and university. trouble is, i can't afford to not work. i think i might just curl up in a ball with my kitties and come back to civilization when times aren't so hard. maybe hibernate for a while. i wonder if bertie can find me an alarm clock that will know when things have gotten better, and maybe pour some ice water on me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-9122809976547040031?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/9122809976547040031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=9122809976547040031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/9122809976547040031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/9122809976547040031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/satisfaction.html' title='satisfaction.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-7036129608968623885</id><published>2009-12-14T23:23:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T19:50:33.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>storm warnings.</title><content type='html'>Today my ex boyfriend called me to tell me that he was coming back at the end of the month. We're not getting back together or anything, I think he's mostly just coming back to get his cat and see if there's any chance at us getting back together. To be clear, I do not want him to take his cat(for many reasons which I may explain later), and I do not want to get back together with him. When I was 18 we met, and when I was 19, we fell in love. Things were wonderful, but then I got pregnant, and in my panic demanded that we go back to my hometown. All my panicking caught up with me I guess. I lost the baby. After that our relationship fell to pieces. We spent months trying to piece it back together, but to no avail. So in October, he moved back to the city where we fell in love, leaving me to take care of his cat. Don't get me wrong, I adore the cat, and it's going to break my heart to see her go, but the fact that he dumped her on me makes me insanely mad. There's a huge part of me that wants to tell him she ran away and hide her at my moms house when he comes. It's a terrible thing to do, but I really am considering it. When he called me this morning, he was so excited, he told me I was beautiful and that he couldn't wait to see me and the cat. I tried my hardest to sound impartial. Truth is I'm devastated. When he left, we were actually starting to get things back on track. But his mom had already bought his ticket. (Yes. His mother. I wish my mom would shell out $800 for me to run away from my problems!) I spent weeks pining for him, being pathetic and thinking he'd come back. But in his absence, I had more time to spend with my friends, and the other people around me. Slowly but surely, I was getting over him. And now, though I still love him, I don't want to be with him. I am desperately hoping that his trip goes as smooth as possible. He'll be here for a whole week, and he is planning to stay here. I don't know how to tell him he can't, so I'm gonna try talking to my dad to see if maybe I can crash at his house. The bitch thing is, he didn't really ask me if he could stay or make any plans with me as to how long he'd be here. Mind you if he had, my answer would have probably been no. So, I'm really crossing my fingers that 2 weeks is enough time for me to grow the backbone to tell him to get the hell out of my life so we can both move on. It sounds cruel, but this isn't making us happy, and I'm tired of hanging on to something i felt over a year and a half ago. I really hope he at least tries to understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-7036129608968623885?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/7036129608968623885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=7036129608968623885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7036129608968623885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/7036129608968623885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/storm-warnings.html' title='storm warnings.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-2511238032547743209</id><published>2009-12-14T01:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T09:45:49.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lost love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXyncjmo1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/AfSGXA3Tt-w/s1600-h/Photography+S2+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXyncjmo1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/AfSGXA3Tt-w/s320/Photography+S2+048.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415000886477235026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found this poor little bear laying there on my way through the back alleys one day. i'm not sure if it was lost or abandoned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-2511238032547743209?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/2511238032547743209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=2511238032547743209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2511238032547743209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/2511238032547743209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/lost-love.html' title='lost love.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXyncjmo1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/AfSGXA3Tt-w/s72-c/Photography+S2+048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5018108940684094351.post-3924990489637173775</id><published>2009-12-14T00:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T19:50:23.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>baby steps.</title><content type='html'>a friend told me i should start a blog. i figure it'll be nice to post my photography, without my friends asking me for prints and if they can model for me. so i went about setting this puppy up. i gotta say that for someone as technologically challenged as myself, this is much harder than it looks. i've been trying for about 40 minutes now just to get the skin thingy to work. i've decided to take a small break to take my mind off the frustration, but it's passed now so i'm going to try again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5018108940684094351-3924990489637173775?l=dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/feeds/3924990489637173775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5018108940684094351&amp;postID=3924990489637173775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3924990489637173775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5018108940684094351/posts/default/3924990489637173775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancinginthedaylight.blogspot.com/2009/12/baby-steps.html' title='baby steps.'/><author><name>lalovely</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10649085058336565208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IYOGYtzndEc/SyXt-oLmwEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GVwCKVGnXTE/S220/Photography+S2+191.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
