<?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-1951127162325407316</id><updated>2011-12-03T01:46:42.927-08:00</updated><category term='Sexy Talk'/><category term='Favorite Things'/><category term='Fly Shit'/><category term='Party Planning'/><category term='Step Your Game Up'/><category term='Ranting and Raving'/><category term='Favorite Song at the Moment'/><title type='text'>Zero Gravity</title><subtitle type='html'>Flyness without Effort</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>213</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4231816553282081068</id><published>2011-05-18T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T15:25:46.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustrated</title><content type='html'>I can literally feel myself getting to the point of going the fuck off. I've been taking care of a lot of shit in my life and I am greatly satisfied with how things are coming together. Nothing is set in stone right now, but I have options. I do not feel stuck anymore at all. If anything I am so ready to break free of the bullshit and move on that hopefully my anxiousness doesn't make me jump the gun on anything. I'm still trying to be patient and just see what option will be best for me, in the short and long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the one thing that I am still dealing with is Him. I just don't even know where to begin. I get mad whenever I talk to him. I don't even really know why. Well I take that back, I know exactly why I get mad, I just don't know why I bother getting mad. That sounds better. I am really getting to the point where Imma just be over it all if something doesn't change soon. Something that lets me know we are moving towards being with each other. But he just not in the mind frame for that. His mind frame is too wrapped into his reality that he has to deal with and he is losing sight of what he really wants. Everything is all about keeping what he has going on together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He trying but fuck that. And what really pisses me off is he acts like he taking this big fucking risk like I have never done anything for him. Everything that happened with him was my worst fear. Shit like what happened is one of the major reasons why I never really wanted to fall in love with somebody. But thats not shit to him though because I didn't lose any money. I just lost my ability to fall in love and really trust somebody ever again. Well i'm exaggerating, but shit he don't know that. That shit really could have fucked me up. And if it wasn't for me talking to his ex and seeing how fucked up she was, I would be down a totally different path right now. Luckily I'm used to not allowing shit to fuck me up for too long, and I can deal with shit and eventually regain my own happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I JUST got back to the point where I feel like my old self again. I won't say that he necessarily started the downward spiral but he damn sure&amp;nbsp;catapulted&amp;nbsp;me to what I think was one of my lowest moments ever. I didn't know if I was gonna ever recover from that shit. How do you accept KNOWING that someone would rather be with you but because he had a child, he feels like he should be with his babymama for his child's sake? I see the logic in that but to me everything does not have to make sense in the mind. And it should be a balance between your heart and mind. Because just following one or the other could lead you to some fucked up places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I really want him to do is recognize all the shit that I have done FOR HIM. Because I can tell in his mind, he doesn't see where I have done anything for him. Because its not in terms of money or anything that you can physically see. But just how I handled and carried myself in the situation made a lot of difference in how things are playing out today. The things that I could have done and said and been RIGHTFULLY SO would have fucked up a lot of shit for him and his relationship with his son. I recognized that and avoided it&amp;nbsp;despite&amp;nbsp;being disrespected and played as this homewrecker who was trying to fuck up a family. I HAD SO MUCH SHIT THAT I COULD HAVE SAID and it was all truth so there was no way that he would be able to deny it and she would believe me over him anyway. I didn't have to make up lies to make her feel bad like she tried to do with me. I could have crushed her spirit with the truth, but I chose not to because it was not my place to say anything. I cleared my name in the situation because I am not a homewrecker, but as far as telling truths that didn't affect me, I kept all that to myself. He asked me to chill out when things were really crazy and I did. I don't get any credit &amp;nbsp;for that though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he think my mom likes him and there's no doubt in my mind that she doesn't. However, the only reason she still likes him after everything was because of me. She definitely wanted to hate him because she knew how much I liked him and she liked the fact that he made me so happy. So of course, she was ready to say fuck him once i told her what happened, but I made him look like a fucking saint to her compared to how he really made me feel. The only reason any of my friends or family haven't been talking cold shit about his ass is because of me. I didn't allow them to do it. I shut it down as soon as they tried to start. They didn't know him like I did and I didn't want them forming opinions about him based off stuff I said and how I was feeling at the moment. Once again, I looked out for him despite how stupid I had to sound for taking up for somebody that just fucking ripped my heart out and stomped on the motherfucker. But I don't get any credit for that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get any credit for trying to be understanding about what he was going through and the decisions he had to make concerning everything. I even placed a lot of the blame on myself for a while, and I could have handled things differently but in that moment, i thought what i was doing was the right thing to do. And in a sense I was. I was threatening to stop fucking with him all the time because I was hoping he wouldn't let it happen. I was hoping that he would see that I wasn't playing and he would fix the situation. But he didn't. All he saw was me saying I would leave him, and that probably was not the best thing to be showing him at that time. I recognize that now, but even still, he should have seen it as more than that. He should have known that I didn't want to stop talking to him, but I had to. He was making me feel stupid. I don't give a fuck what somebody else think, but &amp;nbsp;I can't sit around and be involved in dumb shit regardless of how much I care. I always care about me more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I'm stuck with nowadays is trying to prove and explain myself because of all the assumptions he wants to make about me and the things that I do towards him when he should KNOW that I have looked out for him from day one. When I would go grocery shopping, I went shopping for both of us. It was no coincidence that I always had shit he liked. For holidays, I made sure I bought him something. I noticed how he had all these cute boxers with sayings and shit, so whenever I would go in stores, I would always go look and see if they had any good ones. Or how I always made it my business to make sure I fucked him very well. Lets not even talk about all the shit that he NEVER got to see for Valentines day and the breakfast I made with heart pancakes and all that shit that I had to just throw away. Or the time I went to go see him and I had $20 to my name for the week until I got paid, and I spent $15 of that on a cab to his house. Or how I got Jennifer to take me around to places where I knew he would be and I made these cute Have you seen my snuggie signs just because I wanted him to know I still cared about him, but I still wanted to respect that we decided to stop talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to top that all off, I have NEVER asked him for anything. Well I do remember asking him for some money one time but that was only because I really needed it, but of course, he couldn't give it to me. But that was it. I know for a fact that it is not one thing on this earth that I have come out of my mouth and asked him for. Even with everything not once have I ever told him to leave her or be disrespectful or play her in anyway. I'm sure its easy to tell that I want him to leave her but I never ever asked him to carry her for me. Thats the type of shit she wanted him to do towards me. And another thing thats fucked up is he actually would do it. Like just tell me whatever to make her happy. Just fuck my feelings huh? I don't know why I even get mad anymore. She been working on getting him to carry me for a while. I should be used to it by now. It's so bad now that he carry me all the time and don't even realize it. In whose mind does it make sense for you to call me and ask me about having a threesome with you and a bitch that YOU KNOW I feel some type of way about. And then wonder why I got mad about it. But what really &amp;nbsp;pissed me off is that he told me HE KNEW I would get mad about it but he asked me anyway because she kept bothering him to do it. I hope the bitch don't ever ask him to kill me or some shit like that. I don't know how far he willing to take it, but if we going off his track record, I'm as good as dead. But I kinda went off an a tangent there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to what I was saying...I've always been cool about shit. I didn't start tripping about shit until he started acting stupid. I kept my mouth shut about ALOT of stuff because I would always tell myself he can do whatever he want because he not your boyfriend. I always from day one whenever he called me I would stop whatever I was doing and find a way to get to him. If I didn't give a fuck, I could have easily been like I'm busy. Or I'm not driving right now. I made myself available. When he was coming to my house every weekend without me even asking, I missed a bunch bday parties, thanksgiving and christmas' with my family FOR HIM. Anybody who knows me knows that I am family first so for me to miss thanksgiving and christmas for a nigga, thats serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think thats what hurts me the most now. Throughout everything I never once was on some I dont give a fuck shit. If anything, I cared way too fucking much. I still think I care too much even though I've let a lot of shit go when it comes to the situation, but its still shit that pisses me off because even though I know his intentions are not bad, everything he does towards me comes across like I don't give a fuck about Megan until my dick get hard. We used to talk all the time about everything. He probably knows more about me than a lot of my friends do. I treated him like family. And by family, I mean I inconvenienced myself a lot for his sake. I thought about him before I thought about myself. I let my family do that because I really care and I like to think that if I ever need them, they got me. I guess with my family track record, I really shouldn't be surprised. They definitely didn't help me when I needed it. So the shit hurts my feelings that he only calls me when he can fuck. That's the only time he will make an effort to see me. Not just to see how I'm doing. Or to just chill. But to fuck. Thats the main goal. And then he wanna know why I tell him shit like well if you just wanna fuck somebody, find you a bitch close that you can fuck. You don't need me. If its just pussy you want, then you live with a pussy you can have anytime. Fuck her. I'm sure its bitches around where you live that would give you some ass. Fuck them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it confuses the fuck out of me when he says shit like I can't stop talking to you. Wait what? Ummm we don't talk. So I can't tell. It seems like you have no problem not talking to me. He doesn't ever just call me to talk. If I get a message from him I already know he must have a window of opportunity to come fuck me. So maybe he can't stop wanting to fuck me. That would make more sense to me. Because that matches up with his actions and the things that I can tell from observation. He says he don't just be talking good shit, but he never acts on it, so either way, its just words until he starts acting on them.&amp;nbsp;It just hurts because I actually really fucking care despite all the bullshit and at the end of the day I really appreciate all the time we spent, and him bringing me pads, and cooking me thanksgiving dinner, and calling me everyday to talk and making an effort to come see me on the weekends so im not in the house alone. I was feeling real fucked up about how my family was treating me and he really helped me deal with all that. And im sure he doesn't even know it. He was the only person that I could depend on and that I fucked with up here. It was just the fact that he was there. And I miss having somebody looking out for me and my best interests. Somebody I can trust and be myself with. And I am not sure if he will ever realize how much I mean everything I say to him. Cause if I didn't really love him and give a fuck, I would have been done WAY before a child ever came into the picture. Hopefully something will get through to him one day. *sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4231816553282081068?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4231816553282081068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4231816553282081068' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4231816553282081068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4231816553282081068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/05/frustrated.html' title='Frustrated'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8030327978027516885</id><published>2011-04-13T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T14:33:13.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Posts in One Day. I predict snow tomorrow.</title><content type='html'>Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crack myself up. Today started off very slow, but it seems like it may end kinda promising. I'm going to go cook some more tonight. Thinking about starting a cupcake business. I have so many great ideas. I need some investors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta-Ta For Now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8030327978027516885?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8030327978027516885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8030327978027516885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8030327978027516885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8030327978027516885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/04/two-posts-in-one-day-i-predict-snow.html' title='Two Posts in One Day. I predict snow tomorrow.'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5799596338041203029</id><published>2011-04-13T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T11:12:10.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Progression</title><content type='html'>Thats always a good thing. I have decided that LOVE is going to be the motivation. I have a very huge list of things that I would LOVE to do or experience in life. I am in the process of trying to sort things out so that I can start accomplishing this long list of things I want to do and experience. From all different types of standpoints; career, love, traveling, family and so forth. I am not concerned with trying to be this larger than life person who makes this great big difference in the world. I'm more concerned with doing something that I love, and I guess if thats what happens as a result of it, then I'll take that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be me, and have fun and experience life. I want to enjoy life first, and do and be with those things that will allow me to do that. &amp;nbsp;That is the main goal. Good times and stories to tell the grandkids is very important to me. I want to live the life that I have imagined. I want to be the person that God intended me to be. I am working hard on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing the "right" thing is very hard when everyone around you is doing the "wrong" thing and getting the results that you would damn near die to have. And what makes it even harder to bare is knowing that people work so hard to get what they say they want, and then won't even enjoy it. Or people who know there is something better for them, but won't do what they need to do to get it. Its very frustrating and defeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to not be so concerned with what everyone else is out here doing. I can only control myself. And everything just is what it is. I keep telling myself I need to just do me, but its hard when I'd rather do him. Thats kind of on a whole different subject, but that is a lot of my problem now. Him. Boy if I had one of those MIB flashy things I would have definitely used it by now. I am trying to remain open minded, but its hard when I know EXACTLY what I want, but I can't have it because its not my decision to make. And I don't necessarily want to influence the decision by doing anything, I want minds to be made up on their own. To me that is the better outcome because that way no one can say that I had anything to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I'm just rambling, I just want things to come to an end now. I feel it all coming to some type of conclusion soon, and I like to hope that I have proven myself enough, but you never know what someone else is thinking. I've given it to God and as of lately, I see a little promise for the future, but again, nothing definitive that I can say with absolute certainty, so therefore, I try to pay it no mind. I like to base my decisions on truth and fact, not what people think or opinions or even what they say or do. I would need a clear cut sign that this is the desired outcome before I can proceed with Him any further. I'm not asking to be married tomorrow, I just want some type of&amp;nbsp;commitment. Something letting me know that he is serious this time, and not just saying shit cause it sound nice. Cause I can tell thats the type of shit he on, and thats not where I feel he need to be if he gone ever do what he know he need to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress, "Whoever said progress was a slow process wasn't talking about me..." I pay attention to shit and I feel like the universe is gonna make sure I find out everything I need to know for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the Motivation. Progression is the Desired Result. Enjoying Life is the Main Goal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5799596338041203029?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5799596338041203029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5799596338041203029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5799596338041203029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5799596338041203029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/04/progression.html' title='Progression'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7818100326390406371</id><published>2011-03-30T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T13:36:58.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Threesome...yes AGAIN! smh.</title><content type='html'>I must have the look and personality of somebody who is willing to have a threesome. I have been propositioned once again, and it is the weirdest situation in the world to me. I don't even want to explain it because it is sooooooo crazy and personal. But hypothetically, lets say someone you used to fuck with called and asked you to have a threesome with them and their current sex partner. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe that shit is a natural occurrence somewhere, but it will never get old to me. I am not a prude so its not really the idea of a threesome that I object to. But I have jealous tendencies and there is no way I could have a threesome with someone I used to fuck with, especially if i really cared about them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really think the show 'The Game' and that Melanie and Derwin threesome episode is fucking people up. Well some people I personally know. I already know the only way I could have a threesome is if it was some random bitch, but who wants to just fuck some random bitch. That shit is nasty when you think about it. But I couldn't fuck with someone that I knew cause that would be even weirder. I'd be somewhere swabbing vaginas running tests first cause you never know these days. "The prettiest people, do the ugliest things" (c) Kanye West. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7818100326390406371?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7818100326390406371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7818100326390406371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7818100326390406371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7818100326390406371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/03/threesomeyes-again-smh.html' title='Threesome...yes AGAIN! smh.'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5013113379753600514</id><published>2011-02-28T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T13:29:21.205-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stream of Consciousness</title><content type='html'>We used to do this all the time in my Honors English classes in HS. 15 minutes and you write down everything that comes to your mind...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND GO...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i dont even know where to begin. this is some bullshit. what this is I really don't know,but I do know it includes alot of bullshit. i hate everybody, i really do. and i dont mean to, i dont want to, but i fucking do. and i can't help it. alot of shit in my life needs to change. people wont respect me on their own so i will make them. i know i can't force anybody to do anything but i will try. at least when it comes to making people respect me. I treat people how i would like to be treated but I always get the short end of the stick because its some very selfish non-giving a fuck motherfuckers out here who only care about themselves and can't even begin to look past them and do something nice for somebody else just because its the right thing to do. well not necessarily right but its the godlike thing to do. its just what the fuck you suppose to do. and what can i do about people who chose not to walk the same path as me. nothing i guess. but i know one thing i wont be doing anymore. and thats loving and caring for people too much. i am soooooo over that shit. way beyond it all because im tired of people caring about me and loving me when its convenient for them. im not like that so the shit is mind boggling to me how it can even be done. If i care about you, i care about you. If I love you, I love you. And regardless of what happens, i always will, if i really truly deep down honestly have a connection with you and love you like i love myself. I love everybody generally but of course there are certain people who mean more to me than others and so therefore I love them more. which is understandable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i am just tired of dealing with people who are only capable of thinking about themselves. Im always self-minded thats just how i am. but i can think about others too. and I think right now I am noticing and thinking about others and why they are so fucked up when i should be thinking about me and why im so fucked up. and why im in the situations that i am in. Because this is some bullshit and i am tired of complaining about it. i want to fix it. and i will. i just need time. in due time all is well. I will have peace once again. that is the day that i am waiting for. the day when i can breathe a sigh of relief and say i have everything that i want. im good. that will be the fucking day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But until then, i might need to start a bail money account cause i be on the fucking edge with everybody. and they all so used to me being nice calm megan, and just letting them fuck me over and take advantage of me that everybody has forgotten that I have feelings that need to be considered to. And i dont necessarily want to go into this protective shell and say fuck everybody. but thats what its coming down to. Cause thats how I feel. Fuck everybody. if you not helping me, you hurting me. and thats that. i'll be back on my shit one day, and im giving everybody that ever doubted me or had some negative shit to say, or who just refused to fucking help me when they know they could, my ass to kiss. But not in a fuck the world type way, but in a way, yeah bitches, you thought i really needed you huh? yeah kiss my ass motherfuckers. lol. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okay im done...LMAO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5013113379753600514?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5013113379753600514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5013113379753600514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5013113379753600514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5013113379753600514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/02/stream-of-consciousness.html' title='Stream of Consciousness'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7745811483171692031</id><published>2011-02-28T12:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T12:34:26.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(sigh) Imma stop complaining one day</title><content type='html'>Today won't be that day though. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everybody and their mama is getting on my nerves lately. And you know what that means. Time for change. Time to do me. Time to think about myself and not worry about others. They clearly not worried about me. Only when they being nosey. If you don't care everyday, then you don't get to pick and chose with me. Fuck it, I don't need your half ass caring anyway. I care about myself enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've learned my lesson with caring too much about people who don't understand how to reciprocate. If you don't even consider my feelings in a situation, you don't give a fuck about me. And thats fine. I'll live. With or without you. But don't keep trying to act like you give a fuck when I know you don't. You looking out for yourself, and thats fine. But you gone end up with just yourself in the long run. And be surrounded by a bunch of people who love you situationally, and not unconditionally. But if thats what you want, fine. You can have all that shit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7745811483171692031?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7745811483171692031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7745811483171692031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7745811483171692031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7745811483171692031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/02/sigh-imma-stop-complaining-one-day.html' title='(sigh) Imma stop complaining one day'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1558644404224147320</id><published>2011-02-16T11:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:48:39.988-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Newest Life Quote to Live By</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "  &gt;“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.” -Audre Lord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1558644404224147320?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1558644404224147320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1558644404224147320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1558644404224147320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1558644404224147320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-newest-life-quote-to-live-by.html' title='My Newest Life Quote to Live By'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1944587936307066470</id><published>2011-02-16T11:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:49:30.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BTW, Valentines Day semi-sucked</title><content type='html'>So I didnt get the dream V-day as I expected, but it was definitely better than last year. I got sad around 11:00 pm and wanted to cry myself to sleep, but I sucked it up. Fuck it. I'm tired of crying and all that sad ass girly shit. I have bigger and better things to be worried about right now. Having a significant other will have to be a goal that I put on hold for now. Until I am out of the situation that I am in because it wouldn't work right now anyway. I have too much shit going on. I need to FOCUS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1944587936307066470?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1944587936307066470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1944587936307066470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1944587936307066470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1944587936307066470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/02/btw-valentines-semi-sucked.html' title='BTW, Valentines Day semi-sucked'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5231138364757242476</id><published>2011-02-16T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:19:14.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You wanna hear the Good or the Bad first?</title><content type='html'>I know I complain on here a whole lot but its my only real way to get out how I am feeling at the moment. And I guess that I am not satisfied with where my life is right now, and everything that is going on, so yeah, i come across like everything is shitty, but its really not. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me talk about the good things first...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found out yesterday that I am HIV Negative. That was a big sigh of relief. Not that I thought I had HIV, but because I know I haven't been practicing safe sex as I should be. I know better, and after that I will make a very conscious effort to be as safe as possible. Its scary that you can't be 100%, but I will try my best to prevent what I can. TMI- Condoms aren't really my vagina's best friend. So I almost rather not have sex at all than to use condoms. They just cause complications with me that negatively affect enjoying sex. I was also told by the doctor that I have a healthy vagina and cervix. So as far as my sexual health goes, I am in good shape. As far as I know, I have to get some more results back, but I'm praying that all goes well too. And as far as I know, my overall health is in good shape as well. Thats always a plus. Health is very important. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a job that allows me to make money to support myself so that I can survive and purchase things that I need first, and some small things that I want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am provided with a place to sleep at night and somewhere to shower. It is not my own, but I appreciate the fact that I am not homeless and living on the street. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have people such as my mother, family and friends, who I know love me for me. And I know they know me and my character as a person, and they really do appreciate me and love me for who I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I have my relationship with God. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, thats all the good things I can think about for now. Now bad...well not necessarily bad, but the things that I would definitely want to change in my near future...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to get my own apartment and car. I hate living in a place where I can't do what I want. I can't have company over. I can't just cook and eat whatever I want. I can't live comfortably like that. Without a car, I can't go where I want to go. I get tired of walking everywhere, and having to catch the metro, bus, or cab. I can't go home and see my mama and family when I want to. Its very frustrating to me. I am not the wait around for people type. I like working on my own time, and the situations that I am in right now, are not allowing me to do that. I understand that when I deal with other people I have to work with them, but if it is something I want to do, I don't feel like I have to. Imma get what I want, how I want it. And I will try my best not to step on any toes or leave anyone out, but I don't have time to be waiting around. Life is too short. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am frustrated with the fact that everyone wants to depend on me for stuff. And I hate when people do that forreal. I am not always gonna be there, so whereas I understand you may need my help, I can't always be the one to save you. Shit, I can barely fucking save myself these days because of all the saving others that I am doing. And on one hand, I dont mind because I genuinely want people to do better for themselves. But I want them to do it, and be the one's responsible. Not me. Nobody owes me shit. I would help a stranger on the street, just as soon as I would help my own mother. And thats alot of the problem with why I can't help myself, because I care too much about others. I inconvenience myself alot so that other people can have the things they want. I'm tired of doing that. I'm tired of listening to everybody and their problems and they shit that is going on in their lives. They all call me and talk, but I don't really feel like I have someone that I could talk to, except God. I am so misunderstood. lol. And its mind boggling to me because I am very simple, but you would think i was the most complicated bitch alive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't even get into the subject of Love. I could talk that shit all day, but it still won't change anything. It still won't make anything that I want to happen, happen. I really just have to leave that all up to God and wait for him to send me the right person. Because I am tired of dealing with the guys that approach me. Well I don't actually even deal with them at all, but I'm just tired of even paying attention or trying to just because somebody is a "nice" guy. Fuck niggas for right now, I have way more important shit to do for myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because this era of my life that I am in right now has got to come to some type of conclusion soon. I can't take it much longer. It is really driving me crazy. And I'm trying to do things that make my situation better, but I can't forget that I am in this situation. I would rather suffer instead of pretending that everything is fine, cause this shit is not fine to me. This shit is not okay. This is not how I envisioned my life and I refuse to let it go on any longer. I have got to do something about it. I have to devise some type of plan to get me out of this situation and start working towards it. Because right now it is very hard for me to see the light at the end of the tunnel, shit I dont even see the tunnel right now. Thats how bad it is. I'm in a Catch 22 type situation. At least thats how I feel. I can't really help myself right now. I had planned on using my tax money but since Uncle Sam was like no money for you this year, I'm back at square one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its my defeatist attitude that I am trying so desperately to get over. I've always liked immediate results, and shit just not working out for me like that. I am going to have to work hard for everything I get. Well everything that I get that means something to me. I could have shit easy, but I don't want this easy shit. I don't want to feel obligated to anybody, or want anybody to feel obligated to me. I have to get my shit together. I know it. I been knowing it. But its hard especially when I  have to keep up with all the things I have to do to maintain my life right now. I have to act like I give a fuck about a lot of shit that i just dont right now. I want to give a fuck about me, but everything around me is like care about me first. i gotta get on some tunnel vision shit forreal. I gotta get on that "I dont see nobody like a headshot" (c) Lil Wayne. Because that is the only way that I will be able to make some shit happen for me. I don't want to accept anybody else's vision of me. I want to establish my own. And that is the main goal for me at the moment. That will be my new boyfriend. Getting my shit together, so that I can get in a place where I feel comfortable, at the least. Because right now nothing is comfortable to me. No matter where I go, I can't really be myself and do what I want without regard to someone else. And its not coming from a place of selfishness but just from a place where I feel I need to look out for me right now. I'll be back to my regularly scheduled program of helping others, but i have to help myself first. Because I am just unstable right now and I know it. My mind is in the right place, I'm just not. I gotta get it together if I ever want anything to change. I have no choice at this point. its now or never. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll be living for everyone else forever, if I dont start living for myself. I have to keep reminding myself that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5231138364757242476?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5231138364757242476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5231138364757242476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5231138364757242476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5231138364757242476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-wanna-hear-good-or-bad-first.html' title='You wanna hear the Good or the Bad first?'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4142407095921109813</id><published>2011-01-31T12:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T14:38:22.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ideal Valentines Day for Me</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I tried writing this in a perspective of me telling what my ideal would be, but I think it would be better and easier for me to write coming from a hindsight perspective. So this is what I would like to be saying on February 15th about my Valentines Day. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday, February 11th to Monday, February 14, 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am still in shock about everything that has happened this weekend. Never in a million years did I imagine him to do anything like this. Okay, maybe in my wildest dreams, but never in my actual reality. I had faith in him, and God, of course, but this was even more than I ever expected from him. Shoutout to God, because I know I really owe it all to him. Miracles do happen. I believe now more than ever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a long time, shit just has not been as we would like it to be. If I had my way is an understatement. But after everything, it finally seems as if I will have my way, and Thank you god, I cant say it enough. Last year had to be the worst Valentines day in the history of Valentines day for me. When i finally thought I was gonna have a real valentine, God was like NOPE, not this year. lol. I can laugh now, but in that moment, everybody in that house could have came up missing forever. And I thank God for allowing me to remain as sane as I did, because everything in me wanted to go crazy, but all I could manage to do was cry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that is neither here nor there, because this Valentines day made up for every shitty Valentines day that I have ever had thus far. Every single tear, every single 'I hate Valentines day' and all that has been erased from my memory and has been replaced with the events of this past weekend. I will love Valentines day forever now. No longer will it be the day that reminds me of how single and alone I am, but it will remind me of how far we have come, and how much love we have accumulated for each other over these past few years despite everything, and how much love we are both ready and willing to give to each other for the rest of our lives together. I will finally be able to associate Valentines day with Love, as it should be, and not loneliness, as I always have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Valentines day marks another chapter in my life journey. A chapter that I feel like I have been preparing for my entire life. I'm finally here. FINALLY. You don't know how good it feels to be able to say that. I'm in the right place, at the right time, and it feels soooooo good! In my wildest dreams it was all possible and for a long time, I felt that my dreams were all I would be able to have. I held on to him despite everything, even my own better judgment, because I do believe that love conquers all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And even though some things happened that I would have never imagined, I can love it all for what it is, because it got us to this point, and I wouldn't have it any other way. It all was worth it for this one moment. The culmination of everything that I have been working hard and patiently towards for the past 3 years. Did I doubt it at times, yes. But deep down I knew he was the one for me, regardless of what people wanted to make me believe because of what happened. And he knows I am the one for him, regardless of what people want him to believe too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can't help who you fall in love with. I tried to resist it for so long, but I was in love the moment I laid eyes on that man. Seriously, my first thought when I really noticed him was "He gone be my future boyfriend" Which for me, pretty much says he gone be my future husband. I knew it from day one, but I fought it as long as I could. And now I dont have to fight it anymore. And I dont want to. I want to love him. Forever. And yesterday marks the beginning of forever. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I LOVE THAT MAN!!!! THANK GOD FOR EVERYTHING!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The details of the days aren't really important to me. I won't really care what we do, as long as I get to do it all with him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*fingers crossed*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4142407095921109813?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4142407095921109813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4142407095921109813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4142407095921109813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4142407095921109813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/01/ideal-valentines-day-for-me.html' title='The Ideal Valentines Day for Me'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5982930336647006938</id><published>2011-01-20T13:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T13:51:16.988-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Glimpse Into My Mind Right Now</title><content type='html'>Where do I begin...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is crazy, and right now I feel like I am waiting for the opportunity that I been wanting all my life. To have a husband, family, kids, relationship, all that. I've peeked through a couple windows, but I can tell its not really what I am looking for. Everybody wants to control me. It is the craziest thing. Or I know I could control them. Nobody wants me, and who I am and want to be. Its very discouraging. Sometimes I do feel doomed to be alone forever. I try not to think of it that way, but i refuse to settle. I know I could make myself love just about anybody. I see the good in everybody. But I also have a hard time ignoring flaws and shit that I don't like. Which is why I have to be able to deal with a person's flaws if I am going to be with them. And so anybody who off the break trys to control me or tell me they love me, I'm instantly turned off. And I am convinced that is not a bad thing, but is it a good thing? Are my wants making it hard for me to find someone who will love me for me. I don't really want much. I can live with a lot of things. But I can't live with a man who does not respect me. And respect for me covers a lot of points, from cheating, being honest, communication and just allowing me to live my life as I chose. I dont like to have too many expectations of people. That is a set up for failure. I can only have expectations of myself. What I will and won't do. I can only draw my lines. And I expect my man to be able to draw his own too. I dont know. I guess I just know how serious Love and all that shit is. I feel like I am the only one sometimes. Its not about love anymore, shit is about survival. Love is about business relationships now. Not personal, at all.  But for me, love is as personal as it gets. How can you have love, if its not personal? You not suppose to just love people when its convenient for you, you just suppose to love. And especially when it comes to relationships and marriage, how do you expect a business relationship to last when its all circumstantial? once the business is up, or once you dont feel the need to be apart of the business anymore, the love is gone. Thats why I feel that Love has to be personal when it comes to relationships and marriage. Love should be the one thing that motivates you. Love for yourself first, then for others. You can never go wrong that way. Love conquers all. I do believe that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I do want to believe that. A lot of my life experiences have kind of made it hard for me to see that. But I guess as long as I keep loving myself, i cant go wrong. I will find the one for me. I kinda think I already have, and I hope he has come to the realization, but not everything works out in my favor. And like I said, I dont want expectations to have me all in my feelings if shit dont turn out how I want it to. I am trying to remain biased about everything but its hard when i know deep down what i really want. But because of circumstances beyond my control, I cant have it. And i think thats what frustrates me the most. I can understand everyone's mindset in the situation, but at the same time, we wasting time here. We wasting lives. Nobody is really enjoying whats going on. We all miserable, yet nobody is taking any steps to get where we want to be. In my case, the situation is out of my hands. I guess everyone feels like it is out of their hands. Everybody waiting on a miracle from God. And I dont know if thats good or bad either. Maybe we at that point where a miracle is the only thing can restore the natural order. But i feel like God wants us to solve the problem. or he is waiting for us to do it. But my hands are tied, his hands are tied, and its all on somebody else. I just pray that God allows her to do the right thing for everyone. not just for herself. but for everyone. And that love is allowed to conquer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Im not usually selfish and I will give up shit so that other people can be happy at my own expense, but at the same time, I have to go for what I want. I have to look out for me, and if it means me being selfish about some things some time, then okay, i can live with that. I gotta look out for number one. I have to keep reminding myself of that. Its okay to be selfish sometimes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have faith that things are going to work out for me. I always get what I want. Maybe not right when I want it, but I always get it. God knows my heart. And thats all that matters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me be patient. Let me be kind. Make me unselfish, without being blind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5982930336647006938?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5982930336647006938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5982930336647006938' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5982930336647006938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5982930336647006938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2011/01/glimpse-into-my-mind-right-now.html' title='A Glimpse Into My Mind Right Now'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2143096089320417389</id><published>2010-11-22T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T13:33:32.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Mood: I Don't Even Know</title><content type='html'>I am feeling some type of way right now. I hate that phrase but it fits because I can't exactly put my finger on how I am feeling. I want to cry, but I don't at the same time. I don't know how I want to feel. I woke up this morning, actually missing somebody. Like Officially. I been missing him, but its really hitting me now. And its so bad that I actually want to just go somewhere and cry about it. To at least get my feelings out. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know how else to deal with this bullshit. I'm trying not to do my normal just saying fuck it and pretend like these feelings don't exist. But feeling them doesn't make me feel any better. And I know why I feel the way I do. It's all me. But I cant escape me, so how do I escape these feelings?Cause right now I wanna cry. And thats it. Lord knows I don't need to be angry anymore. I have officially decided to let that go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2143096089320417389?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2143096089320417389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2143096089320417389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2143096089320417389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2143096089320417389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/11/current-mood-i-dont-even-know.html' title='Current Mood: I Don&apos;t Even Know'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8105388832392295988</id><published>2010-07-14T10:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T12:05:03.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Black Book</title><content type='html'>"If we are to share our lives together, why didn't we share our lives? I know you don't have to tell me everything, but why wouldn't you want too?"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always thought that was one of the realest movie quotes I have ever heard. It made perfect sense, especially in the setting of the movie, but in life and love, as well. Why don't we want people to know how we really feel? Why are feelings these big secrets that we aren't suppose to share with others? In my experience, feelings can be wonderful or they can be devastating. In the realm of love, its usually either Love or Hate. When everything is good, everything is great. But when things are going bad, everything seems to be doomed forever. We don't even recognize that we do not have these feelings because of other people, we have these feelings because of things within ourself. Because of the thoughts we think.  And these thoughts create the feelings that we experience, and determine whether we will have good feelings about something or bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which is why a lot of times in relationships, we are scared to express our feelings because we are not taught to be emotional. Women are given more leeway in the realm of emotions, but control has always been key. How many times have somebody said something to you and you think what gives this person the right to say that to me? But they have every right, because that is how they were feeling. Good or bad. But you also have every right to let them know how you feel as well. It goes both ways, but we have been conditioned that we should treat people nicely, no matter what. And that is where the issues begin. Nobody has any right to dump on someone because they are feeling some type of way. And you don't have to take it. You can speak up because there is nothing wrong with defending yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is the basic principle that they do not teach us, because they do not want us to know. If we let people know how we feel, then we start to feel better about ourselves. And when people feel better about themselves, they want to do better for themselves. It is no wonder there are so many institutions that were designed to keep people feeling like they have no choice. And Love is no different. We stay with people because we feel like we have no choice or either because we fear losing them. And we do this only because we are afraid to express how we really feel about a situation, in fear of the negative consequences, or because we do not want to expose our true self to others. But if you really love someone, why wouldn't you want them to know the real you? Why work so hard to pretend to be something that you are not, when you can effortlessly be yourself? You know what you want, you know what you like, you know what you can deal with, and what you can not. Why do we leave it up to other people to try and make us happy when we are the ones who know exactly what makes us happy? Happiness is not something you should have to work at or sacrifice for to achieve. Happiness should be something within yourself that you always have, no matter what goes on outside of you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To survive in life, we have to do things that we would not chose to do on our own. Working a job that we hate to buy the things that we need is one major thing many people have to learn to deal with. Nobody ever fully accepts anything that they have to do, they only deal with it. They focus on the aspects that appeal to them, and try to avoid the ones that remind them of how much they would rather be doing something else. You never forget what you want to do. Your wants may change, but you will never be happy doing something you did not want to do. You can be satisfied and have moments of happiness, but you will not be happy in spirit. And everyone has their threshold of how long they can hold out on their happiness, but eventually your spirit will reach its breaking point. Which is why you hear about men who go through mid-life crisis, and up and leave their families with no explanation. Their spirit couldn't take being denied happiness anymore, and it forced them to make changes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is all about learning from mistakes, not avoiding them or ignoring the message that the universe is trying to send you. Your first instinct is what you should always go with. You have doubts because you have fear. You can't go wrong when making decisions that come from a place of love for yourself first, and then for others. You really do have to know how to love yourself before you can really love and be able to share your life with someone else. You cannot be afraid, if you are going to love, you have to love with everything you got. You can't second guess anything, you have to know you are ready to be yourself, so you can allow the person you are with to be them self, and you can both be comfortable with sharing your selves with each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CHURCH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8105388832392295988?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8105388832392295988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8105388832392295988' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8105388832392295988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8105388832392295988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/07/little-black-book.html' title='Little Black Book'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2505952609280464284</id><published>2010-06-23T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T13:49:28.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>smh. Boys. ugh.</title><content type='html'>He never ceases to disappoint me. He didnt answer the phone last night as expected. His silly mad ass. I have never in my life wanted to just fucking choke somebody to death. Until Him. I find myself daydreaming about murdering him all the time. I just wanna kill this niggas. He does the dumbest stuff ever. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How can you possibly be mad at me for JOKING AROUND, but yet, shit is real for you. And just because I don't say anything, it doesn't mean that shit doesnt bother me. Because it does, but I assume that my feelings dont matter. So I dont bring them up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know him too well. He doesn't want to admit to me that he cares because I know he assumes he shouldn't. And he really shouldn't. But just like with me, it is hard not to care about somebody when you've spent time with them like that. So he reacted to my comments, first with an attitude and madness. Then once he realized I knew he cared, he switched to acting like he didnt care about my comments. HE ALWAYS DOES THIS. It never fails. Showing any sign of emotion is weak to him. He only does it when he feels he has to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand him so well that when he does stuff like this I don't even really get mad because I know where its coming from. So I feel bad for making him believe I was gonna fuck his co-workers. But I wont let him continue to blame shit on me like everything that went wrong in his life was my fault. Like I really think he blames me for it. At least some aspects of it. But I cant make any life decisions for him. Anything he decided to do, he decided to do. At first I thought maybe he was on his life path of accepting responsibility, but the more I talk to him, the more I realize that he is not. Everything is everybody else's fault and it just leaves him to deal with it. Thats what he believes. I know it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanna save him. I do. I really do. And I think I will try. Because I know he feeling like he don't have anybody right now. And so I feel bad that I faked my not caring. Maybe thats why I still care. Maybe that is the reason. Maybe thats why I'm getting all these insights on him, and for the most part, they all have been true. But the hardest thing to do is going to be getting him to really talk to me. To just trust me because for some reason he doesn't. I dont know. Imma pray for him and this situation. I just want him to be happy. And I can tell he is miserable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2505952609280464284?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2505952609280464284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2505952609280464284' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2505952609280464284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2505952609280464284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/06/smh-boys-ugh.html' title='smh. Boys. ugh.'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3952347550720741995</id><published>2010-06-22T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T08:46:04.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so confused.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;The more I think I understand him, the more he proves me right. I knew he would feel some type of way about me saying I was going to make one of his co-workers my new boo. &lt;/span&gt;And he reacted pretty much as I expected, but I didn’t. I thought maybe I wouldn’t care. Maybe him acting like he cared wouldn’t bother me, and I would be able to just dismiss it like I do other guys. But he was different. Again. I felt bad. Especially after he started accusing me of being different, and saying I have changed. And I know exactly what he is talking about. I get this all the time. He is not used to this me. He has never seen this Me. He is used to the Me that likes him, not the me that does not care. And maybe that is mean of me to assume that he didn’t care, but how could I ever tell he did. Like I have a conscious and I do feel bad because I know he feels that I just want to talk shit, and get my sodas, and that I don’t really care. And that’s the furthest thing from the truth, but I also don’t know if I should let him know that. I don’t want to put myself back in a crazy situation that I know won’t end happily for me. Because I will never be able to have what I want. I can get it when I can, but never when I want. And that’s what I won’t like. I can’t go back. I said it. And I know I shouldn’t be talking to him,but I also know that I probably will. Shit, you live and you learn right? I don’t wanna make the same mistake twice , so I guess I better learn as much as I&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;can from this situation. Like I find myself wanting to talk to him just to see how its gonna make me feel. Like testing everything just to see if I can handle it for myself, because I am going to have to be able to handle the situation. Because I can’t expect him to handle it for me. At all. I know that much now. But he can suck me in so easy, I know it. When it comes to him, I am weak. And the only way this will work is if I can keep my emotions uninvolved. But I am going to talk to him. And try my best to explain this all to him. Because he needs to know that its all an act that I feel I should be putting on for myself and for him. Because everything is what it is. I don’t see anything changing. And I guess that is what I have to keep reminding myself. I cant be living in hopes of stuff to happen., I just have to live. Do whats right for me. And see what happens. I mean, I care for him for a reason. Guess I will find that reason out later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3952347550720741995?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3952347550720741995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3952347550720741995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3952347550720741995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3952347550720741995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/06/so-confused.html' title='so confused.'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-6270069133899662796</id><published>2010-05-21T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T08:30:10.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Told You...</title><content type='html'>I knew it. I said it plenty of times. This guy was gonna be the one to completely break my heart. To just rip it out my chest, stomp on it, and not even give a fuck. Well at least thats what it seems like. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And honestly, Im not that devastated. Because I knew it was coming, but I tried to ignore it. And thats my fault. I know the exact moment I should have got out, but I didnt, and thats my fault too. I could blame him for everything, but then I'd be walking around here mad at the world, and for what? For events that I cant change. I cant make somebody grow up, because thats the real issue here. He think he taking care of his responsibility but the way he is going about it will bite him in the ass in the long run. He's making decisions based on only himself, and he's not considering anyone else's feelings, but his own. And like I said, its only gonna hurt him in the long run. But whatever, I cant save him. I tried, but he wont listen. So whatever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what hurt me the most was the way everything went down. How everything ended, well not really ended, just stopped. Cause there was no ending. I still dont know what to think. Or what I should think. Because i want to believe that he is a dog, and everything was a lie for some ulterior motive or reason. But then again, I want to believe that he did really have feelings for me, but the situation was too much to handle. And I can understand that. But he didnt give me the chance to. And still won't, and thats what hurts the most. He assumed a lot of shit about my character and it was all wrong. I actually thought about him before I thought about myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess all i really need to know for myself so that I can move on, is what category to put him in. The niggas aint shit category, or the we could have been great category. but either way, i need to put him somewhere so I can stop thinking about him all the time. I wanna move on, but i know I wont be able to until I get the answer to my question. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-6270069133899662796?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/6270069133899662796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=6270069133899662796' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6270069133899662796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6270069133899662796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/05/told-you.html' title='Told You...'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4768247472053011170</id><published>2010-04-13T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T06:28:17.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Hate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well one thing in particular, being ignored. If I had a gun, Id probably be under the jail right now. Continue to pray for me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Love is a ticking time bomb..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4768247472053011170?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4768247472053011170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4768247472053011170' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4768247472053011170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4768247472053011170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/04/things-i-hate.html' title='Things I Hate'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5508940165451505823</id><published>2010-03-29T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T12:36:23.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EXACTLY</title><content type='html'>"I be cussin, I be screamin like its ova, then i'm lovin, and i'm feenin just to hold ya, and thats how we do...Now I'll play tough but not for too long, You are someone i depend on, No matter how i act at times, I could never walk away, I thought about it plenty times, But no one can take your place"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I listen to music, I can really relate to what they are saying. This is one of those instances. Trey Songz and Mary hit the nail on the head with this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5508940165451505823?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5508940165451505823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5508940165451505823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5508940165451505823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5508940165451505823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/03/exactly.html' title='EXACTLY'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4926655649454862039</id><published>2010-01-22T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T09:35:42.364-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody got a Do's and Don't's of Relationship Guide???</title><content type='html'>Does one of those actually exist? If not, I need to start doing some research and start writing one. Cause ya girl could definitely use one ASAP. I used to think I would be ready for a relationship when the time came up. I always thought I would be a perfect girlfriend. And I strive to be that, but its like the smallest shit can make my boo mad. Even when I do the right thing. Like he not mad cause I fucked up, he mad cause he can't handle me talking to another nigga. And I literally mean just talking, conversating. And thats apparently just one of those do's and don't's that I clearly don't know about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me...lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4926655649454862039?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4926655649454862039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4926655649454862039' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4926655649454862039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4926655649454862039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/01/anybody-got-dos-and-donts-of.html' title='Anybody got a Do&apos;s and Don&apos;t&apos;s of Relationship Guide???'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8728468807368109768</id><published>2010-01-19T09:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T09:37:35.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Blogging</title><content type='html'>I am going through an emotionally intense time (&lt;a href="http://ydf.astrology.com/"&gt;ydf.astrology.com&lt;/a&gt;) and its CRAZY because everything that the website says, I AM GOING THROUGH at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like it says that pretty much this year, I need to focus on myself. I have to be my own priority. No matter what. And already, not but 19 days into the year, I was faced with my first REMINDER, that this year is suppose to be all about ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "boo"has been refusing to answer his phone when I call him on the weekends. Especially Saturdays. He has been obviously and blatantly ignoring me. AND I HATE IT!!! And I've tried talking to him about it. FAIL. Ive tried showing him I was mad in an attempt that he would see how this affects me and he would stop. FAIL. So I warned him that my next approach, he would not like. I decided to stop caring. But I quickly realized that with him, it is easier said than done. Because of the fact that I actually do care, its hard to turn it off at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the more that I tried to not care this weeekend, the more I realized I did. And I started thinking about WHY I was really mad. Like is the issue really him not answering his phone, or is it something else? And after a VERY LONG WEEKEND to myself, I realized that the underlying issue is the fact that I do not have a life. I was depending on other people's company, and I realize that I can't do that. He has a life outside of me and I can't be selfish or demanding. I realize now that I can be demanding, but he can't fault me because I was used to spending all my weekend time with him, and now all of sudden, things are changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like this all comes down to a bunch of stuff. Like everything stems from him answering his phone, and so I wanted to blame him for my loneliness. Which he can take partial blame for because he has a responsibility as my boo. But I can't fully blame everything on him. He has a life outside of me. And I realize that now. I have a life outside of him as well, but its just work. So after work, its whatever. But now that I realize that, we can probably get over this snag in our progression. Cause hopefully thats the only reason he's been avoiding me, because he thinks Im mad at him, and hes not gonna answer until he is ready to hear what he thinks I have to say. Cause I can see the tension building, like we recently almost argued over what flavor ice cream to buy, and thats not good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imma shock the shit out of him with this revelation, cause just his luck, its works out for him. THIS TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo-1, Megan-0.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is what my year will entail of...Wanting to blame other people for my problems, and then realizing that it is something within myself that I must change. WISH ME LUCK!! Me and emotions dont mix very well together. I can't deal with them, and the only way I know how to not let stuff bother me, is to not care. And now that I think about it, my boo is the exact same way...NOT TOO GOOD. Something is going to have to give, we can't walk around not caring about everything when we obviously care. WISH ME LUCK (again) cause relationships are new to me also. Im scared Imma fail, but thats another blog entry...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8728468807368109768?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8728468807368109768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8728468807368109768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8728468807368109768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8728468807368109768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-blogging.html' title='Back to Blogging'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8342232170974119129</id><published>2010-01-12T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T08:46:18.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Poem, Same Feelings</title><content type='html'>Titled: Venus in Virgo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive seen it too many times, so I know it all too well.&lt;br /&gt;The moment you think everything is going good; that's when it all turns to hell.&lt;br /&gt;I want to let love run its course because only time can tell,&lt;br /&gt;but the moment I try to free myself, expectations send me back to jail.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love with everything I've got, so you know no one could ever take your spot.&lt;br /&gt;But it seems as if no matter what I do, something makes me think twice about loving you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I titled this poem Venus in Virgo because that is the placement of my love sign. Which is actually the worst placement for love because it makes you very calculating and reserved about love. And anybody who knows love KNOWS that you can't predict or even begin to try. Its one of those works best if you go with the flow type things, but Venus in Virgo does not just go with the flow, unless the flow is going the way it wants. Most Venus in Virgo's are picky, and will not settle. So once they find what they want, they will usually stick with it, being some of the most forgiving and willing to put forth an effort to make it work. However, once they realize it will not work for them, then they are OUT. No questions, no answers, no nothing. Because deciding to leave is never something that is spur of the moment, it was pondered upon for months, maybe even years, weighing the good and bad CONSTANTLY, and once the bad outweighs the good, and the effort isn't worth it anymore, its over. So it may seem like Venus in Virgo will leave at the drop of a dime, but it is never really like that at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thats kind of what I am going through now. Everything is either Good or Bad for me. No middle ground at all. Its either Love or Hate. And couple that with my feelings, and the bad stuff can seem like the worst thing in the world to me. But on the plus side, when everything is good, everything is GREAT! I need to learn to find this middle ground. I see that it is the only way we are going to work for the long haul.  ...Almost 2 years and counting...I hope he know what he got himself into...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8342232170974119129?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8342232170974119129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8342232170974119129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8342232170974119129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8342232170974119129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2010/01/old-poem-same-feelings.html' title='Old Poem, Same Feelings'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-559394254740459606</id><published>2009-08-28T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T13:01:33.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ydf.astrology.com</title><content type='html'>This website is amazing for various reasons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, as of yesterday and especially today I have noticed that I am very irritable, moody and things of that nature. I don't feel like doing too much, but at the same time I am restless. And while I was in a state of peace with myself, I can almost feel my feelings and emotions building up inside me. I can't stop thinking about everything, but in particular, my moving to my new apartment (YAY ME!!!) and my love life, as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said all that to say that the above website, pretty much predicted all of this to me. And I read about it yesterday. Crazy right? Read this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YESTERDAY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've reached a time of inner peace and balance. Your perceptions and communication are operating on both emotional and intellectual levels, creating a much more satisfying method of interacting with the world at large. Your personal relationships, especially with the women in your life, are running very smoothly; if you're used to having trouble communicating with your sister or your mother, for example, call her up and enjoy a delightful conversation! If you have a solid emotional base in your life -- a long-term lover, a close connection with your parents, even a very loyal and loving pet -- you'll reap the benefits of that relationship. If not, now is the perfect time to start laying that kind of foundation with other people. If you're single and looking for a lover, this is a good time -- your communication is soulful, emotional and true. If you're single and loving it, this is the perfect time to rediscover how much emotional nourishment you can actually provide for yourself. After all, your relationship with yourself may be the most important of all your personal relationships, and is certainly one to be cultivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TODAY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're feeling out of sync with your environment and out of sorts for no conceivable reason right now. A rebellious, restless energy passes through your day, disrupting your routine, your work and your mood. If you allow this energy to take hold, you could suddenly find yourself in an argument you wouldn't usually have strong emotions about. Your actions or utterances may surprise you and those around you; you're uncharacteristically defiant and agitated.Keep close watch on yourself, your emotions and your behavior. In a positive sense, any long-buried or suppressed feelings are now coming to the surface, asking for your examination.The work and relationships you are involved in on a daily basis are undergoing some sort of challenge. The people with whom you are closest seem suddenly removed from you; your relationships with them are tense and strained. Rather than simmering under the surface, these tensions are welling up and out; thus, arguments and misunderstandings are likely during this period. You may not be conscious of the fact that there are feelings at work within you that are coloring all your interactions; you would do well to think about what these feelings might be so that you can deal with the world -- and with your friends and loved ones -- on a more direct basis. You feel a bit emotionally jagged now, somehow out of sorts, as if you are not communicating well with yourself. You may get into disagreements with others as a result, especially if you normally tend toward moodiness and irritability. The current energy lends itself well to friction, so the more naturally susceptible you are to getting out of balance, the more this energy will affect you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how one day can make such a difference? And its crazy because I can FEEL all of this happening, as we speak. And with this website you can read days ahead, and this intense emotional energy that I feel is suppose to only get stronger. And it is suppose to be the universe's way of getting me to focus more on myself, and my desires, wants, needs, feelings, everything. And I can say that I went through all of this earlier this year, and it lasted from about February to May. But it may have lasted that long because I kind of tried to resist everything that was going on the first time, but as soon as I gave in, I noticed things started to change, and I become more at peace with myself, and what was going on in my life. And my mind was able to rest. It was refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can feel it happening all over again. And I just don't want to go through it, but I know that the more I resist, the longer it will take for this energy to pass. But I am dreading the emotional bursts, and outpours that I know I am bound to experience soon. But I know that all of this will better me somehow in the end, so I have no choice but to suffer through it. But I really hate feelig all extra emotional. I know Im already an extremely emotional person, I just don't show it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, I read on the website that now is a great time to reveal my feelings to my lover. And during my last "whatever you wanna call it," my only concern was letting my "lover" (lol) know exactly how I felt. Like I knew that I had to tell him, but it never actually happened. And now those same feelings are all coming back to me, and I feel the urge to tell him how I feel- AGAIN. Why couldn't I have just stayed the "Carefree don't really give a fuck" girl that I was really starting to love. Because I noticed that some of the normal shit that really got on my nerves months back has not been bothering me at all recently. But I do know that this is something that I am going to eventually HAVE to do, like there is no way around it. It is inevitable, but I can't help but to put it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See let me explain. I know exactly how I feel, and in my mind I know exactly what I want to tell my "lover." (lol, that word is so funny to me) But here is my dilemma, I am very emotional on the inside, but I don't express my emotions on the outside, too often. Which, I assume, is why people always tell me they can't figure me out, or that I am hard to understand. But I conciously know the extent of my emotions. I get extremely passionate about stuff that I am interested in. So I do not want to scare my "lover" away by coming off like Im head over heels in love. Because in my approach to explain how I feel, I would need to make sure I told the person how I show somebody I like them. Because I know from just regular observation that my approach is alot less demonstrative in terms of words, and more centered on showing someone how I feel through my actions. And even with my actions, I don't do grand displays of affection, but alot of small stuff that I think really matters in terms of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because for me, just simply being able to stand being around somebody is what matters most. Building a relationship based on friendship is important because with a friendship you learn to love the greatness of that person, but you also learn to accept their flaws. And so I believe in taking my time, and not rushing things. But then I think because I am a girl, guys expect me to be pressing the issue about things, but I don't. I am extremely laid back and cool when it comes to dealing with guys. Especially guys that I like. I try not to develop expectations because that usually only sets me up for disappointment. But I don't want my feelings to be discredited because I don't openly or so dramatically express them, as other women typically do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was told to stop thinking about my feelings, and just feel them. But Im kind of scared because I know how intense my feelings can be. And I know I would be one of those crazy girls if I let my feelings dictate my actions. Cause I be ready to fuck a motherfucker up for small shit that I can't stand. But I know its small, so I get over it. And I don't like arguing, so I avoid it when I can. I don't think Im a lost cause anymore, I just think I need more time. And more lovers. (lol)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-559394254740459606?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/559394254740459606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=559394254740459606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/559394254740459606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/559394254740459606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/08/ydfastrologycom.html' title='ydf.astrology.com'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3933006584765238994</id><published>2009-07-15T12:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T13:32:48.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need To Write</title><content type='html'>My mind is so emotional right now, its crazy. All I think about are my feelings, how I feel about this, how I feel about that. How he feels about this, how he feels about that. And it is driving me fucking crazy. Like I can't even focus. Im at work staring at the computer because I can't get this bullshit out of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate feelings. Anybody who knows me well, knows that I am not an emotional person. Or better yet, I rarely have public displays of my emotions. Mainly because Ive mastered the art of controlling my emotions. Well moreso mastered the art of controlling how I express my emotions. Because emotions are uncontrollable. I can't stop myself from getting mad or jealous, but I can control how I express it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I hate is when a surge or overflow of emotions comes over me, and its too much for me to control, and I guess in my attempt to try and control myself, I cry. Whenever Im feeling any type of emotion in an extreme, I cry. And I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like Im trying so hard to control my emotions, that they build up and build up, and so when they are finally released, I don't know how to handle them. Or when a certain unexpected situation comes up that triggers my emotions, it takes over my mind, and body. I start crying, my voice will start cracking, and I won't be able to talk at all. And then, I won't be able to stop thinking about it. EVER. Because I remember every detail about stuff, and I cant forget. And so stuff is always replaying through my mind. OVER AND OVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it drives me crazy. I hate it. Like I give my friends hell when they fall head over heels in love with people (usually no-good guys), but at the same time Im jealous at the fact that I just can't allow myself to do that. Like I want to not worry, and not wonder, and not be so afraid of how I feel. And be able to express exactly how I feel. But I can't help it. (Im a Leo, My Venus and Rising Sign is in Virgo). So I feel like I was doomed in matters of the heart and Love from day 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because being a Leo means that Im ruled by my heart, and therefore I desire love more than anything else. Which is true. But with my Venus and Rising Sign in Virgo, it makes me very skeptical, critical, and analytical of everything, but especially love and matters of the heart. Which is also true. But then I also have the power of the Leo EGO working against me as well. Because I will not allow anything compromise my pride, and Love is just one of those things that you have to but aside your pride sometimes and just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've been trying. I have. But another thing that also makes it hard for me is the fact that I can almost look at somebody and tell whether or not they are worth my time or not. And I've even tried talking to people that I felt wasn't right for me from the moment I met them, only to find out that I was right, and they just wasn't the person for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while that is a good thing, because it saves me alot of heartache and time because I can weed out the non-potentials, it makes finding somebody that I actually like, a very rare occurence. In fact, I can honestly say that I have only really liked 3 people in my entire 22 years of life (about to be 23 soon), and that is including the person that I am currently "liking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its bad because I will never really move on until I find somebody else that I really like. And then I drop everything and won't ever look back. Its crazy. And I can't help it. Its how I am. And its crazy because I know everything I do, in matters of love, is all out of fear of being played, rejected, and heartbroken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is another reason that I have such a hard time with love. Because of my fear of having my heart broke, I will never show my the extent of my emotions anymore than the person I like. I will treat him how he treats me. And I always wonder how the person really feels about me, but because I have a hard time telling somebody how I really feel about them, I never ask because I know that conversation is always gonna end up with me having to tell them how I really feel too.&lt;br /&gt;Like I wish I could just do it. Like no worries, this is how I feel. And I have people who tell me I just need to do it. But I can't. Even though I know how bad I need to let somebody know how I feel sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And whats frustrating me so much now is that I have a guy that I care about. I don't love him. I like him and I care about him. But we aren't boyfriend/girlfriend or anything, so I try not to have too many expectations of him. But we have been talking for a while now and so I do have feelings for him. We don't have any problems. We've never had an argument, or fight. When we're together we get along great. But its a constant love/hate thing with me because of the fact that he is so unpredictable and unreliable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I can see him and talk to him endlessly one week, and then will not hear from him at all for 2 weeks. And I will call and text and he won't return them, and it makes me angry at myself for even wasting my time with him. And then as soon as Ive decided that he is not worth it, and stop calling and texting him, he calls me. And the cycle is repeated. And I can't figure out how to break it. Because I don't want to stop talking to him. I want him to act right. But he has been like this for a while now, and so I can see that it is just him. But it still drives me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my dilemma is whether I can deal with that part of his personality, or not. And the way that I've been dealing with it is by not calling and texting him, but thats getting to be hard because I want to call him and see him, and talk to him. I just can't win it seems like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think Im making it more difficult than it actually is, because at the very least I know he respects me. And I know he wouldn't intentionally hurt my feelings. But whether unintentional or not, I can see myself getting hurt by him. From the moment I realized I liked him, I said he was going to be the guy to completely break my heart. And Im really scared that he will. And Im trying not to develop a self-fulfillilng prophecy about it, but I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ive tried trying to find more guys to talk to, so that I could at least get my mind off him for a while. But again, that doesn't work because I want him. I don't want anybody else. At least thats what my heart is telling me. Because I do like him, and he does make me happy when Im with him, but it drives me crazy with all the thinking, feeling, and emotions when Im not. And then facebook doesn't help. And then knowing that he talks to other girls doesn't help. And knowing that he is a Gemini doesn't help. And not knowing exactly how he feels doesn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the same time, I don't want to ask him how he feels because I don't want it to change anything. Because I don't want him to be my boyfriend. I ultimately just want the boy to answer his phone, and not ignore me. Because if I don't answer his texts back within a reasonable time, he will call me, and text me stuff like "how you gone text me then not text me back." And I fall for it every time. He makes me weak. And that is not a good thing. For me. At All. Because usually I be wanting to see him so bad, that I will forget all the shit that I was mad at him for as soon as he calls or texts me. Its bad. Really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I kinda wanna just start ignoring him and stuff when he calls me, but Im too scared my plan will backfire. Plus I don't like playing games anyway. Id rather not, but Im not above it. But Id rather not. I guess I just want some type of reaction out of him. SOMETHING. that will let me know where I stand. Because I know how I feel and where I stand, but I don't know with him, and so I can't really make the decision of whether I want to say fuck it or not. Because I don't think it would be fair for me to just decide to say fuck it when I never told him how I felt, and he has never told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I guess I just know how serious Love is. See how my mind works. I can't think of anything without going through every possible situation. Which may work out in other aspects of my life that requires that, but not in Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is suppose to be spontaneous, and spur of the moment. Its suppose to come in and swoop you off your feet (and sometimes bring you back to reality) without a moment's notice. You should never have specific expectations of Love. Because the way I love you, may be different from the way you love me. And the way I show you that I love you, may be different from the way you show you love me. But it does not mean that I love you any less or more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I know all of this, and can pull all of this out of my head, I still just can't seem to let myself love and be loved. But Im working on being more verbally expressive of my true feelings. And stopping trying to think about my feelings so much, and to just feel them. Baby Steps, Baby Steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(whew) This really helped...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3933006584765238994?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3933006584765238994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3933006584765238994' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3933006584765238994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3933006584765238994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-need-to-write.html' title='I Need To Write'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3267572304300729288</id><published>2009-04-23T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T09:28:43.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(sigh)</title><content type='html'>Thats actually a good sigh. Like a breath of fresh air. For the past couple of months I have been what I call "Rolling Stoning." Just pretty much doing what the fuck I want to do. I had to get a way and clear my mind and refocus and recenter. Im getting there. Learning something different about myself everyday. I always joke with my mother about turning into the "into the wild" guy, but I would seriously consider doing something like that. But not to that extreme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past couple of months have made me realize even more that I DO NOT want to work for anybody else. If I am going to be slaving, day in and day out, living paycheck to paycheck, and barely making it, I want all that hard work to be put into establishing something of my own. I say something because I haven't gotten that far in my transformation. Baby steps, baby steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny because Im actually beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Like the lightbulb finally came on. And I realized that everything I was doing beforehand was me just doing something so that people would not be bothering me about "what Im doing with my life." But now I don't care. Like really. I didn't care before but Im respectful, and I was trying to please other people because I used to think that sometimes its just better to go ahead and do what somebody asks of you instead of not doing it and have to hear about it FOREVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fuck all that. I am only responsible for pleasing one person in life, and thats me. I didn't say God because he knows our relationship, and pleasing myself is akin to pleasing him. I know that in life I just want to be happy. If I can wake up every morning and not have to force a smile on my face then Im happy. Nothing in this world is permanent. Whats here today, may be gone tomorrow. So I enjoy life's moments and make the best of every situation thats placed before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is going the way I want it to in my life. Ive been looking for a job for the past 3 months with no luck. Ive had a couple of bullshit jobs but they were not something that I wanted to do, so I didn't do it. Simple as that. And I have a job offer back home waiting for me but I honestly dont want to take it because Im just going to be going back and doing exactly what I was doing when I left. And I left home mainly because I was tired of the same old shit and I didn't want to get stuck. And if I go back I feel like I am going to be stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out the other day that the only guy that I actually like, may have a girlfriend. MAYBE. Too much facebooking put me in a bad position because now I don't know what to do with him. I can't ask him about it because he doesnt know that I know.  Because of course he didn't tell me he had a girlfriend, but I know for a fact that Ive been talking to him longer than her. But he made her the girlfriend, not me. But if he still talks to me while he alledgely has a girlfriend, then do I really even wanna be the girlfriend? And then I don't know if I wanna keep talking to him because I do like him but I don't want to put myself in a position where I might get hurt. Its complicated. And long and drawn out. And I don't even like talking to guys who have girlfriends because I believe in karma and I want to have a good boyfriend some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have my car anymore. I really don't have anything. The only thing that I can say that I own is my cellphone. Its pretty much all I have to show for myself, as far as material things go. And its crazy because I don't care. I knew that I had to fall off, so that I could build myself back up. And thats the process that Im in right now, building myself back up. But this time being smarter about the decisions I make. Because in the past Ive made decisions based off how I was feeling at the moment. And at that moment, I didn't a fuck about school, when everything in my life was built on my being in school. But I didn't care and therefore I didn't achieve to the best of my ability and Im paying for it now. Which is fine, because at least I can say that I did what I wanted to do. CARTE BLANCHE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, I want to be able to say I lived my life how I wanted to. Thats all I want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3267572304300729288?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3267572304300729288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3267572304300729288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3267572304300729288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3267572304300729288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/04/sigh.html' title='(sigh)'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-233402160714771697</id><published>2009-02-28T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T13:15:13.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In My Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How You Gone Bench Your Star Player??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(This is for all guys, in words they can understand, who have or had a good girl in their life and just didn't realize it or took way too long.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was repping for the team when it had the worst record in franchise history.&lt;br /&gt;When everyone else seemed to lack motivation, she was playing hard in the paint for you every night.&lt;br /&gt;Never was late for or even missed practice for any reason.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, you would find her coming in early or leaving late just so she could practice her free throws and lay-ups.&lt;br /&gt;She has the mentality that "offense sells tickets, but defense wins games," so she doesn't focus on the losses, its all about the team, and her game.&lt;br /&gt;And it eventually pays off, and the team starts winning games, but thats also about the same time everything starts to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winning makes you greedy because you're constantly hungry for the attention that comes along with it.&lt;br /&gt;You win one, you wanna win another.&lt;br /&gt;Losing becomes your last option.&lt;br /&gt;So you start trying things out and moving people around, thinking that it is better for the franchise.&lt;br /&gt;Now everybody wants to be the star player.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants to come in early and leave late.&lt;br /&gt;With so many new options, you can make so many more new plays that you hope will win you more games, cause it is all about winning right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about losing your former star player?&lt;br /&gt;The one who was down to represent the franchise when nobody else cared.&lt;br /&gt;The one who was always on point from day one of being apart of the team.&lt;br /&gt;You had your very own Lebron James.&lt;br /&gt;You inadvertently made your former top starter, your number one bench warmer.&lt;br /&gt;Reducing her playing time, making her sub in and out only when the other players don't care about playing up to their full potential.&lt;br /&gt;Those players don't care about the team, they are their for the side show.&lt;br /&gt;They want the groupies, and VIP club access. They don't appreciate the team.&lt;br /&gt;So now your star player feels like her efforts are in vain.&lt;br /&gt;It is no need for her to try anymore because when she does you still treat her the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry about your star player because they're all pretty smart.&lt;br /&gt;While you think she's still repping, she's discussing trade options to be star player for someone else's franchise team.&lt;br /&gt;Whether you realize it or not, she understands that "offense sells tickets, but defense wins games."&lt;br /&gt;Its like how Kobe can drop 50 points in a half easy, but his team still lose the game.&lt;br /&gt;Cause without a Shaq to block shots, you won't get a championship ring.&lt;br /&gt;And by the 4th quarter, Game 7 of the Finals, you're gonna wish you had a star player on your team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-233402160714771697?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/233402160714771697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=233402160714771697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/233402160714771697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/233402160714771697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-my-mind.html' title='In My Mind'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-824678175162698497</id><published>2009-02-12T07:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T08:48:46.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Random Things About Me</title><content type='html'>Ive seen millions of people doing this on Facebook, here is mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I LOVE taking HOT showers. They are so refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ive been crying a lot lately, which is 100% times more than usual, since Im not a cryer AT ALL. But I've actually been crying in a way that is helping me, if that makes sense. Sometimes a good cry helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I haven't had a Valentine since the 7th grade, which is equivalent to not having a Valentine at all because it doesn't really count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I put on this front that I don't care about alot of stuff especially when it comes to guys, but I usually do. But from the self-fulfilling prophecy idea, I figure that if I tell myself I don't care, then eventually I won't. And it works because eventually I end up not caring forreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have never seen my father a day in my life. Never talked to him. I used to know what his name was but over the years I forgot. And I can honestly say that I don't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Im a Mama's Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I just started tearing up as Im writing this. I don't even know why. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Ever since this guy I met died in a freak accident, I worry that things like that are going to happen to my family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I hate college. Never liked it. Never felt like it was anything other than the next step after high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. But I regret not fully participating in the college experience. I should have went to a black school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I hate UNC for my own personal reasons and I refuse to wear any of my Carolina clothing or Carolina blue at all for that matter. And I vow never to step foot in Chapel Hill again once I graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Yes, I haven't graduated. And at this point, I don't really care whether I do or not. But I will, only because it would devastate my mother if I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I hate when people insinuate stuff about me that is completely out of my character. For example, this guy asked me if I was playing on his phone, and I got mad. Because I don't even like talking on the phone, number 1, and playing on the phone is some childish ass shit that Im just too grown to be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Speaking of guys, I hate when they assume that Im going to act just like the little childish ass girls they are used to dealing with, and so they treat me and talk to me as such. Fuck that. Im not a dumb female AT ALL. Im smart, for future reference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. The greatest thing a guy has ever said to me was, "I wish you was a dumb girl who would just do whatever I ask them to do." All I could do was smile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I hate the sound styrofoam makes when you move it or touch it. It makes me cringe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. My first tattoo will be the words Carte Blanch somewhere on my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I used to not really like light skinned guys, unless they were extra sexy. But now, since living in MD, I want me one so bad. lol. I see them all the time, with long ass ponytails, and hats. SEXY. I even used to hate hair on guys, I think I love it now. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I want some white friends. No disrespect to my black friends, but I be wanting to do some different shit, and experience some different things. Cause its so hard to get my black friends to do "white stuff," like karaoke, and skydiving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Lately, I have been going to sleep around 10-11 pm and waking up at 8:30 am. So Not me. My former hours were probably going to sleep around 3-4 am and waking up around 11 am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I read the dictionary. In fact, I was on Merriam-Webster.com looking up words the other day, FOR FUN. My vocabulary is impeccable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I hate wearing underwear. But I pretty much have to, so the only time I don't put any on is when I'm going to sleep or just chillin at home. I started wearing alot of thongs lately too. They are the closest thing to wearing nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I want to travel. Everywhere. From the smallest towns, to the most exotic of places. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. One of my legs used to be shorter than the other one because I broke one of my legs in the growth plate on a trampoline when I was younger. And I had to wait until my other one stopped growing before I could do anything about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I bought something for a guy for the first time in my life this past Christmas. And it was weird because I actually wanted to get him something, and I didn't care whether he got me something or not. I think I just like giving people stuff just so I can see their reactions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-824678175162698497?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/824678175162698497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=824678175162698497' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/824678175162698497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/824678175162698497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-random-things-about-me.html' title='25 Random Things About Me'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2427886200824624871</id><published>2009-02-12T07:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T07:30:56.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemmas</title><content type='html'>(I complain on here way too much...lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I need a JOB...ASAP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I Need My Car...BAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have a book/short story to write that should have been turned in yesterday. And I haven't started at all. (besides the basics of the plot and characters)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I have a paper due Friday for my history class, but my book is at home, and I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Valentines Day is coming up, and I need a date (or a victim)..lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. my hair needs to be cut...this is about the time of year that I start hating it because its growing out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I need some female friends...But DC Bitches...idk about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. My phone bill needs to be paid ASAP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. My appetite is fucked up from my Half-Baked Project (but plus side- Ive lost like 10 pounds) But it was from long days of being hungry, but I can't eat, because as soon as I take one bite of anything I feel full, and my stomach starts hurting, and I feel as if Im going to throw up, and I hate throwing up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. The only guy that I even remotely care for is acting stupid and we're beefing (well I'm beefing with him)...and its starting to make me not like him...forreal...and once I stop liking someone, its a wrap. I don't do second chances AT ALL... And to make matters even worse, I think my mother actually likes this guy, and she's never even met him. I know she likes him because she always asks me about him, and she never asks me about guys that she doesn't care too much for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on a good note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive still got my health, except for my eczema driving me slightly crazy with the itching. So I can't really complain. All of this is expected as I have FINALLY branched out and started moving forward with my life. For a while, Ive been at a standstill, but that had to stop because I will not be stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the grind...yeah Im on it...the struggle...yeah I feel it...But it will all be worth it...Things are working out, things are looking up...You gotta have the struggle, so you can appreciate the success right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL NOT LOSE (c) Jay-z&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2427886200824624871?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2427886200824624871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2427886200824624871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2427886200824624871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2427886200824624871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/02/dilemmas.html' title='Dilemmas'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8694570796877314458</id><published>2009-01-24T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T08:21:40.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHOA!!</title><content type='html'>Dec. 9th was my last post. I been slacking BIG TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even really have anything to say now. Its fairly early, Im up, but thats because I went to sleep at like 11 on a FRIDAY NIGHT. So not me. But TONIGHT, Im partying HARD. My bitches are coming to visit, (btw Im out of town AGAIN) so I know it will be a crazy night. I was suppose to get my hair done but my aunt is booked up today, so now Imma have to do something to this mess I call hair. And I need a new outfit. So my day will pretty much go as such...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shower ( if you remember I love showers lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put on Clothes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fix Hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to cousins house and wait for her to get ready (hours of waiting time im sure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to Mall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go back to the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get Dressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...the next couple of activites need not be mentioned...&lt;br /&gt;(I don't wanna tarnish my good girl reputation HAHA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shake my ass in the club&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...More activities that need not be mentioned...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG FOR THE NIGHT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="WIDTH: 300px"&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/83_3MONzXm/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/83_3MONzXm/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 1px; PADDING-LEFT: 1px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 1px; PADDING-TOP: 1px; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #e6e6e6"&gt;&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 4px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FLOAT: left; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 4px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" method="post"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox"&gt;&lt;input style="FONT-SIZE: 12px" type="submit" value="Search"&gt; &lt;div style="PADDING-TOP: 3px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;amp;ek=83_3MONzXm"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;amp;ek=83_3MONzXm"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;amp;ek=83_3MONzXm"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;amp;ek=83_3MONzXm"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/83_3MONzXm/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/charlier/music/oOXx9i5F/jamie_foxx_feat_busta_rhymes_lil_wayne_and_tpain_blame/"&gt;Blame It (Remix) - Jamie Foxx feat. Busta Rhymes, Lil Wayne And T-Pain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8694570796877314458?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8694570796877314458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8694570796877314458' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8694570796877314458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8694570796877314458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2009/01/whoa.html' title='WHOA!!'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8951708152373094731</id><published>2008-12-09T07:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T07:55:40.979-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA</title><content type='html'>yeah I know I've pretty much been MIA to this blog. But I'm good. I'm grinding. Doing a bunch of stuff that has to get done before the end of the year. And I'm in my second home state right now so the partying is in FULL EFFECT. I'm finally realizing that the shit I want in life is not gonna be handed to me. And once I'm done with this school shit, its poppin...life that is. Also I'm in party planning mode because Winter break is among us and all my friends are looking to me to have a good time. And I will not disappoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLA HOLLA HOLLA...LMAO...Oh yeah, my half-baked project is still in effect. Now I see how people lose so much weight from smoking weed. In the beginning you will probably eat everything in sight and I found out from one of my textbooks it is because something in the weed lowers your blood sugar and therefore makes you extrememly hungry. But after you smoke for a while, you eventually will not be hungry and cannot eat unless you smoke first. Its weird. Ive heard stories of this happening to people, but it never made sense to me because I usually get instantly hungry after I smoke. Well enough about weed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLA HOLLA HOLLA...lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8951708152373094731?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8951708152373094731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8951708152373094731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8951708152373094731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8951708152373094731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/12/mia.html' title='MIA'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2924720578576752710</id><published>2008-11-18T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T16:10:03.231-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Irate</title><content type='html'>Today I experienced something I never had before. Being stopped by the police and having my car searched. I was in the midst of taking my nephews to go see their grandmother when I was pulled over. I felt that it was about to happen as soon as I saw the police car, so I was not scared or nervous or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman comes to the car and does the usual, asking a million questions. Then he asks me one question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "Do you have any marijuana in this car?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "This car has a strong smell of marijuana. Have you been smoking"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he says Okay, and goes to his car. He comes back and asks me to step out of the car so he can ask me a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "Have you been smoking marijuana"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "My concern are your nephews. Your car smells of marijuana. So I'm going to give you two tests that will determine if you've been smoking or not"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does the tests, and at this point, I turn around and notice that he has called another cop for backup, and makes me perform the last test again. for the other cop..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "I'm going to ask you this again. Have you been smoking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No. I just left work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Cop: "Listen, just save yourself some time and trouble and tell us where the weed is. He smells it in your car, and he always finds it if he smells it. Either you can give us the weed, or we can take you downtown and perform a blood test to determine if you've been smoking or not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Did I fail the test or something"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Cop: "Yes, you indicated to us that you are under the influence of marijuana"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "how?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "Because your eyes flickered"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (blank stare)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Cop: "Where is the weed at? He is going to search your car now tell him where he can find the weed"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You can look but you will not find any weed in my car"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the cop searches my car, with my nephews in the car, and DOES NOT find any weed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cop: "Im going to let you off with a warning for speeding. For some reason your car smells of marijuana. There was alot of marijuana in this car at one time.  I saw an airfreshner under the seat. Most people use those to hide the smell of something. But since I didn't find anything you can go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I walked the fuck off mad as hell, got in my car, and sped the fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIRST of all my car DID NOT smell like weed AT ALL. Second of all, I always keep my car air freshners under my seat because I can still smell them without having to look at them. Third, there was never a large amount of weed in my car. Fourth, when the fuck did somebody develop a test to see if somebody was high. Normally a motherfucker LOOKS high, so if I was high, he would have been able to tell off top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that other cop was so fucking rude, it took everything I had in me not to curse that bitch out.  All in my face talking about, "JUST TELL HIM WHERE THE WEED IS" I am so BEYOND MAD right now because this just happened about 5:00. And I dont even remember their badge numbers or their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to add to that, my friend got pulled over yesterday and searched for weed. A girl. And the other night, my friends and I got pulled over when I was taking one of my cousins friends home. That cop was pleasant. My brake light was out and he let us go with a warning. But these cops today is the reason why black people DO NOT cooperate with cops. And add to the fact that they were white, makes me even more mad. I cannot hardly express the amount of anger I have right now. Like I can't even put it into words. All I can do is describe the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back with more. I am NOT done with this AT ALL...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2924720578576752710?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2924720578576752710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2924720578576752710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2924720578576752710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2924720578576752710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/11/irate.html' title='Irate'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1870637536209620126</id><published>2008-11-10T11:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:34:40.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Response to a Comment</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"well we better free our minds and recoginze the real. he is one man and although he sounded good and this is historic, america has to want to change, not to mention many of us negro comfortable up in here. i just hope the red states dont take us back pre 1960"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard so many people just simply talking about Obama in normal conversation. This weekend, my friend had a bday party, and a circle of guys were smoking weed and talking about Obama. I thought it was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think Obama is going to change the world. I know that real change is only gonna come when people, individually and collectively, decide to change. I really like Obama because he knows that too. He is always telling people to not only believe in his ability to change Washington, but our ability as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think that on January 20th my life is going to immediately get better. In fact, I think it will probably be near the end of Obama's 1st 4 year term before we see any real significant signs of change. I learned that hard times for the economy comes in cycles. We experience a rise in economy, then a boom, then a fall. With Clinton, the economy was falling, but its when Bush got into office, and the decisions he made, that put us into a recession, damn near depression. So thats about 16 years of work that Obama is going to have to reverse. He's not a miracle worker, he is just the President. But I believe he is going to be a great president. A historic president, if not for all times, especially for these times. And he is black, so when I tell my children they can be whatever they want to be, I really mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1870637536209620126?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1870637536209620126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1870637536209620126' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1870637536209620126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1870637536209620126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/11/response-to-comment.html' title='Response to a Comment'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5931630201485219403</id><published>2008-11-05T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:56:23.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265248989562559634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsDzzcXJI/AAAAAAAAB2g/uim6rP7qWm8/s320/b-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s.wsj.net/media/1105perceptions_HV_20081105064855.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 292px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 439px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://s.wsj.net/media/1105perceptions_HV_20081105064855.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the only word that I can use to describe what it means for me to have Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States of America...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My President is Black!! I can't say it enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, as I was pulling into the place where I would be voting, I started tearing up out of nowhere. I think it really hit me that what I was doing was going to be apart of history. As I am typing this I am tearing up because it is just beautiful that FINALLY, FINALLY, we seem to be moving forward as a nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not bare to even watch the election results as they unfolded but luckily through Facebook I was kept up to date with the election and when I received a phone call from my friend screaming on the other end, I knew. And I immediately let out a sigh of relief. I had been holding my breath all day for Obama. And to watch his speech last night was Amazing. I wish I could have been there. The look on his face was beautiful, his wife's face, his kids faces, the people's faces, BEAUTIFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will admit that I never followed Obama throughout the campaign. I went to an Obama Rally but that was more of a it just happened type thing. And last night was the first time I actually sat down and watched Obama speak. It was Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say this about McCain though, the part of his speech where he acknowledged that Obama winning was a historic and joyous occassion for African Americans was nice of him. At least he recognizes that. But I don't think he really understands. I didn't really understand until about two days ago how important this is. When I saw the status' on facebook and myspace about Obama, the pictures of the celebrations people had, it was just Beautiful. I literally tear up every single time I think about it. I can't say it enough- BEAUTIFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsECvyCUI/AAAAAAAAB2w/y5WqSdaXHPg/s1600-h/president3_081104_xwide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265248993573734722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsECvyCUI/AAAAAAAAB2w/y5WqSdaXHPg/s320/president3_081104_xwide.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsEF1ffqI/AAAAAAAAB2o/d7aZ9X-zjRg/s1600-h/bo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265248994402991778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsEF1ffqI/AAAAAAAAB2o/d7aZ9X-zjRg/s320/bo.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I LOVE THIS PICTURE!!!! (tear) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5931630201485219403?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5931630201485219403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5931630201485219403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5931630201485219403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5931630201485219403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/11/beautiful.html' title='Beautiful'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SRHsDzzcXJI/AAAAAAAAB2g/uim6rP7qWm8/s72-c/b-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7079432626050926929</id><published>2008-11-04T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T17:14:59.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Don't Fail Me America</title><content type='html'>I turned to Channel 11 thinking I was going to watch Jeopardy at 7 pm, and I saw exactly what I've been avoiding ALL DAY...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Election talks...results...it was Obama 3, McCain 8, when I turned to the channel. And I tried to watch it but after I saw that only 22% of Virginia's African American population voted, I couldn't bare to watch anymore. Only 22%??? Really? My people, My People. And will be the first ones complaining if something went terribly wrong and Obama doesn't become president. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't watch it. I'm too anxious to find out who is going to win that I'd rather just hear the results than to watch them as they unfold. Its too much for me. Because if Barack Obama does not win, I will be so hurt. It won't seem real. He has to win. He is the obvious winner. Please don't let me down America. Lets do something right for once. Just this once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7079432626050926929?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7079432626050926929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7079432626050926929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7079432626050926929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7079432626050926929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/11/please-dont-fail-me-america.html' title='Please Don&apos;t Fail Me America'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4217447199535420423</id><published>2008-10-27T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T12:50:35.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 9th</title><content type='html'>That was the date of my last post. I'm slacking HARD. But I have reason. I've been busy as hell. Between Schoolwork, Working, Buying Dress Clothes (that I am going to be re-imbursed for YAY), and chillin with friends, I haven't hardly been on the computer at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing big to update. I've still been on my Half Baked project. Going well. Have you ever been so tired where you couldn't even keep your eyes open? I never have until last Saturday. Being tired on weed, is totally different from just being tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HALLOWEEN is Friday, and I haven't gotten ANYTHING for my costume. That is so not me. I usually have my entire costume, down to the smallest accessory about 2 weeks ago. So I'm definitely gonna be scrounging around trying to piece everything together by Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Thursday, Im suppose to go to Maryland. But I found out yesterday that one of my bitches is having her birthday party celebration this Saturday. I don't want to miss it even though I know she won't mind because I been talking about going to Maryland for Halloween. But I'm going to feel bad for missing it. But I wanna go to Maryland for a couple of reasons...WHAT TO DO, WHAT TO DO??? Well I gotta decide by Wednesday at the latest. (sigh) Decisions, Decisions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on top of that, I'm SICK. Like so sick I couldn't even sleep last night. My eye is swollen. I look and feel like Shit. But I HAVE TO BE BETTER BY FRIDAY!!!!! So the orange juice, apple juice, medicine, tea, and all that good stuff is in full effect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4217447199535420423?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4217447199535420423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4217447199535420423' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4217447199535420423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4217447199535420423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-9th.html' title='October 9th'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8515232286654776041</id><published>2008-10-09T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:56:39.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Starting a New Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well another new one. But this one is more of a picture blog of my apparent "party lifestyle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://imapartygirlapparently.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://imapartygirlapparently.wordpress.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know anything about Wordpress but I always liked the sleekness of it. So I guess this blog will become my writing blog since I usually write more on here anyway. Speaking of writing, I have a draft to one of my books finished. Well more like a blueprint. I wrote the introduction, and have the outline of the book. Now I have to get into graphic design mode and see what I can pull together for my illustrations. My drawing skills are okay, if I'm doing 2-d things. Shading and all that other stuff is another story. But I should be fine. Now my novel I was writing is still on 8 pages since about 2 years ago. I just found it the other day, and I think I'm going to just write a few pages a day off the top of my head to get the ideas out and pick and choose which way I want it to go. If I could channel and focus my creative energy I would be great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8515232286654776041?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8515232286654776041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8515232286654776041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8515232286654776041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8515232286654776041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-starting-new-blog.html' title='I&apos;m Starting a New Blog'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-959564827365849966</id><published>2008-10-09T10:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:45:08.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I should be doing some work</title><content type='html'>I have to write a 500 word essay, which is really more like a paragraph to me, but I can't focus AT ALL. The topic is interesting enough, and I know I can knock this out in no time, but I can't focus AT ALL. I'm doing everything else but what I should be. As much as I try to get my mind on school, I just can't. Good thing I'm smart and don't really have to try so hard to do this work or I'd really be a failure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-959564827365849966?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/959564827365849966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=959564827365849966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/959564827365849966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/959564827365849966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-should-be-doing-some-work.html' title='I should be doing some work'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5697083062610927621</id><published>2008-10-09T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:40:39.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Many Guys Have You Slept With?</title><content type='html'>Uhhhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why guys ask you this question because they don't want to know the real answer. And no matter how you answer its gonna be problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First Scenario&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy: How many guys have you had sex with?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Ummm...&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Damn that many where you don't know off top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Second Scenario&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy: How many guys have you had sex with?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Probably like 20&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Damn. Thats alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Third Scenario:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy: How many guys have you had sex with?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Just 5&lt;br /&gt;Guy: You can tell me the truth. I know its more than 5.&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Naw, just 5, including you.&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that most guys expect girls to have slept with alot of guys, but they don't really want you to admit to it if you have. And if you haven't, they don't believe you. But I tell people all the time that its more about how long you've been having sex and the number of people you have had sex with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets say I've been having sex since I was in the 8th grade, and its been about 9 years since then and Ive had about 20 sexual partners. That means I'm only averaging about 2-3 new people I've had sex with each year, which is almost nothing in comparison. But saying 2-3 people a year sounds better than outright saying 20. Or even better than saying last year I messed with only 3 people but the year before I messed with like 10. See the average makes it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whenever guys ask me that question, I tell them the first time I've had sex, and then how many people after that. And I usually get the same response...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Damn, you doing better than me. I've been having sex since middle school and have fucked more than 100 girls now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't lose with my strategy. Unless your average is high as hell, but even then it shouldn't matter how many you people you have sex with, as long as you are smart about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5697083062610927621?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5697083062610927621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5697083062610927621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5697083062610927621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5697083062610927621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-many-guys-have-you-slept-with.html' title='How Many Guys Have You Slept With?'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5012479176629065816</id><published>2008-10-09T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:28:08.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tattoos instead of a Wedding Ring</title><content type='html'>I was reading an interview snippet from Essence magazine where Beyonce talks about the tattoos her and Jay-Z got instead of the typical wedding ring. (Which Im sure she also got too.). She talked about how wedding rings are just material and they are silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I agree. I don't even like wearing rings, at least not for extended periods of time. I don't even like wearing jewelery besides earrings, unless I'm going out. So I think I will get a band tattooed around my finger when I get married. Or some type of mutual symbol that my husband and I decide on. Thats more me than some wedding ring that will probably get me in trouble because I will never want to wear it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5012479176629065816?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5012479176629065816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5012479176629065816' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5012479176629065816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5012479176629065816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/tattoos-instead-of-wedding-ring.html' title='Tattoos instead of a Wedding Ring'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2070676894812981203</id><published>2008-10-09T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:02:20.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half Baked Project</title><content type='html'>Okay, so for the duration of my Half Baked Project I'm going to just write down all the "new" things I've experienced ON WEED...LMAO. That never gets old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Well first of all, I wore this scarf around my head yesterday. Not like my hair was wrapped, but around it like a headband. And I went into these two stores, one that I go into all the time, and one that I've never been to. And both guys working at the two different stores tried to holla at me. The first guy was fat, he stinks, and he creeps me out. I walked to get a juice and he just followed me, getting all in my personal space. And the other guy knows my friend and he was talking to her about me like I wasn't even standing right there. Asking my friend where was I from, was I from around here, why he hasn't seen me before, do I have a boyfriend, all these questions but I was standing RIGHT THERE. My friend and I came to the conclusion that it was the scarf that made them think I was one of them, Arab. (To be politically incorrect I'm sure). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Played Cards. And it was crazy because I was so high I couldn't count the cards to see if all of them were in the deck. And then I tried to get my friend to count them, and she couldn't do it either. Every time we counted, we was unsure of whether we counted it right. And we laughed. Plus the card design looked very psychedelic, and it was fucking with my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Watched Top Model. And it was hilarious. Way more funny than usual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Watched 90210. And it seemed more real than it usually does. Well some parts of it. They still talk to each other weird but as far as the action of the episode, it was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the Grocery Store and my friend and I bought a box of cereal a piece and some biscuits. LOL. And it was like 10:55, the store closes at 11, and the manager was looking at us weird and finally said, "Yall must be having a good night to come all the way to the store to get some cereal and biscuits at 11." LMAO. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be continuing my research today. I'm going to a party tonight. Should be fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2070676894812981203?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2070676894812981203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2070676894812981203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2070676894812981203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2070676894812981203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/half-baked-project_09.html' title='Half Baked Project'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4985069654754606383</id><published>2008-10-08T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T11:32:37.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>My Favorite Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been narrowing down my costume choices. And I cannot decide what I want to be for Halloween. This is serious business for me. I have always loved Halloween because it is one day where I can dress up and be somebody else. No restrictions, I can be as weird as I want, sexy as I want, goofy-looking as I want. The more outrageous the better. I LOVE IT...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Previous Halloweens I was a devil, schoolgirl, and Harajuku Girl. This year I want to do something different. Be something different. But since I'm going out to the club or maybe a concert that night, I don't really wanna wear anything extensive. So I have narrowed it down to a few things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady Cop (My mother wants me to be this just because of the Lil Wayne Song LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flapper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian Queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Construction Girl (think Heidi from Tool Time, expect I'm not tryna wear Tims in the club)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday Addams (the more sexed up version)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all I got for now. I'm leaning more towards the Cop, and Wednesday Addams but I saw some Flapper costumes today that would be so cute. I may even do a day costume and then a night costume. Since I don't think walking around half naked would  go well for a day time look. But either, Im too excited. I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4985069654754606383?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4985069654754606383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4985069654754606383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4985069654754606383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4985069654754606383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2366210845015184458</id><published>2008-10-07T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T21:51:17.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Half-Baked Project</title><content type='html'>I borrowed "Half-Baked" from my brother and everytime I watch it, I realize how much I love it. And the part of the movie where they describe the different types of smokers, I relate to the one played by Jon (I can't think of his last name). They type his character as an enhancement smoker who believes that everything is better when you're "on weed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever watched Pulp Fiction?...Well have you ever watched Pulp Fiction ON WEED??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LMAO...Don't quote me.  But I think I am an enhancement smoker with a slight case of the Hungry/I'm sleepy smoker. But I find myself thinking and looking at things very differently when I have been smoking. N.E.R.D talks about seeing sounds but when I listen to music when Im high, I feel like Im seeing sounds. Not literally seeing things, but I can listen, and actually hear EVERYTHING. And zone out on the music, and just listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also everyday things seem much better. The appeal of things on TV increases dramatically when I'm high although I find myself just laughing at shit because it usually makes no sense at all. Commercials are more funny, and then ones like "I am made of gold" become pure hysteria to me. Talking with friends when you're high is fun. I'm not a real heavy smoker, in fact, I really only smoke with a few people and very recently I just started letting those people look at me while I smoked. I used to go into another room or hide my face because I don't think the image of a girl smoking is cute, in any form or fashion. So I tell people that while I don't mind you knowing I smoke, seeing me smoke is another issue. They can say they know that I smoke but they can't say that they've ever seen me smoke. And very few people have ever actually seen me smoke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidetracked...But I really do believe that being high can make alot of situations more interesting. TMI moment approaching...Also when I'm high, I get horny. This is my pattern of highness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoke&lt;br /&gt;Zone Out&lt;br /&gt;Get Hungry&lt;br /&gt;Get Horny&lt;br /&gt;(and lately)&lt;br /&gt;Go to Sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is but you know how some people say Alcohol makes you horny, well weed does it for me. Like after I smoke, I literally just wanna fuck. Reminds me of the Lil wayne song...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know about yall, but I'm really really fucked up, no more liquor in my cup, I guess its time for us to, time for us to, time for us to fuck..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah pretty much, minus the liquor, add the weed. TMI I know. Sorry. Alcohol just makes me crunk and the after effects (hangovers) are enough for me to think about quitting drinking forever. But usually just think about it, never actually do it. I am a social drinker but I think the longest time I have gone without drinking was a Terrible Everclear experience that stopped my drinking cold turkey for about 2.5 months, which is great, considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I've been sidetracked, but what I have come to say is I am embarking on a research project of my own for about 2 months where I will try and experience things ON WEED, lol. Normal everyday fun things that I enjoy and would probably have a more enhanced experience if I were ON WEED. Such as the movies, Saw 5 (?)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever watched the Saw movies?...Ever watched the Saw movies ON WEED??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LMAO...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2366210845015184458?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2366210845015184458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2366210845015184458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2366210845015184458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2366210845015184458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/half-baked-project.html' title='The Half-Baked Project'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5281614986400630819</id><published>2008-10-03T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T19:12:52.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doubled Over in Laughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote for Today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Groupie disguised as a Fan"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"More like a Stan disguised as...well...a Stan. You know the bitch can't dress."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...I am SO DONE for tonight. Dying Laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good nite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5281614986400630819?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5281614986400630819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5281614986400630819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5281614986400630819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5281614986400630819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/doubled-over-in-laughter.html' title='Doubled Over in Laughter'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2108455974134890467</id><published>2008-10-01T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T19:58:13.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Favorite Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/197034248de85177/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sticky Face by Trey Songz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;found&gt;found @ &lt;a href="http://pchats.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;pchats.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;UPDATE: I've listened to the song. LOVES IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I haven't even listened to it yet but I know I don't need to. For one, its Trey Songz and he has an AMAZING VOICE, and for two, he's talking about eating pussy. Done. Trey Songz for President.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2108455974134890467?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2108455974134890467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2108455974134890467' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2108455974134890467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2108455974134890467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-new-favorite-song.html' title='My New Favorite Song'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4412099973041539095</id><published>2008-10-01T12:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T12:44:36.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Current Dilemmas</title><content type='html'>I have not been outside my house since Sunday, and I don't have even the slightest urge to step outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birth Control costs me $30 a pack. I could get it for free from the clinic but they can't fit me in for an appointment until the end of the month. So I've been off my BC for the past month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I haven't been having sex, which is another dilemma in itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some surplus money because I need some new clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My textbooks won't be getting here for another couple of days, and I need to do my assignments ASAP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I owe my aunt $850 and I can pay her back this month, I just don't want to. I never have any surplus money and as soon as I get some, I have to give it back. Life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother's car died so she has to use mine now, which leaves me without one. Which is why I've turned into a lazy bum. And I just realized today that if I wanted to just up and leave for a week or two, I can't anymore. Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the perfect weight loss idea, but Im lacking the motivation,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4412099973041539095?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4412099973041539095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4412099973041539095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4412099973041539095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4412099973041539095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-current-dilemmas.html' title='My Current Dilemmas'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1199533015938114775</id><published>2008-10-01T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:22:45.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few key moments from this past weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rehab &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I've never really partied at a club where the majority of the people were white. But I LOVED it. Its a completely different scene but still fun nonetheless. One advantage of partying with white people is you can do anything in the club and it won't matter because everbody in there is doing something ridiculous looking and they don't give a fuck. I saw guys dropping it, shimmying, and a couple ferociously making out for at least 15 minutes on the dance floor. I went to the bathroom and there was a girl in there bleeding to death because somebody dropped a beer bottle on her foot. And all I remember her saying is "I promise I don't have AIDS" LMAO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jurnee Smollet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- She was extremely crunk. She walked into the room and immediately started dancing. She dropped it to the floor, started krumping and did the Cupid Shuffle. Very nice fun girl. I love seeing celebrities in this manner. It brings them back to life for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sleepy Weed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Ever smoked some weed and immediately got sleepy? I've experienced smoking and then immediately getting hungry but not sleepy. It was Friday night, still fairly early, and all we wanted to do was go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21st Birthday Party&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-One of my favorite cousins turned 21. A few highlights. Cheddar bay biscuits, shots of patron, platinum, Gucci, Surprise Bday party, throw up in the living room and bathroom floor, people throwing up on each other, cupcake frosting all over EVERYTHING, a couple having a very intimate argument showcased to a room full of people, real talk discussions, falling asleep under the bed, losing a shoe, the list goes on...SEVERE HANGOVER THE NEXT DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't have done this past weekend any better...GREATNESS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1199533015938114775?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1199533015938114775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1199533015938114775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1199533015938114775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1199533015938114775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/few-key-moments-from-this-past-weekend.html' title='A few key moments from this past weekend'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3625568126508455603</id><published>2008-10-01T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:11:28.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"It ain't tricking if you got it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Because EVERYBODY is saying it. I first heard Wayne say it. But then T-Pain in "Can't Believe It," T.I. in "Whatever You Like," Ludacris in "I know what them girls like," and who knows who else...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3625568126508455603?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3625568126508455603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3625568126508455603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3625568126508455603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3625568126508455603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/10/apparently.html' title='Apparently'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2781153235958715000</id><published>2008-09-24T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T11:15:34.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change of Heart</title><content type='html'>(Remember that show???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so this weekend, I met an old flame and missed my chance to rekindle. blah blah blah. But then I got to see him the next day, and realized why our flame was put out in the first place. Friday night he was SO DIFFERENT from what I remembered him to be. He said some stuff to me that was WAY out of his character. And since I haven't seen him in so long, I thought maybe he had changed. It was weird, I kept looking at him trying to figure out if he was drunk or something because THAT was not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then Saturday, we meet up and a switch in conversation revealed why he was acting "different" the night before. So I was rubbing on his head and his chest and stuff, nothing major. I used to do it all the time because he hated it and I was doing it just to annoy him. He never liked for me to feel on him because he is skinny and he claims I have nothing to touch. But I like skinny guys, so it was cool. So as I'm rubbing on him he says...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him: "Are you rolling?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No. I don't pop pills"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "You know when you rollin, you wanna feel and touch everything"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Now granted I was a little drunk and possibly high, But I was NOT Rollin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: "Naw I don't pop pills, I'm too scared for that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Oh. I was rollin last night. My boy gave me a ex pill and I took it. It took me like an hour to get home last night I was so fucked up, especially after I smoked&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when he said this it all hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: "So thats why you was saying all that stuff to me last night that was so not you. I knew something was wrong with your ass. I thought you was drunk but you was too calm to be drunk, and a little too happy happy joy joy to be high."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Yeah I was Fucked up"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll just end the conversation there. He was completely sober that second night and he was acting just like the person I remembered. And it took me right back to why I stopped talking to him in the first place. We would never get anywhere in a relationship. He is not boyfriend material for me even though I think he is the sweetest guy I've ever talked to. So my thoughts of rekindling an old flame are over. Whew!!! that was fast huh? lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2781153235958715000?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2781153235958715000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2781153235958715000' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2781153235958715000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2781153235958715000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/change-of-heart.html' title='Change of Heart'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-6625543238392673315</id><published>2008-09-20T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T12:50:01.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Missed My Chance</title><content type='html'>To rekindle with an old flame. I had the chance. It was RIGHT THERE in my face last night. I mean RIGHT THERE. Like I literally had the ball in my court and what do I do? I DROP IT. Well maybe not dropped it, but more like how in Love &amp; Basketball when the girl was punished for keeping her hand up after making the shot. I was blinded by something else that I completely let him slip away. DAMN DAMN DAMN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing about it is that I have a way to get back in touch with him. I guess. I have his number but Im not the calling type. So I don't know how that is gonna work. MAN, I kinda regret last night but it may have been for the good. I kinda played the "I still kinda like you, but I'm not on your shit" role. But I'm not sure if thats how it was interpreted by him. He probably thought I didn't give a fuck. Oh well, we will see what happens tonight. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-6625543238392673315?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/6625543238392673315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=6625543238392673315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6625543238392673315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6625543238392673315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-missed-my-chance.html' title='I Missed My Chance'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7191232499797972396</id><published>2008-09-19T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T12:06:01.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!!! This is INSANE!!!</title><content type='html'>A Dayton, Ohio woman will spend the rest of her life in prison for cooking her 28-day-old baby in a microwave oven after fighting with her boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge Mary Wiseman sentenced China Arnold, 28, to life in prison without the possibility of parole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No adjectives exist to adequately describe this heinous atrocity,” Judge Wiseman said. “This act is shocking and utterly abhorrent for a civilized society.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arnold told prosecutors she intentionally placed Paris Talley in the microwave and burned her alive after arguing with her live-in boyfriend. The argument was over the paternity of the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arnold’s first hearing in 2005 ended in a mistrial after a young witness came forward to say he saw an 8-year-old boy take the baby into a nearby apartment and heard the microwave go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The witness said he later saw the burned baby in the microwave oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arnold was convicted of aggravated murder in her second trial last month after the boy’s mother testified they were not in Arnold’s home on the day the baby was killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arnold, who has four other children, waived her right to be present in court during her sentencing hearing on Monday. Instead, she watched the proceedings on a monitor in a side room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge Wiseman rejected a plea from Arnold’s lawyers to allow for parole after 25 years. Arnold’s lawyers said their client’s former cellmate changed her previous testimony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cellmate originally testified that Arnold told her she microwaved the baby because she feared her boyfriend would leave her if he found out he was not the biological father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A jury last week spared Arnold the death penalty when it couldn’t reach an agreement on the sentence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7191232499797972396?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7191232499797972396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7191232499797972396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7191232499797972396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7191232499797972396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/omg-this-is-insane.html' title='OMG!!! This is INSANE!!!'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5076873665586346360</id><published>2008-09-18T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T11:35:03.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A sentence from my Social Problems textbook</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Both Latinas and African Americans women are more likely than white women to work in service occupations such as private household workers. Although private household work has become less common among African American women in the last two decades..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me think about the time I was looking for a job and someone at Career Services at my school suggested that I apply for one of the numerous housekeeper jobs located throughout the town where my school is located. The conversation went something like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Counselor: "There are alot of housekeeper positions that you could apply for."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Housekeeper, as in maid?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Counselor: "Well....yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (laugh) naw thats aight. I'll just starve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was NOT that desparate for a job, and I never will be. She must have been crazy if she thought I was gonna be cleaning up after some white people everyday. She must have never heard the details of slavery. I refuse to partake in any slave-like activities. Martin Luther King fought too hard for me to be working as a maid in some white persons house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5076873665586346360?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5076873665586346360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5076873665586346360' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5076873665586346360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5076873665586346360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/sentence-from-my-social-problems.html' title='A sentence from my Social Problems textbook'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-6710370342901486756</id><published>2008-09-16T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T20:05:32.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Janet is Wild...and I LOVE IT!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k0Hl7oltMsc&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k0Hl7oltMsc&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;She freaked him. GOOD. I bet money he nutted on himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me wanna go to a Janet Jackson show and see what other type of things go on there. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-6710370342901486756?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/6710370342901486756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=6710370342901486756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6710370342901486756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6710370342901486756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/janet-freaked-shit-out-of-this-guy.html' title='Janet is Wild...and I LOVE IT!!!'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1672420119125135273</id><published>2008-09-16T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T12:02:52.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Slacking ALREADY</title><content type='html'>I need some motivation TERRIBLY. I'm not behind, I'm just not ahead as I had planned to be. (sigh) Guess some things never change. I can't seem to get into my schoolwork. I can do it, no problem. I just don't seem to care about it. And all my classes are interesting enough to me where I find myself reading more than I have to. I probably could sit down and read my textbooks in one sitting, thats how interesting the classes are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I can't seem to get into the idea of due dates, doing discussion board postings, studying for quizzes, and all that other "extra" stuff that comes along with taking classes. I so wish I could just learn for the sake of learning. I'd probably do much better. Because learning for tests only make me do just that--learn just enough for the test. I think after I get my degree, I'm going to continue to take classes, but I may just audit them. Where I will take them for personal enjoyment and no grade. Some say its a waste of money, and I agree. But shit, I have a friend with a $100,000 forensic science degree (which she paid for in loans that she is going to have to pay back) and she graduated in May and still does not have a job. Now that is a waste of money to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that made me think about all the people who ask me what my major is and I say "Sociology" and then they always ask, "so what are you going to do with that." And I'm like, "I'm going to graduate with it." And then they all look at me crazy, so I change my story to "Oh I'm probably gonna go to grad school, get my masters, and maybe my doctorate one day since I am a Gates Millenium Scholar and they will pay for my schooling." That answer always gets people off my back. But I have no true intentions to do anything with my sociology degree specifically. I don't necessarily want to be a social worker, I would. But I don't really want to go back to school and get my masters just yet, if at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess next time somebody asks me what I'm going to do with my degree I will say, "I'm going to use my degree to get an entry level job that I know I could do without my degree but they require me to have it. Then I will work my way up in the company, and save enough money to pay off debts and build my credit back up. And then hopefully be able to quit and start a business or some type of venture on my own. With my own rules, own time, own money, ALL ME." Then they will probably ask, "What type of business venture?" And I will respond, "I'm not sure yet. Maybe a strip club, an arts and craft shop, or maybe I can make a documentary of me traveling the world passing out free condoms, and other forms of birth control. Who know? But I know I will love doing it, whatever it is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can imagine the blank stares and "oh's" I will get from that answer...LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1672420119125135273?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1672420119125135273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1672420119125135273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1672420119125135273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1672420119125135273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-slacking-already.html' title='I&apos;m Slacking ALREADY'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-355034243721550949</id><published>2008-09-15T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T11:54:21.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rich People have it SO Easy...LOL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/adc/10204355A~Exercise-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/adc/10204355A~Exercise-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-355034243721550949?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/355034243721550949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=355034243721550949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/355034243721550949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/355034243721550949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/rich-people-have-it-so-easylol.html' title='Rich People have it SO Easy...LOL'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3168039858019394689</id><published>2008-09-13T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T18:59:07.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is MY SHIT!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Love GoGo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/ua3C5H3ay4/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/ua3C5H3ay4/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/gogohead08/music/F6PRw-lF/ccb_fight_anthem/"&gt;Fight Anthem - CCB&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3168039858019394689?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3168039858019394689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3168039858019394689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3168039858019394689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3168039858019394689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-is-my-shit.html' title='This is MY SHIT!!!!'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7528481397033288428</id><published>2008-09-13T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T17:10:51.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Week Run-Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i153/mchanne69/HaveAGoodWeek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i153/mchanne69/HaveAGoodWeek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thanx Sam...And I did!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started my other two classes this week. They shouldn't be too bad, so thats great. I just have to stay on top of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to work 2 out of the 5 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a second job. Although temporary, I will love the money it will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call to come in for an interview for what would be a 3rd job, but I probably won't take it now. I gotta focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made Chicken Fajitas, Fried Shrimp, Chicken Tenders, Breakfast Casserole(potatoes, onions, green peppers, sausage, ham, cheese), BBQ Cheeseburgers, Cubed Steak and some other stuff I can't really remember. I love cooking now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a party Friday with a couple of good friends. Had a Blast. Some dude passed out from being too hot and too drunk. And I didn't have a hangover the next morning. YAY ME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my house phone and internet service today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably won't be doing too much today, but if I do and its worth talking about, I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7528481397033288428?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7528481397033288428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7528481397033288428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7528481397033288428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7528481397033288428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-week-run-down.html' title='My Week Run-Down'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2058320706206855000</id><published>2008-09-13T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T16:54:25.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't that Chameleon Cute?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://lifeboat.com/images/chameleon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://lifeboat.com/images/chameleon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The takeover, the breaks over, homie, God MC, ME, J-HOVA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That has nothing to do with what I came here to write, it was just on my mind, so I decided to write it. What I came to talk about is Chameleons. Not necessarily the animal, but the metaphorical use of the term chameleon to describe a person. Lets take a look at what Wikipedia has to say about describing a person as a chameleon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"When a person is described as chameleon, the reference to the animal is generally a commentary on the person's ability to blend into various social situations, often to mean the person has no true values, or that he quickly abandons them in company if it's convenient to do so." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Lets now take a look and pick apart this descriptive definiton. A few key phrases I would like to go in-depth about are "no true values," "abandons," and "convenient."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No True Values&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my experience people who act as chameleons don't really have any set values that they live their life by. A person could pretty much convince them to do just about anything. I don't mean anything drastic such as killing someone, but something that really bares no extenuating consequences, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abandons &amp;amp; Convenient&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost certain that a person with chameleon like qualities will no doubt take the opportunity to abandon you if the situation is convenient for them. Because I have found that they usually don't care about anybody but themselves. They may appear as friends, as long as it is of some type of benefit to them. But when they see an opportunity that they think is better than what you can offer them, they are quick to leave you high and dry, usually with no explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Conclusion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, on the other hand, have been taught, or either through experience, have been conditioned to think of others, as well as myself, when in situations where both people matter. I would never do anything without asking if my accompanying party is comfortable with the decision I am making. Because I believe that if you're with me, you should at least be comfortable. And I will go out of my way to ensure your comfortability(?). Or if you're with me, I would never put the needs of myself before the needs of everyone as a whole. But I will also let you know what you're getting into with me from the beginning so there will be no surprises. I am a fairly consistent medium emotion person. What you see is what you get. You can expect that how I was yesterday is going to be how am I tomorrow, and every day after that. And I've had to learn that not everybody is like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in conclusion, I've come to recognize the chameleons who I've let into my life, even if only for a glimpse (Even though I rarely give anyone outside my family and good friend the full screening).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Advice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can view themselves as other people do (I wish we could though). You can only hope that you have people around you who aren't afraid to let you know when you are stepping outside of your boundaries. (my mom takes on that role for me) But thats rarely the case. So just as a tip, its okay to think about others sometime. I faithfully live by the rule that I live for me, and not anybody, and that I am the only person who really matters to myself. BUT I do live with other people in the world, and I like people, and I like people who like me back. So to make people like me back, I treat them as I treat myself. With concern for their feelings and well-being. Nobody likes to have their flaws thrown in their face, but the sooner you recognize that you're not being the best person you can be, the quicker you can make the effort to change it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, Nobody likes a selfish ass bitch/nigga. So Stop It.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2058320706206855000?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2058320706206855000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2058320706206855000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2058320706206855000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2058320706206855000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/nothing-really.html' title='Isn&apos;t that Chameleon Cute?'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3661036354414615168</id><published>2008-09-12T10:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T11:49:23.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Was Propositioned This Past Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/m1lfb8/ThreesomeStereo-1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b92/m1lfb8/ThreesomeStereo-1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A friend of mine asked me to have a threesome with him and a girl that he knows would be down to have a threesome with us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My first reaction was: "Who is the girl?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tells me her name and then I realize that I've seen or heard that name before. It is a girl that he currently talks to or has sex with, whatever. But he doesn't know I know of her. (His text message alert went off on his phone and we have the same ringtone for texts and the same phone so I thought it was mine and without really looking at the phone, I saw a text from a girl that read "hey babe, you didn't call me back...blah blah blah")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Second Reaction: "Have you fucked her?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His answer was "No," and then I asked again, "Have you fucked her?" His second chance answer was then changed to "Yes." Why he lied the first time, I don't know. But I did think it was kinda cute that he felt he should lie to me. But what he doesn't know is I know he has sex with other girls. He is not my boyfriend so he is allowed to do what he wants. I found it cute that he lied because that tells me he somewhat cares about my feelings. Or either he thought I was gonna spaz out if I found out he was fucking some other girl. SO NOT MY STYLE. And it was obvious that he had sex with her before because if he didn't then he wouldn't have been so sure that she would have a threesome with us. DUH!! I have to remind him sometime that I am NOT a dummy. I can put 2 and 2 together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Third Reaction: "Call her up"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said this only to see what his next move was going to be. Being that it was already like 5 am, he replied "No. Some people sleep at night, unlike you." HILARIOUS. And then he proceeds to tell me that he is a freak, (like I didn't already know that), and that he wants to have a threesome before he decided to "settle down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fourth Reaction: "I'm not having a threesome with you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This probably broke his heart. But my reasons for saying No to him make sense to me. For one, having a threesome with a girl that he talks to would be awkward for obvious reasons. If we both talk to him then who gets to stay once the threesome is over? And Im not leaving, and we're both not staying cause he is NOT a pimp, and I won't give him any more bragging rights than a threesome would already give him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he was just a little too excited when I didn't instantly shut down the idea of a threesome. I'm not a prude, so if I were to ever engage in a threesome, I would rather it be with a Boyfriend or someone who is damn near my boyfriend (without the title type thing). And he is NOT currently anything close to a boyfriend, even though we act like boyfriend/girlfriend when we are around each other. I don't know, he was just TOO excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In Conclusion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a rule that when dealing with guys who aren't my boyfriend, I can't give them too much. You can't get ALL the perks at once, you have to earn them. Because if we do everything that boyfriend/girlfriends do without actually being BF/GF, then he will feel that theres no need for him to "settle down" with me. I let him know that I like him, and that Im not on his shit either. I do this by going home with him when I leave the club, but also letting him know how many times I gave my number out that night. Or I answer my phone whether he is around or not, but I don't talk long so I remain respectful. Or if I have to, I do the "Super Ultra Ultra Sexy" thing where I get all dolled up to go out, making sure that he sees how Sexy I'm looking, and show him he shouldn't take all this fineness for granted. But then I do things like fix him breakfast, give massages, all the sweet stuff. But not spoiling him, just giving him a taste of what he could have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And point blank, I think a Threesome would be spoiling him. So until we advance in our relationship, No Threesome action for him. Sorry boo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3661036354414615168?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3661036354414615168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3661036354414615168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3661036354414615168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3661036354414615168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-was-propositioned-this-past-weekend.html' title='I Was Propositioned This Past Weekend'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-10041043359905346</id><published>2008-09-10T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:00:13.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsk Tsk Tsk Jordin Sparks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For even letting a statement like this come out of your mouth... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I just have one thing to say about promise rings. It's not bad to wear a promise ring because not everybody, guy or girl, wants to be a slut."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wear your promise ring hunny!! Wear it proudly. In fact, props to you for even committing to something like that with all the fine sexy men gracing this earth. You don't know what you're missing. But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take offense to this statement because I never wore a promise ring, and I never made the committment to not have sex until marriage, but I AM NOT a SLUT. Well at least I don't think I am, some hoes I know would beg to differ, but fuck them. Again I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But having sex doesn't make you a slut sweetie. It makes your butt bigger. LOL. Naw I'm playing, I'm not sure if thats been proven yet. But your decision to not have sex DOES NOT make you any better than someone elses decision to NOT have sex. The people who make the decision to have sex for the wrong reasons and make bad sex decisions make the people like ME, who chose to have sex for the right reasons look bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since you've never had sex I can't expect you to see my point that Sex can be great. So I won't even go into detail about it. But I will say that I know you're probably doing the whole promise ring thing for religious purposes and I respect that. Some people just chose to go a different route. You know God looks down on you judging other people by their actions too right? I don't judge you. And you shouldn't judge me because I have to test drive my car before I buy it. I'm just saying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Knows I love him. He knows I want to do the right thing. And when I don't he forgives me and loves me the same. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.imnotobsessed.com/more/jordinsparks-pure.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-10041043359905346?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/10041043359905346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=10041043359905346' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/10041043359905346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/10041043359905346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/tsk-tsk-tsk-jordin-sparks.html' title='Tsk Tsk Tsk Jordin Sparks'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4491955602396619176</id><published>2008-09-10T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:17:16.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fellow HomeTowner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.andrewmarlin.com/images/andrew-in-studio425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.andrewmarlin.com/images/andrew-in-studio425.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.andrewmarlin.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;http://www.andrewmarlin.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cool Ass White Boy if I do say so Myself...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;He has this song that I remember hearing at my brothers house probably 2 years or more ago, that is just beautiful. I wish I could remember it. Because it was absolutely beautiful. And theres this other song too. Damn, I always hear his music playing at my brothers house. Maybe I'll get the CDs from him one day and actually find out what they are. But I wish Andrew much much much success, not only because we are from the same town, but because he is a great musician. If you like that folk/acoustic/guitary music feel, you'll love him. I've been trying my best to catch one of his shows, but I blame my brother. He never tells me until its too late. I think because he doesn't want me to go with him, but its cool, one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4491955602396619176?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4491955602396619176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4491955602396619176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4491955602396619176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4491955602396619176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/fellow-hometowner.html' title='A Fellow HomeTowner'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8258407629769569458</id><published>2008-09-10T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:06:44.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Smoking Music (If you Smoke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://l.yimg.com/img.tv.yahoo.com/tv/us/img/site/85/74/0000048574_20080513114316.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://l.yimg.com/img.tv.yahoo.com/tv/us/img/site/85/74/0000048574_20080513114316.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://z.about.com/d/top40/1/0/N/n/shwayze.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://z.about.com/d/top40/1/0/N/n/shwayze.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I Heart Shwayze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8258407629769569458?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8258407629769569458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8258407629769569458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8258407629769569458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8258407629769569458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/great-smoking-music.html' title='Great Smoking Music (If you Smoke)'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-741917370348708881</id><published>2008-09-10T10:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:05:20.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Favorite White Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drownedmadonna.com/public/katy_perry02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.drownedmadonna.com/public/katy_perry02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Katy Perry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Her Music is Lovely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(well all the songs that I've heard so far)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-741917370348708881?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/741917370348708881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=741917370348708881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/741917370348708881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/741917370348708881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-new-favorite-white-girl.html' title='My New Favorite White Girl'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-6895007753109397279</id><published>2008-09-10T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T09:44:00.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MoveOn.org Political Action</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="https://pol.moveon.org/images/obama-head-shirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://pol.moveon.org/images/obama-head-shirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="https://political.moveon.org/obamatshirts/index.html?id=-10540184-QQGoLXx&amp;amp;enc_min=UmFuZG9tSVZqaqOE6ofFwy7OWabKclK%2B%2F8UhRfEJ%2FfY%3D-5vYWJCHsQ9UZtwQSfr40AQ"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;$8 Obama Shirts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to registering half a million young voters in swing states, MoveOn.org is almost giving away Obama t-shirts at the smallest donation of $8 to their young-voter registration program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-6895007753109397279?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/6895007753109397279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=6895007753109397279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6895007753109397279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6895007753109397279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/moveonorg-political-action.html' title='MoveOn.org Political Action'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5059509113956699456</id><published>2008-09-10T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T09:28:58.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALLY!! I've hit the $100 mark</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://alphabeticaprime.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/100_dollar_bill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://alphabeticaprime.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/100_dollar_bill.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make money off of Google Adsense is hard when you don't really wanna put all those irrelevant ads all over your blog because it makes your page look extremely messy. And being someone who enjoys controlled abstractness, and symmetry, I can't do the whole "Click my ads and make me money" thing all over my blog. So I kinda forgot ALL ABOUT Google Adsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until about a week or so ago, I checked it and saw that I had made like around $80 since Decemeber 2007. SLOW PROCESS. But I'm like shit, I've made it this far let me see what i can do to boost my money making without having to go ad crazy. So I added the Youtube video unit to my blog. Then I forgot about that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until yesterday, when I decided to check and see how it was doing, and much to my surprise, I was past the $100 mark. Which means Google is going to be sending MY BLACK ASS a CHECK!!! And it will be just in time for Thanksgiving. hahaha. Which in comparision to now, is kinda long ways away. But whatever, I can wait on free money. No biggie. And I'm not sure how much of the $100 I am actually gonna receive being that I had to fill out tax forms and all that shit. So we'll see...Google I need at least $50, so I can get a Turkey and feed my family for Thanksgiving...LOL...OK maybe not, but a sob story never hurts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5059509113956699456?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5059509113956699456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5059509113956699456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5059509113956699456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5059509113956699456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/finally-ive-hit-100-mark.html' title='FINALLY!! I&apos;ve hit the $100 mark'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4046879959739257554</id><published>2008-09-10T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:31:24.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>N.E.R.D is coming to NC</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.wegotcards.com/cards/friends/insults/nerd.GIF"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.wegotcards.com/cards/friends/insults/nerd.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;October 3rd @ NC State&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I'm tryna be there...TRYING...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4046879959739257554?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4046879959739257554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4046879959739257554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4046879959739257554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4046879959739257554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/nerd-is-coming-to-nc.html' title='N.E.R.D is coming to NC'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3765254793834574415</id><published>2008-09-08T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T21:50:22.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Eventful Weekend</title><content type='html'>I went to my current favorite place this past weekend to celebrate 50 years of life with my uncle. I had major fun. I got dressed up real cute and had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousins and I also hit up the club, Love. We were EXTREMELY late arriving to the club. I think we probably got there at like 1:30. But we partied hard once we finally made it in there. And that night I continued the party at a friends house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A few choice phrases of the weekend...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not driving onto an island"&lt;br /&gt;-said while driving around DC lost as hell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cousin: "Whats wrong with you? You look like shit"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I know. Im suffering from the after effects of a Champagne Chronic Nightcap"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sex, Alcohol and Weed should NEVER become one. Separately they are great things, but together BAD...VERY BAD...LOL. Especially the next day...BAD BAD BAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A conversation with a 4-year old&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 year old: "ILLLL...you eat animals?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other cousin: "Yes, you do too. You eat chicken, thats an animal"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-year old: "Oh. So do you eat horse?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other cousin: "No but I guess you could if you wanted to"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-year old: "Well what is horse???...Meatloaf???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...I literally almost choked and died laughing at this. Kids say the darndest things...BTW, I loved that show. Bill Cosby should bring it back for one more season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ayOCYhMh490&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ayOCYhMh490&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for smiles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3765254793834574415?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3765254793834574415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3765254793834574415' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3765254793834574415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3765254793834574415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/eventful-weekend.html' title='An Eventful Weekend'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5444326588737729218</id><published>2008-09-04T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T11:41:58.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote for Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;“Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em.&lt;br /&gt;- William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This quote is hilarious to me because I remember being in my High School Honors English class and we were talking about this quote, and my teacher was asking what we thought it meant. Like if there were any underlying meanings. And nobody said anything, and then he explained to us how alot of times Shakespeare would make sexual references in his works. So then we thought about it and everybody laughed. Because in other words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some fuck great people."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just remember another sexual term that we laughed at in class. (remember back in high school talking about sex was funny LOL) Deflower, which simply meant, to have sex with a virgin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5444326588737729218?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5444326588737729218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5444326588737729218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5444326588737729218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5444326588737729218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/quote-for-today.html' title='Quote for Today'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-496054478586687256</id><published>2008-09-04T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T11:26:32.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bourgeoisie vs. Proleteriat</title><content type='html'>In other words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capitalist Class vs. Working Class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm taking a Sociology class called "Social Problems" and this week we are talking about Wealth and Poverty, U.S. and Global Economic Inequalities. And while it reads as long, drawn out and boring, it is actually extremely interesting because it is SO TRUE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to agree with Karl Marx and greatly attribute inequalities in relation to poverty as a result of the capitalist class exploiting the working class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because how many times have you seen people who are "in charge" of something and you're thinking, "This person is an idiot. I can do WAY BETTER than them." Well I don't know about you but I say this all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The working class gives the capitalist class ALL their wealth, power and prestige because without them working for them, they wouldn't be able to provide the goods and services to the economy. I know exactly how the working class feels because DUH, I'm one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And especially from my experience of working in a Revlon factory for 4 days this summer, I feel their pain. Because I absolutely HATED that job, hence the reason I only worked for 4 days. But no matter how many people quit, they always had people there to replace them. And working that job somehow made me realize that I do not want to be apart of the working class forever. If I have to work for somebody, I want to work for myself. Or at least be doing a job that I want to do and love. I find myself thinking about even pulling an "Into the Wild" (but not as extreme) and just bum my way around the world for a few years. Just so I can experience being on my own and not having to answer to anyone but myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because in this capitalist economy, I don't believe that nobody is anymore qualified to do something than you are. Some people just have better opportunities and life chances than others. Chris Rock said it best (paraphrased extremely) "While a Black C Average college graduate can barely find a job in this economy, a white C Average college graduate can have the ultimate job, President of the United States." (he was referring to Bush) And its not because he's white that he is the president, its because he comes from a family of money that could give him better opportunities and could pull strings to let a dummy like Bush become President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which got me to thinking that in this time we like to blame alot of things on race but in actuality its all about money. But because white people are the ones with the bulk of the money, and black people are the ones without, it gets played as a race card. And from a Foundations of Education class I took, I learned that white people normally have what is called "old money" (Money so old its growing white hair- lil wayne) which is the best type of money you can have because you can't get rid of it because its constantly making more money. And again, back to Chris Rock, he talks about being rich and being wealthy (in one of his old stand up shows)  and how you can't get rid of wealth but you can throw away being rich in one fun summer and a drug habit. (Then he said "Look at Rick James" RIP)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while Chris Rock made a joke out of this it is true. And then my teacher from my education class goes on to talk about how these new people such as rappers, actors, doctors, lawyers, and professional types have what he calls "new money." Money that was acquired from a skill that they naturally have or was acquired through some sort of training or schooling. And how this type of money can be passed on generations but it can also be fucked up if you have one fuck up kid who wants to party all the time, and get loose with the money, or somebody who makes a bad investment. Look at MC Hammer, Mike Tyson, Vanilla Ice, all people who had millions and had to file bankruptcy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Im guessing new money can become old money if you make the right investments. Like if you created a product such as Johnson and Johnson, or you acquire through some means the ability to have your chain of restaurants. But you have to have money to make money, which brings me back to the working class and how most times they are barely making enough money to live, which leaves them no incentive to become part of the capitalist class. Their lives are focused on the now and what is, and not the future and what could be. And I wish I could do something about it but, again, I'm poor too. My only chance of getting out of the working class in the near future is the lottery which is a chance thats about 1 in a billion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as Im destined to be apart of the working class for a while, I am also determined to at least try to make my way into the capitalist class. Not necessarily one where I'm pimping the working class, but one where I can use my own skills to make money. It can't be hard because some of the idiots I see running shit (Cough- BET- I have to tell you my experiences with that "network" one day), I know for a fact that I can do it. Its just a matter of getting it done. Which for me, might be the hardest part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-496054478586687256?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/496054478586687256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=496054478586687256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/496054478586687256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/496054478586687256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/bourgeoisie-vs-proleteriat.html' title='Bourgeoisie vs. Proleteriat'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2757129041870489114</id><published>2008-09-03T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T10:50:59.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A BitterSweet Moment</title><content type='html'>Dear Fun,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to miss you dearly after this week goes by. Starting September 8th I have to officially be on my grind and therefore will not be able to experience your greatness anymore. It is definitely going to hurt me more than it will hurt you. It will be hard having to adjust being around my new friend Seriousness, because between me and you--that bitch is boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry, there will be days where I will sneak around and do whatever it is to see you again. There are birthdays coming up, Halloween (and we both know that is my FAVORITE HOLIDAY and it is always a great time for us), and whatever other reasons I may need to bring you back into my life to keep my sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know I can't leave you without us having the time of our lives this final weekend. We're going to our favorite place to be and TRUST, I've got big things planned for us. Two days to wild out like never before. (tear) I don't want to get too mushy on you so I'm going to go now, and prepare for these last days with you. They shall be great...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Bestest Friend in the Whole Wide World,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.- Things may seem bleek now but come August 2009 when I've gotten everything together, our return and reunitement will be inifinte times better than before. Luv Ya!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2757129041870489114?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2757129041870489114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2757129041870489114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2757129041870489114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2757129041870489114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/09/bittersweet-moment.html' title='A BitterSweet Moment'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-9019174014335810041</id><published>2008-08-28T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T20:55:44.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day Weekend</title><content type='html'>Am I the only person who thought labor day was always September 5th?? LOL...Only to find out that Labor day is actually the first Monday of September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I used to think that Thanksgiving was always the 24th of November and then found out its the fourth Thursday of the month. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway. My labor day plans are looking kinda good. I know one thing that could make them better but I won't get into that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday- Party!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday- Party with some of my favorite party people. One of my favorite cousins and his friends from school. (Got Patron?? LMAO)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday- BLOCK PARTY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday- Rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, that is what the day is for right. Should actually be called NON-LABOR DAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY LABOR DAY WEEKEND!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-9019174014335810041?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/9019174014335810041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=9019174014335810041' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/9019174014335810041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/9019174014335810041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/labor-day-weekend.html' title='Labor Day Weekend'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7599067083937863831</id><published>2008-08-25T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T09:44:24.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True Life: I Used to Be a Mean Girl</title><content type='html'>Yes its true, I WAS A MEAN GIRL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Middle school was Great. I absolutely loved every second of it. I missed the first 3 months of my middle school career because I broke my leg, but after that everything was great. I couldn't wait to go to school. I had classes with all my friends from elementary school, and then since we have only one middle school in my town, all the elementray schools come together for middle school and you get to meet so many new people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Middle school is just a chaotic place to begin with. Raging hormones is all I need to say. And just us being crazy contributed to my mean girl activities. But to my defense, everybody was Mean Girls. Like I remember some of my friends, I had nothing to do with this, gave this handicapped girl a christmas present and they made her open it in front of everybody. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And when she opened it, it was a box full of pads and tampons&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; And the real mean part was people used to pick on her because you could always tell the week of her period because she would bring a change of clothes and about midday she would have on a different outfit. So to be funny, thats what they did. And the teacher flipped on them. She was our cheerleading coach plus the math teacher and they got hell for that little prank. Glad I wasn't apart of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also there was this girl who after school one day, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;gave head to like 5 boys in the teachers lounge bathroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. YES IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. We were a wild bunch, I have to admit. We did most of our wild shit before high school. People used to have &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sex in the locker rooms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. One of my friends &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;first time was in the girls locker room&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And another was in the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;back room of a store that her father owned&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. One girl even &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;shitted on the floor in the gym to get back at a janitor that made her mad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. And we always knew everybodies business, its a small school and small town. But back to the girl giving head. So by the next day EVERYBODY knew about it because she and all the boys got suspended from school. And there was this girl who made up this song and dance about her. All I remember is "If you give her a dime, she'll do three at a time." And then at the end of the song they would break into this dance where they would drop down on one knee and start moving their head back and forth. IT WAS HILARIOUS. But mean as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did my fair share of mean girlness. We were in AG English class and it was this boy that nobody could stand. And its funny because in that class we took it back to Jim Crow. We had the black side of class, and the white side of class. With a few token white people on the black side and vice versa. And then there was this section of desks where the people that neither group really liked sat. It was this girl and boy who nobody really liked because they both always had to show off how smart they were ALL THE TIME. Very annoying. So basically we had a sub, and we were just having fun and the boy started talking "smart" again &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;and so they all dared me to throw this dictionary at him. And me being me, I did it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. However, not realizing how much force it takes to throw a heavy ass dictionary I ended up hitting the girl that nobody likes, before I hit the boy that nobody likes. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And she started crying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. But I didn't get in trouble. How I didn't get in trouble is BEYOND ME. But I didn't, no punishment at all. And I even remember being asked why I did it, and I was like, I wasn't trying to hit her, I was trying to hit the boy. (SO MEAN)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another edition of mean girlness was when I used to go to this summer program there was this girl there that the majority of us there didn't like because she was a hoe. Basically. And one day we were practicing for a talent show and my younger cousin was in the program too, and she was all over him, and I loudly told him in front of everybody to "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;tell that hoe to leave you alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;." And also that day, we were playing basketball in the gym and a friend &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;dared me to throw a basketball at her while they distracted her, and I did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. AND THEN as we was leaving to go home that day, she was running her mouth and I told her that "&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will beat your ass out here right now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;." But she kept walking towards her bus. SO MEAN I KNOW!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stories don't end. I also had a friend that I was cool with since elementary school that I turned on because she was one of those girls who flirted with everybody's man, so nobody liked her either. In fact, to this day, I don't know of anybody who really likes her. But we were always cool until one of my friends told me she was all over my boyfriend as they were walking to the buses. I never had to ride the bus because my mother worked at the school I went to so I couldn't walk out to he buses. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And after that day, my friends and I gave her hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. She wore her hair in this part that started right above her ear, and she would swoop her hair over, almost like a comb over. It was terrible. We picked on her for that. And she had a chipped tooth, so we would call her chipped. And then one day, in English class, we talked and made up. I felt so bad because she was actually a nice person. And still to this day I feel bad for what I did to her. But after we mde up, we never had another problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Im not like that anymore. AT ALL. That was just raging hormones and all that stuff that makes middle school aged kids crazy. There are probably a million more stories I could tell, but I kinda don't remember the details. These are just ones that I could remember. But again, I AM NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL. In fact, I've had numerous opportunities where I could have played the role of mean girl, but I usually just let people make a fool of themselves without getting into it. But I will admit, sometimes I just want to revert back to all that mean girlness with some girls who just don't understand anything else. But I can't bring myself to do it. But MAN ITS SO HARD NOT TO ACT RECKLESS...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7599067083937863831?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7599067083937863831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7599067083937863831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7599067083937863831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7599067083937863831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/true-life-i-used-to-be-mean-girl.html' title='True Life: I Used to Be a Mean Girl'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3752357517724529240</id><published>2008-08-25T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T08:58:50.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning Up My Room</title><content type='html'>I've been doing some..."Summer Cleaning"...and ran across a few things that I had forgotten about all together. I'm the type of person who likes to keep things so that when I run across them years later, I can sit down and look at it and laugh. I'm not a pack rat. I don't save everything just the important things. I have a Jordan shoe box under my bed that I call my "box full of memories." It has things like receipts, concert tickets, my first plane ride ticket, lots of stuff from my trip to Chicago and Lollapalooza, a keychain from a friend that died, alot of stuff that I one day HOPE to scrapbook. I even have old school work from middle school, and letters that my friends and I used to write in class, which are the funniest things I've ever read. I couldn't imagine that I acted that way in middle school and even high school. I've always thought I was mature for my age, and I was kinda was. But I think I say that because I never really got caught up in boy craziness like everyone else. Boys were always whatever to me. Or at least thats how I came off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one thing that I found that I almost threw away was a Teen People magazine from March 2005 with Ashley Simpson on the cover. I used to get these emails where I was apart of a focus group fcalled Trendspotters for Teen People and we had to answer questions that might be used in the magazine. And I remember my cousin calling me one day and she was like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cousin: "I just read something you wrote in Teen People magazine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What? How do you know it was me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cousin: "Because it has your name, where you're from and your age."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What does it say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my mother goes out and buys the magazine for me, and my comment was in an article called "25 ways to get his attention." And my comment was "Focus your flirtation. If you're with the boy you like, direct your attention toward him and only him, not toward him and every other guy. "Otherwise, your crush won't be able to distinguish if you like him or if you just flirt with everybody."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I first read this comment I didn't even remember submitting it, but it sounded like something I would say. But whats so funny about all this is that I'm the type of person who gives great advice but I never seem to follow my own advice. To a certain extent I do, but in this case, of focusing my flirtation, I definitely don't. I'm a Flirt and I usually flirt with everybody, friends, ex-boyfriends, future boyfriends, strangers, it doesn't matter. However, I know when to draw the line, nobody likes a girl who flirts ALL THE TIME. Thats just annoying. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://anjaflint.org/images/Teen%20People%203-05-Cover%20Ashlee%20Simpson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the magazine. I'll probably keep it forever. Something to show my kids one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3752357517724529240?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3752357517724529240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3752357517724529240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3752357517724529240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3752357517724529240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/cleaning-up-my-room.html' title='Cleaning Up My Room'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2936122894001898100</id><published>2008-08-19T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:22:51.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 samples of my writing</title><content type='html'>I love the blog, &lt;a href="http://www.collegecandy.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;CollegeCandy.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and I would love to write for them. They are always looking for new people to join their blog and so I have decided to try and see if I can get in on the greatness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to provide them with 3 samples of my writing in the topics of my choice which will probably be sex, relationships, and maybe MAYBE fashion. I have major opinions on sex and relationships but as far as fashion goes, Im more of a "I like what I like" type person and I don't believe that my fashion sense has to be your fashion sense. So I will probably just stick to sex and relationships, something I can speak more on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me Luck...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2936122894001898100?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2936122894001898100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2936122894001898100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2936122894001898100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2936122894001898100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-samples-of-my-writing.html' title='3 samples of my writing'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3731549647040113432</id><published>2008-08-18T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T18:00:05.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need A New Camera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i318.photobucket.com/albums/mm428/partypooper12/smirnoff-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i318.photobucket.com/albums/mm428/partypooper12/smirnoff-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I can capture all the wild and crazy moments that I encounter. Above photo: I have NOTHING to do with. White bitches are WILD. Found that photo &lt;a href="http://www.sorryimissedyourparty.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3731549647040113432?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3731549647040113432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3731549647040113432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3731549647040113432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3731549647040113432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need-new-camera.html' title='I Need A New Camera'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7930745745769534814</id><published>2008-08-18T17:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T17:45:23.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Fill in the Blank</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love this website right here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3198/2759964870_dd3a0f7e1c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why. Its just hilarious to me some of the stuff people do. Writing passive aggressive notes is funny. I write them to my mother, but as a joke though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love this website SO MUCH, that I kinda started a blog that is sorta of something like it. But I'm trying to find some more people to contribute to the blog with me. Moreso for fun, and not for attention. Its just funny to read people's thoughts. I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7930745745769534814?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7930745745769534814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7930745745769534814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7930745745769534814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7930745745769534814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/dear-fill-in-blank.html' title='Dear Fill in the Blank'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3198/2759964870_dd3a0f7e1c_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-547583321631323640</id><published>2008-08-18T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T17:37:37.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>I've come to terms with alot of things lately. Especially with the whole "my friends ain't shit" thing that I've been going through lately. It wasn't a giant surprising shocker to me but then again, I didn't think it would end like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was mad, then upset, then kinda regretful, then slightly forgiving, then came feelings of I told you so, and back to madness, and finally indifferent. FINALLY INDIFFERENT. And anybody who knows me, once Im indifferent about you, where I don't care one way or another, it could be good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good, if we were on extremely bad terms and the end result ended up with me not caring one way or another. But bad, if you think we're still friends and everything is back to normal. Cause it definitely won't be. I will be cordial but I won't be considerate. Meaning whenever you ask for me something that I would have normally did, I probably won't go out of my way to do it. If I simply don't feel like doing it, I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus its time for a change. I was getting way too comfortable with a bunch of bullshit. That I can see now was bullshit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-547583321631323640?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/547583321631323640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=547583321631323640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/547583321631323640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/547583321631323640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-6096107739989451407</id><published>2008-08-18T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T17:24:01.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need A Side Job</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://datingxlence.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/stripper-with-man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://datingxlence.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/stripper-with-man.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And my stripper name is gonna be Lola Pineapple. LMAO &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I gotta lose like 30 pounds first though...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-6096107739989451407?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/6096107739989451407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=6096107739989451407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6096107739989451407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/6096107739989451407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need-side-job.html' title='I Need A Side Job'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8238036261844203932</id><published>2008-08-18T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:02:53.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Talk: Family Edition</title><content type='html'>My girl cousins and I were talking about sex one day this weekend. (FYI I had a family reunion this weekend, so thats why alot of my posts have to do with my family all of a sudden)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my cousins just recently started having sex and we were just all curious to what it is that her and her boyfriend be doing because they both were virgins. And then my cousin for a long time was tryin to ride on her high horse and act like she was not gonna have sex until she got married and blah blah blah. So we're all just joking and talking and my cousin says something about how her and her boyfriend only have sex where she is on top. So then I'm like well what do you do on top? And she's like nothing. (First mistake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this point all of my other girl cousins are ridiculing her and telling her that she is garbage and how her man is gonna leave her if she doesn't get some moves. Another funny story, my male cousin was clowning this girl he talks to and in a drunken moment told the whole room that the girl has NO MOVES. HAHAHAHAHA...Sex moves that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so me and my other cousin are the oldest and we're tryin to explain that men are the ones who really do most of the work when you have sex, as far as movement. But when you're on top thats your time to shine, so to speak. You can't get on top and just sit there because the whole point of you being on top is so that you do the bulk of the movement and the guy just chills and takes it all in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we explain to her how important having "moves" are. Your moves separate the good from the great. Just like being a great pussy eater goes A LONG WAY. The totem pole goes like this for me (and most of my cousins and friends)...(we had a SERIOUS girl talk this weekend LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Great Dick. Great Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Average Dick. Great Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Great Dick. Average Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Average Dick. Average Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Great Dick. Non Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Great Dick. Bad Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Bad Dick. Great Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Average Dick. Non Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Average Dick. Bad Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Bad Dick. Average Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Bad Dick. Bad Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;Bad Dick. Non Pussy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, writing Pussy so many times is almost killing me, I hate that word. But roughly (lol) thats how we figure the totem pole goes. And I assume this is basically the same for women, substituting Pussy and Head Game for Dick and Pussy Eating Skills. Obviously your sex game has to be on point but you definitely get bonus points for your extracurriculars. You have to be able to separate yourself from the rest. We came to the conclusion that there is NOTHING wrong with being a freak. In fact, thats probably one of the best things you can be with your man. Don't let it get boring. If you keep it exciting, then he won't need to go out and get something new from another bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being that my cousin is young and still living with her parents who know she is having sex but doesn't necessarily approve of it, we couldn't really give her alot of suggestions. We ultimately told her that she wouldn't be with her current boyfriend forever and she really shouldn't be. You should test the waters and see whats out there. But thats another girl talk, I'm gonna stay on subject with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else did we talk about?.....Well ALOT. But I have a book that I recommend everyone in the world to read at some point in their life. Preferably early on in your sexual experiences so that you can use the information in the book to perfect your craft. Its called Guide to Getting it on, and it covers EVERYTHING. Any and everything you could imagine. Its more than 2 inches thick, so that should give you an idea. Read it. Love It. I've had it since my freshman year of college and every friend or family member that comes to my house and sees the book, reads it. Even the ones whom I couldn't pay to read anything else. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://ec2.images-amazon.com/images/P/1885535678.01._SS500_SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8238036261844203932?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8238036261844203932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8238036261844203932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8238036261844203932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8238036261844203932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/girl-talk-family-edition.html' title='Girl Talk: Family Edition'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-762651251433304672</id><published>2008-08-18T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T15:24:04.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends or Not</title><content type='html'>My cousins and I was talking about if we were not family, would we ever be friends with each other if we were in the circumstances where we had the chance to be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had already thought about this before because I have a few cousins who are actually my very good friends, and really some of the only people I depend on for anything. I have two cousins who I will say are my favorites. Two male cousins. One of them has been my nigga since forever. We've always been on the same page. We are the male and female version of each other. We just have an unspoken understanding. I have never felt like I just needed to get away from him. I think I could probably be around him forever and wouldn't have one problem. Then my other male cousin, we laugh all day. We always have a good time together. And the good thing about our relationship is we know when we've had enough of each other and we can step away without there being any conflict. Back to the whole principle of having an understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I have some cousins who if we were acquainted I probably wouldn't fuck with them like that. Nothing more than a "whats up. how u been  lately" type thing. I have one cousin who just gets on my nerves because she is so selfish. She thinks that you are suppose to do everything she asks and when shit doesn't go her way, she gets an attitude. There was a situation this weekend, where I asked her to carry this bag of ice while my other cousin and I went to the liquor store before it closed. So we're getting ready to leave and my other cousin comes to tell me that she just drops the bag of ice at the door and is like I'm not carrying this. Oh how I wish I could have been there because she would have been mad at me. She would have carried that bag of ice or she would have been calling a ride to pick her up from the store. She always try to hit people with the diva antics, she treats all her friends like shit, but I'm like Bitch we're family and all this bougie shit is not called for. She just thinks she too good to do a bunch of shit. And I recently let a friend go for some of the same type of selfish ass, ungrateful bullshit. But as she is family, I have to deal with her, but if she won't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have another cousin who I'm kinda on the fence with. I think she could be a good friend, but she'd be one of those friends who I could only be around for a little while and would probably never bring my man around her for too long. She claims she doesn't get along well with girls because so I don't know if she would even try to be my friend anyway. She doesn't get along well with girls because she thinks girls are all jealous, bitchy people but my cousin is a flirt. And nobody really wants somebody around who flirts with EVERYBODY. But that wouldn't really matter to me so we maybe could be cool. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of my cousins are cool. I could see myself being friends with all of them. I'm not a very high maintenance friend so as long as you don't get on my nerves too much, or do a bunch of bullshit, we can be cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-762651251433304672?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/762651251433304672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=762651251433304672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/762651251433304672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/762651251433304672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/friends-or-not.html' title='Friends or Not'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-9066004608627643662</id><published>2008-08-18T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T15:06:23.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Record: I'm not a Complainer</title><content type='html'>Its just that I use this blog to clear my mind and get things off my chest. With that said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized this weekend that this semester is gonna be crazy. I'm going to be taking classes, working full-time, and trying to maintain my sanity while everyone I know will be asking around if I'm a college dropout. AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually HATE when somebody asks me about school. I usually say what they want to hear which is usually the simplest way around it. Because if I go into specifics I could be there talking about school forever and that is one topic that I REFUSE to talk about excessively. School is still whatever to me at this point but I am really in "Grind it out" mode. I have like 2-3 more semesters to my finish and this time I'm just gonna have to sacrifice and grind it out. Do what I have to do, so I can do what I want to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-9066004608627643662?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/9066004608627643662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=9066004608627643662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/9066004608627643662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/9066004608627643662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-record-im-not-complainer.html' title='For the Record: I&apos;m not a Complainer'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3091464849740592541</id><published>2008-08-13T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T12:16:25.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Blog is Ridiculous</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://youknowyoudeadazzwrong.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;http://youknowyoudeadazzwrong.wordpress.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3091464849740592541?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3091464849740592541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3091464849740592541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3091464849740592541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3091464849740592541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-blog-is-ridiculous.html' title='This Blog is Ridiculous'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5015199625864989601</id><published>2008-08-12T13:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:49:31.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Slight Glimpse Into My World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos-046.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v181/251/34/2709046/n2709046_36584323_3035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-046.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v181/251/34/2709046/n2709046_36584323_3035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;At the club shaking my ass. Its a Lifestyle. Lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5015199625864989601?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5015199625864989601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5015199625864989601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5015199625864989601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5015199625864989601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/slight-glimpse-into-my-world.html' title='A Slight Glimpse Into My World'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-5011530483991637754</id><published>2008-08-12T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:48:09.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsk Tsk Tsk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/8d0c0131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/8d0c0131.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Raven, Raven, Raven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-5011530483991637754?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/5011530483991637754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=5011530483991637754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5011530483991637754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/5011530483991637754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/tsk-tsk-tsk.html' title='Tsk Tsk Tsk'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/th_8d0c0131.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8119951886246911856</id><published>2008-08-12T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:37:41.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crazy Things You See</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was visiting my nephews at their house and I see a man cutting down weeds in his yard with a MACHETE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.buycostumes.com/mgen/merchandiser/17728.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was kinda scary. Like who just has a machete. A crazy psycho killer thats who.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8119951886246911856?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8119951886246911856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8119951886246911856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8119951886246911856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8119951886246911856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/crazy-things-you-see.html' title='The Crazy Things You See'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1368546497236418922</id><published>2008-08-12T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T12:49:02.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For One Moment</title><content type='html'>Let's Be Real...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God never blessed me with being considerate of others people's feelings, I'd probably be the biggest bitch on Earth. Lets imagine the female version of Diddy. I'd have motherfuckers walking to Brooklyn for Cheesecake too. Just because I can. And being brutally honest, to the point of making people cry, would probably be my signature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about this because I know of at least 5 people whom I could have broken down because of some shit that they did to me, but I handled it in a respectful manner. I basically remained cordial and most of them don't even realize the changes that I have made in the way that I act towards them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually think I can be TOO nice sometimes. WAY TOO NICE. Because I feel sometimes people aren't really considerate of me, so why should I be considerate of them. RIGHT?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1368546497236418922?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1368546497236418922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1368546497236418922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1368546497236418922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1368546497236418922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-one-moment.html' title='For One Moment'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1346729947140718759</id><published>2008-08-07T13:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T13:30:20.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck At Work</title><content type='html'>Man Im SUPPOSE to be at the mall right now. My boss is wildin. They have an open house today that last until 7 and she thinks Im staying until then. BWWWAAAHHHH!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sneaking out of here by 5:30 at the latest. I got stuff to do. Like go buy all this stuff...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQrEHz6I/AAAAAAAABR0/DfwOpDVig9I/s1600-h/50929468-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875734117011362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQrEHz6I/AAAAAAAABR0/DfwOpDVig9I/s200/50929468-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQs-fZ0I/AAAAAAAABR8/pS4e0UzkfGU/s1600-h/51734041-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875734630262594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQs-fZ0I/AAAAAAAABR8/pS4e0UzkfGU/s200/51734041-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQrgb17I/AAAAAAAABSE/VqVXbn0cw9I/s1600-h/51893485-03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875734235764658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQrgb17I/AAAAAAAABSE/VqVXbn0cw9I/s200/51893485-03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQ0hpIOI/AAAAAAAABSM/RUa2iJiEKTg/s1600-h/53042488-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875736656748770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQ0hpIOI/AAAAAAAABSM/RUa2iJiEKTg/s200/53042488-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQzeXGoI/AAAAAAAABSU/YZiS2ezZ5j8/s1600-h/53058742-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875736374549122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQzeXGoI/AAAAAAAABSU/YZiS2ezZ5j8/s200/53058742-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ_Nk2cI/AAAAAAAABRM/5K8QPTT9FXs/s1600-h/43710757-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875619266288066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ_Nk2cI/AAAAAAAABRM/5K8QPTT9FXs/s200/43710757-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ7x9vTI/AAAAAAAABRU/mc5ckSPbs1g/s1600-h/47606686-04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875618345172274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ7x9vTI/AAAAAAAABRU/mc5ckSPbs1g/s200/47606686-04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ23rugI/AAAAAAAABRc/nQRzI7mwLD0/s1600-h/48966991-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875617026980354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbJ23rugI/AAAAAAAABRc/nQRzI7mwLD0/s200/48966991-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbKM2yLKI/AAAAAAAABRk/ikbI8SzwwJM/s1600-h/49074190-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875622928788642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbKM2yLKI/AAAAAAAABRk/ikbI8SzwwJM/s200/49074190-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbKOHNddI/AAAAAAAABRs/4eTpp3-TP3k/s1600-h/50799049-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231875623266121170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbKOHNddI/AAAAAAAABRs/4eTpp3-TP3k/s200/50799049-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1346729947140718759?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1346729947140718759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1346729947140718759' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1346729947140718759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1346729947140718759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/stuck-at-work.html' title='Stuck At Work'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SJtbQrEHz6I/AAAAAAAABR0/DfwOpDVig9I/s72-c/50929468-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-3948132373542455702</id><published>2008-08-07T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T14:52:36.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHOA...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/07d7d433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/07d7d433.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Saaphyri...(Flavor of Love)...ring a bell...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is what we call a MESSSSSSSSS...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-3948132373542455702?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/3948132373542455702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=3948132373542455702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3948132373542455702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/3948132373542455702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/whoa.html' title='WHOA...'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/ybf08/August%2008/th_07d7d433.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-38650439387021614</id><published>2008-08-05T14:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T14:14:41.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EXACTLY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh250/socalbarbie420/fuck-3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh250/socalbarbie420/fuck-3.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-38650439387021614?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/38650439387021614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=38650439387021614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/38650439387021614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/38650439387021614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/exactly.html' title='EXACTLY'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-7183559642794266566</id><published>2008-08-05T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T07:39:50.968-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have You Ever...</title><content type='html'>Felt like you were evolving, and changing but EVERYBODY around you was stuck. Kinda how things are right before the MEN IN BLACK would flashy thing you. All the people around you are frozen in time but you're still moving forward...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I literally had to let go of a friend because of this very reason. We not on the same shit. And my friend really wasn't even trying to bring anything to the table, after I basically bought the table and eventually had to supply everything put on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thats not even the real reason why I had to let it go. Because I don't mind doing shit for people. But after doing stuff ALL THE TIME without hardly ever having to be asked, it gets old. And even then thats not the reason I had to let it go. It was only because I took notice of the shit going on around me. I don't particularly pay close attention to others around me, as far as what they do, because I don't really care to. But once I started noticing how shit was happening, it dawned on me that motherfuckers aren't really who they say they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, people that I only hear from on the weekends because they know that Im probably gonna go out. People that don't even call me for my birthday, texting and facebook are essentially for motherfuckers who don't really know me. But if I go all out to do shit for your birthday and I can't even get a phone call for mine. Letting niggas come before the people who are really there for you. no matter what. I mean I could probably go on forever and ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then thats not even the end of it. Thats not why I let it go. I was actually gonna give it a second chance because I try to be a good person. But then as soon as I decide to give a second chance, the fuck ups immediately resurfaced and basically shut down all hopes for anything. I mean I literally tried, even against everybody telling me to let it go. EVERYBODY. Its funny how NOBODY gave a fuck whether we remained friends or not. (except for me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because at the end of the day, I look at it like this. We had our good times. Great times even. But its only so much I can take. If you didn't take the effort to recognize a good friend, then I shouldn't take the effort to remain one. And real talk, all this could be settled if I could just talk to you. But I can't because back to the beginning, We are on some different shit right now. I'm going one way, and you're going another. Not saying that my path is any better , but I seemed to not be losing alot of friends on my path while you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another concept my friend doesn't understand. You can have all the friends in the world but if they're not GOOD friends, then it doesn't mean much. When everybody surrounding is comprised of fake bitches you will see. Because the people that you are calling fake ass bitches, jealous ass hoes, and such on, and so forth, where the same motherfuckers who gave you NUMEROUS chances. I know this because they told me. And at that point I knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You don't understand that these fake ass bitches &amp;amp; jealous ass hoes did you plenty of favors. Favors especially since you hardly ever did anything in return. And even after chances upon chances you let shit escalate over some shit that YOU should have been doing in the first place. Shit ain't free anymore. There are not too many people who are gonna do stuff just because, so when you find those type of people you should appreciate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im saying all this and you will probably never read it. And will probably never understand. I'm just gonna become a jealous ass fake ass bitch like the rest of them. And thats cool, cause back to the beginning, you are on some different shit right now. And these are the life lessons that you and I both will learn from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to end this but I thought of something else. And you of ALL people should know how easily I can let go off a motherfucker and not think twice. You know that. And as much as I wish things were different, its not. I don't get to chose my family, but I do get to chose my friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-7183559642794266566?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/7183559642794266566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=7183559642794266566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7183559642794266566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/7183559642794266566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/have-you-ever.html' title='Have You Ever...'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-2262756327453309694</id><published>2008-08-05T10:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T07:39:06.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOOO CLICHE</title><content type='html'>I hate when people talk before thinking about what they are saying. Again on the subject of haters, we all have heard those cliche expressions people give when they find out somebody is "hating" on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love all my haters"&lt;br /&gt;"My haters make me happy"&lt;br /&gt;"Keep Hating, I'm loving it"&lt;br /&gt;"My haters love me because they wanna be me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all heard them (and probably have said them). But I'm just so tired of people claiming to have SO MANY haters ALL THE TIME. Everybody can't possibly be hating on you and if so, then you should really look at the shit that you do. Cause odds are if EVERYBODY is "hating" on you then, there is something wrong with YOU. I don't know. I'm just tired of shit like this. I see it TOO MUCH. Hear it TOO MUCH. If you gone DO YOU, as you always claim, then DO YOU. Why are you so worried about everybody else being supposedly "jealous," "envious," and "mad" at you? Fuck em and move on. You don't have to recite to the world your hater cliches, it only makes you look stupid (to me anyway).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-2262756327453309694?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/2262756327453309694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=2262756327453309694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2262756327453309694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/2262756327453309694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/08/sooo-cliche.html' title='SOOO CLICHE'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4150302798832683318</id><published>2008-07-29T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:39:01.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Cannot WAIT until this Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For many reasons&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) Back to Maryland/DC...My second home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(2) More Birthday Celebrating with my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(3) More PATRON!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(4) I Get To See My Friend whom I haven't seen in what seems like FOREVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(5) KARAOKE!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(6) Love (the club that is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(7) Having FUN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much sums it up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4150302798832683318?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4150302798832683318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4150302798832683318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4150302798832683318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4150302798832683318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-cannot-wait-until-this-weekend.html' title='I Cannot WAIT until this Weekend'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-538172794066132646</id><published>2008-07-29T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:46:29.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How was my Birthday You Asked?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.interscope.com/images/artist/bustarhymes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.interscope.com/images/artist/bustarhymes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.realcoasters.com/images/paramountskingsdominion/anaconda2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.realcoasters.com/images/paramountskingsdominion/anaconda2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://shawnwilson.files.wordpress.com/2008/02/laser-tag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://shawnwilson.files.wordpress.com/2008/02/laser-tag.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.realcoasters.com/images/paramountskingsdominion/volcanotheblastcoaster7.jpghttp://www.urbaniagroup.com/images/Busta-Rhymes.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ghettowine.com/pics/cisco/blackcherry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.ghettowine.com/pics/cisco/blackcherry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rum.cz/galery/eur/de/bacardi/img/de~28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.rum.cz/galery/eur/de/bacardi/img/de~28.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shearpartnership.com/images/portfolio/pernod_seagrams_01.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.shearpartnership.com/images/portfolio/pernod_seagrams_01.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tequila.net/images/stories/jreviews/123_Patron_Silver_Tequila_1169924532.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.tequila.net/images/stories/jreviews/123_Patron_Silver_Tequila_1169924532.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FOR THE RECORD: I DID NOT DRINK ANY CISCO...lol&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-538172794066132646?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/538172794066132646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=538172794066132646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/538172794066132646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/538172794066132646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-was-my-birthday-you-asked.html' title='How was my Birthday You Asked?'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-601596524748495633</id><published>2008-07-25T16:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T16:28:12.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(Sigh) </title><content type='html'>Im happy. Really. Its my One of my Two Bday weekends. I call this weekend the pre-bday celebration. Im gonna have major fun tonight without question. But I'm sitting around now basically wasting time and thinking about how if this would have been any of my friends birthdays they would all be looking at me to basically pull everything together to make their bdays fun. I plan the party, get everbody together, buy everything from the stores, pull everything together, make sure everybody is having a good time. I do a lot, not everything but A LOT more than everybody can say they do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its my birthday and nothing. From nobody. Most of the people Im going out with tonight, I don't expect them to do anything. But the people who are suppose to be my real friends, the friends I do a lot for, nothing. For once I would like to be surprised. I would like to see what it feels like to have somebody do something for me. Not because I asked them to do it but just simply because its a good idea. Just because. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I do like that I heard John McCain say, "If you have to ask, its too late." I don't want to have to ask, it doesn't have the same feel. I do a lot of things for people out of just being a nice person. Too nice if you ask me because I feel that I never get anything back in return. And its not that Im looking for any payback, but just once, it would be nice to just be able to relax. I have about two cousins who has ever done anything for me just because. We never have to ask each other anything. One of them has always been like that and the other one became that way in more recent years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like Im always complaining about my friends on here lately but its just some shit Im always thinking about. Im not saying Im the best friend ever, but Im all about a fair trade. I expect back what I put out. Not from everybody but from my friends at the least. But it is my pre-birthday, and regardless Im going to have a great time tonight. So all that shit I just said, FUCK IT...LOL. I can always find new friends, my 22nd birthday only comes around once in a lifetime.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-601596524748495633?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/601596524748495633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=601596524748495633' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/601596524748495633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/601596524748495633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/sigh.html' title='(Sigh) '/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8506457034536747228</id><published>2008-07-24T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T13:41:46.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FReSH</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjn7EtzylI/AAAAAAAABPg/9wBxCad8Efs/s1600-h/kwest_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226682369627638354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjn7EtzylI/AAAAAAAABPg/9wBxCad8Efs/s400/kwest_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjnEw3XS-I/AAAAAAAABPI/Hkjo6EvR8f4/s1600-h/MZ9CAK3OOP1CAE58Z85CA8HZS67CAZ3SP18CAK4KUGKCAUYC986CA78YS00CA3TDEVJCAYP27XNCA90DLKECA928JOUCAQ58777CAVDGZY6CAS81RRBCAPA2NSWCA1WAUGBCALE7FJ5CAWI34WTCAFSHHEH.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjnFDC7EZI/AAAAAAAABPQ/0Pyj1YILIOc/s1600-h/pharrell-autograph-event-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681441466388882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjnFDC7EZI/AAAAAAAABPQ/0Pyj1YILIOc/s400/pharrell-autograph-event-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjnFKEhG2I/AAAAAAAABPY/Vr2-FxxjTXU/s1600-h/teyana-taylor-celebrity-arrivals-and-departures-at-mtvs-trl-on-february-27-2008-0g56tA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681443352124258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjnFKEhG2I/AAAAAAAABPY/Vr2-FxxjTXU/s400/teyana-taylor-celebrity-arrivals-and-departures-at-mtvs-trl-on-february-27-2008-0g56tA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6JarWdI/AAAAAAAABOg/AwweXQQ22po/s1600-h/9820.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681254198073810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6JarWdI/AAAAAAAABOg/AwweXQQ22po/s400/9820.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6ZnuZCI/AAAAAAAABOo/vtBT_oM0Q_0/s1600-h/kesh650_8211t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681258547766306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6ZnuZCI/AAAAAAAABOo/vtBT_oM0Q_0/s400/kesh650_8211t.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6e2IFqI/AAAAAAAABOw/lSbd4ivTX7M/s1600-h/Kesh_KH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681259950347938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6e2IFqI/AAAAAAAABOw/lSbd4ivTX7M/s400/Kesh_KH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6v0OImI/AAAAAAAABO4/tp5WVs_KV-A/s1600-h/lupe_420_story5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681264505758306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6v0OImI/AAAAAAAABO4/tp5WVs_KV-A/s400/lupe_420_story5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6l1HxlI/AAAAAAAABPA/xNTC3o8s6jA/s1600-h/MIA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226681261825181266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjm6l1HxlI/AAAAAAAABPA/xNTC3o8s6jA/s400/MIA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8506457034536747228?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8506457034536747228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8506457034536747228' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8506457034536747228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8506457034536747228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/fresh.html' title='FReSH'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIjn7EtzylI/AAAAAAAABPg/9wBxCad8Efs/s72-c/kwest_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4106650579844887555</id><published>2008-07-24T09:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T09:06:09.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart Dunks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin4drh3jI/AAAAAAAABOI/6J3fG3G1fcg/s1600-h/7716910e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226611956045176370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin4drh3jI/AAAAAAAABOI/6J3fG3G1fcg/s400/7716910e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226611963074033698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin433VuCI/AAAAAAAABOY/OfErP3--Zng/s400/thrashin-dunk-high-sb-db-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin4rQyLZI/AAAAAAAABOQ/TCZ6FVSHSeM/s1600-h/bdccb71e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226611959691095442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin4rQyLZI/AAAAAAAABOQ/TCZ6FVSHSeM/s400/bdccb71e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I ABSOLUTELY LOVE LOVE LOVE THESE SNEAKERS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(Give me sneakers over heels ANY DAY)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4106650579844887555?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4106650579844887555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4106650579844887555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4106650579844887555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4106650579844887555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-heart-dunks.html' title='I Heart Dunks'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIin4drh3jI/AAAAAAAABOI/6J3fG3G1fcg/s72-c/7716910e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-8405058772235082738</id><published>2008-07-22T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:37:39.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why I love CollegeCandy.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.collegecandy.com/reality/10407#more-10407"&gt;http://www.collegecandy.com/reality/10407#more-10407&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They make posts such as these that I can TOTALLY relate to. I realized this year that I have way too many "toxic" friends who I only hear from when they want something from me. And if they don't want something, they want to tell me something about them. Never asking about me. Its always a one way thing. I let alot of things just roll off my back but not anymore. The only people I allow to be one-sided sometimes is my family, only because they are family. I don't get to pick and chose who I'm related to, but I can pick and chose my friends. And I don't need bad friends. AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I would like to say that I do have at least one good friend that I can always count on. There is a reason she has been my best friend since 9th grade. And people find it hard to believe that we can be best friends and hardly EVER talk to each other. But whenever we get together, its like we never missed a moment. Thats my bitch. Those are the kinds of friends I need more of. Friends who are on my level.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-8405058772235082738?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/8405058772235082738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=8405058772235082738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8405058772235082738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/8405058772235082738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-why-i-love-collegecandycom.html' title='This is why I love CollegeCandy.com'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1038630587605683579</id><published>2008-07-22T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T10:03:15.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Daily Mantra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Taken from Aristotle and Remixed by me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I am what I repeatedly do. Therefore my flyness is not an act, but a habit"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Gucci...LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1038630587605683579?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1038630587605683579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1038630587605683579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1038630587605683579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1038630587605683579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-daily-mantra.html' title='My Daily Mantra'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1023522714674832898</id><published>2008-07-22T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T10:00:57.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Munny's</title><content type='html'>My first Munny was aight, but compared to some of these, I am definitely an amateur. But one thing I noticed is that most people make their Munnys look very evil. My inspiration for my Munny was the line from Weezy "We are not the same, I am a martian"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRq8_CCMI/AAAAAAAABMY/Y6Ivz95KJhU/s1600-h/AR560x560,Resize.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225883847232719042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRq8_CCMI/AAAAAAAABMY/Y6Ivz95KJhU/s400/AR560x560,Resize.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRq3Dpb6I/AAAAAAAABMg/yEE2AFXqCHw/s1600-h/jaguars_hernandez_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225883845641465762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRq3Dpb6I/AAAAAAAABMg/yEE2AFXqCHw/s400/jaguars_hernandez_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrOLUssI/AAAAAAAABMo/S6KdLm0GpyY/s1600-h/Totem-Munny-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225883851847676610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrOLUssI/AAAAAAAABMo/S6KdLm0GpyY/s400/Totem-Munny-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrFHdCzI/AAAAAAAABMw/-6CsbbnxtAA/s1600-h/Wavedog-Tutorial-0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225883849415527218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrFHdCzI/AAAAAAAABMw/-6CsbbnxtAA/s400/Wavedog-Tutorial-0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrm0zv-I/AAAAAAAABM4/QOyB_-n40Yo/s1600-h/zombie-munny.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225883858464128994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRrm0zv-I/AAAAAAAABM4/QOyB_-n40Yo/s400/zombie-munny.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1023522714674832898?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1023522714674832898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1023522714674832898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1023522714674832898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1023522714674832898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/munnys.html' title='Munny&apos;s'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SIYRq8_CCMI/AAAAAAAABMY/Y6Ivz95KJhU/s72-c/AR560x560,Resize.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-4785979401348916803</id><published>2008-07-16T08:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T09:04:39.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Results of My Career Assessment</title><content type='html'>Im doing some work for my aunt...(BORING!!!)...But I've been having to do a bunch of career assessments. And this one is the best one I've done so far...It only gives you partial results because you have to pay for the full report, but what they do give you is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.questcareer.com/career_assessment_resources.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.questcareer.com/career_assessment_resources.html&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Assessment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRInterest"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;INTEREST IN JOB CONTENT(Those tasks you want to perform)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Megan is conscious of existence, meaning, purpose, potential and destiny of humankind, people, and self. Megan is motivated by a self-felt, self-accepted calling to the cause of good, growth, and gain in the lives of others. Influential communication of ideas is a primary way of achieving those objectives. Perception and thinking tend to be holistic and conceptual; i.e., seeing the big picture. It is important to see which of the other traits are interactive with this trait because there can be many interesting combinations. This is a major trait in cultural, intellectual, academic, and creative activities. It includes ideas, concepts, theory, ethics, and values.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRTemperament"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TEMPERAMENT FOR THE JOB(How you prefer to perform tasks)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan prefers and needs change and variety. Change is motivating, stimulating, and energizing. Megan looks for new options, challenges, assignments, acquaintances, relationships, and even new careers in new places. Megan tires of sameness, repetition, and routine even in activities that were interesting at the start. Once things become routine for Megan, this becomes a motivation to move on to more interesting things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;APTITUDE FOR THE JOB (Expression of performing tasks)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's preferences and motivations are derived from understanding the deeper or 'real' meaning of ideas and words and uses them effectively in written or oral communication. Literary in this factor means intentional search for ideas expressed by the minds of others for one's own use, assimilation, learning, etc. The source can be books, other publications, historical documents, research information, drama, movies, television, the "information highway" or internet, etc. Emphasis is on communication: picking up information from minds of others or communication aimed toward the minds of others. Journalism and writing are major activities. Literary activity is not exclusively intellectual, academic, or cultural. It may be an end in itself as in a bookworm for instance. And literary activity is not always accompanied by communicative activity, written or oral. On the other hand, communicative activity need not be literary in the classic sense. And one need not be persuasive to be communicative, but it helps. When the trait is highly motivated, as it is here, it suggests both literary and communicative abilities that are or could become a usable skill or a developed talent. By now you can see that only a review of all traits will clearly show the specific content of Megan's literary and/or communicative preferences and motivations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRPeople"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PEOPLE(How you relate to people, in priority order)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's motivations are heightened significantly by persuasive, gregarious, auditory-musical, visual-artistic, and communicative traits to entertain others with intent to convince them toward a particular idea, viewpoint, direction, objective, or product. In this motivational context, entertainment is more than pleasing people. It has promotional and marketing objectives. Some preferred activities include: marketing, sales, public relations, television commercials, lobbying, political campaigns, promotional consulting, sports announcing, etc. Motivations may also be driven at the prospect of efforts to get ahead in various areas of entertainment and/or acting, i.e., to advance one's own career. Persuasion is the primary preferred trait. A high level of motivation exists because there is an element of risk involved where the effort has a goal tied to the end of the act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRThings"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THINGS(How you relate to things, in priority order)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan is not motivated toward processing activities, no matter what is being processed or who is doing the processing. There is no natural preference for this sort of activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRData"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DATA(How you relate to data, in priority order)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with other mental activities and preferences, Megan sees the big picture or assembles perceptions, thoughts, information, data, numbers, etc. in the context of the big picture. It is important to determine, by scanning other factors in this section, how high motivational levels are for synthesizing relative to other mental processes, regarding analyzing, comparing, and coordinating in particular. This comparison determines whether Megan prefers to start with the big picture, or build up to it later. Because Megan has moderate motivational levels for mental process, it will be more "down to earth" than "on cloud nine", more logical than fantasy or abstract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRReasoning"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;REASONING(How you relate to reasoning, in priority order)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan is strongly motivated to apply thinking to the big picture through holistic ideas, concepts, options, and strategies. This does not mean, suggest, or imply that thinking is kept only in a holistic context but it does mean that the first and constant priority or preference for consideration and focus are on the big picture. (Example: Megan more likely prefers to be an executive rather than a manager, and more inclined to be a manager rather than a supervisor.) Considering how pieces of the picture are brought in to the big picture stimulates motivation for the activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="NARRMathematical"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MATHEMATICAL CAPACITY(How you relate to the applied usage of math)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Math is a natural talent like art or music and requires a certain natural preference. In most instances, you have it or you don't; you like it or you don't. If the individual has talent for math, this section shows where the greatest vocational interest and motivation occurs, and that is where he/she has probably developed the most talent or could. Low ratings for some or all of these factors imply that math, or possibly that specific application of math, is not a motivational factor to this individual. Management responsibility based on mathematical calculations and decisions is not a preferred activity for Megan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LANGUAGE CAPACITY(How you relate to the usage of language)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan is highly motivated to consider creative writing and communicating at professional levels. Preferences are holistic, conceptual, imaginative, and creative. "Ideas trigger more ideas" can probably be said about Megan. High motivational levels for this worker trait indicate an interactive combination of literary and philosophical traits. As Dean W. R. Inge said, "Literature flourishes best when it is half a trade and half an art." That probably makes a great deal of sense to Megan. Motivation at this level indicate preferences that probably include writing fiction, poetry, scripts for movies or television, advertising copy, marketing copy, teaching creative writing, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Career Choices&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Creative Writing: author; imagination, vocabulary&lt;br /&gt;Interview/Inform: gather, dispense information&lt;br /&gt;Training Services: human resource development&lt;br /&gt;Modeling: artistic display; fashions, apparel&lt;br /&gt;Decorating and Art Work: design, arrange, consult&lt;br /&gt;Corresponding: prepare, edit, send communications&lt;br /&gt;Specialty Entertainment: please others to make sales&lt;br /&gt;Health Physics: safety engineering, occupational&lt;br /&gt;High School, College, University; teach/counsel&lt;br /&gt;News Reporting: gather, write, send information &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this career assessment also speaks alot on my personality. Reading it I was like, Damn, that is so right. Im always looking at the Big Picture, and thinking about things realisitically as opposed to abstractly. This career assessment really says alot. I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-4785979401348916803?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/4785979401348916803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=4785979401348916803' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4785979401348916803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/4785979401348916803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/results-of-my-career-assessment.html' title='Results of My Career Assessment'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1088020137892138887</id><published>2008-07-15T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:25:17.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SHz-Cv9eReI/AAAAAAAABMQ/PwsfKfjJP4g/s1600-h/sewing_a_broken_heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223328991030429154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SHz-Cv9eReI/AAAAAAAABMQ/PwsfKfjJP4g/s400/sewing_a_broken_heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This one is for Jennifer. She always wants to have girl talk and every attempt we made has been a bad one. The first attempt all I said before falling asleep was, "Guys are Stupid." And the second attempt, I gave good advice, but she didn't listen to it. I told her don't get so caught up in what a guy tells her, that she should what watch he does. Because words take no effort, actions do. And if a guy cares even a little bit, his actions will reflect his words. But then you have to worry about guys who will say nice things, and do nice things, but they don't give a fuck about you. And thats when time becomes a factor. Throwing out "I Love You's" early in the game should tell you that they guy doesn't hold the words I love you in high regard. He uses them to his advantage. He knows how much girls want to be loved, and I love you is nothing but 3 words to him. Most guys will have a hard time saying they love you unless they mean it. Or unless you say it to them first and then they don't wanna hurt your feelings so they say it back. And then it can get real confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my Girl Talk advice for this time is to get to know the guy you are with. And don't ignore signs of a lame just because you want a boyfriend so badly. One of my mantras that I live by, "You're better off in no relationship, than a bad relationship." Your overall happiness should come first. You can find somebody who will treat you right. You may have to wait for him but you can have fun while you wait. Being single has its plus sides. No strings, no committments, no checking in, no restrictions, and lots and lots of doing whatever it is you want without having to explain anything to anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you can have as many boys as you want. It can get lonely at times, but my advice is to be with guys you actually enjoy being around and who enjoy being around you. Not just booty calls. Its hard to turn a booty call guy into your man. You can tell when a guy likes being around you because...HE WILL WANT TO BE AROUND YOU. He won't mind you coming over and chilling. In fact, he will probably invite you over as much as you invite yourself over. And when you deal with guys like this, instead of guys who only call you over at 3 am, you can build relationships without having to be tied down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, unless you want to deal with 3 am guys as well, which is perfectly fine. In fact, my friends and I talked about this and we have found out that having a mixture of the two is actually better than having one or the other. Because if you spend too much time with "the guy you chill with" you both might catch feelings, or you both might get bored. And if a relationship is not what you want then you need to have some time to yourself. And thats when the "3 am guy", who is just a break from your other guy comes into play. He doesn't really give a fuck, and you shouldn't either. So it should be perfect. But the 3 am guy has to be somebody that you would never make your man. You can be attracted to him, in whatever way, but not in a way where you think he can be your man. This only works if he can't. Because when you catch feelings for the 3 am guy, you're gonna start neglecting what you have with the guy you chill with. And while you know the guy you chill with is the guy you should be with because you actually like him in the way you should like a person, the 3 am guy is always gonna appeal more. Its the theory of "you like what you can't have." Don't do it. Save yourself the heartache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my last bit of advice pertains to the picture up top. Regardless of how many upsets, heartaches, and tears you will shed in life, you will get over it. It may hurt for a while but you're gonna wake up one day and be over it. Its not the end of the world, you may think it is, but its not. Just like Chris Rock said, Men are conditioned to believe that there are always more fish in the sea, whereas women are conditioned to believe that there aren't alot of good men out there. So once women think they've found a good man, and he ends up breaking her heart, she believes she messed up her rare chance of having a good man. And therefore believes that she will probably never find a man as good as the one she had. Which is ridiculous, because there are more fish in the sea for everybody, both men and women. You just gotta recognize a good man when you see one. And stop going for the guys who aren't really good for you. And just stop fucking with lames in general. And stop making excuses for lames. No excuses!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj208/shatteredstar8885/Broken-Heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The guys you want to avoid...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1088020137892138887?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1088020137892138887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1088020137892138887' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1088020137892138887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1088020137892138887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/girl-talk.html' title='Girl Talk'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KTLZs1AMVwk/SHz-Cv9eReI/AAAAAAAABMQ/PwsfKfjJP4g/s72-c/sewing_a_broken_heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1951127162325407316.post-1058035325412884015</id><published>2008-07-15T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T12:43:08.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad day for Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://buzznet-04.vo.llnwd.net/assets/users16/laranatalie/default/Broken_heart--large-msg-120096802138.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://buzznet-04.vo.llnwd.net/assets/users16/laranatalie/default/Broken_heart--large-msg-120096802138.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember a day when your friends were people you could count on. People who had your back no matter what. People who if I'm passed out drunk, would carry me to my car and make sure I got home safely. Friends who if I'm late to class will sign my name on the roll for me. People who if my man of the moment was cheating on me, would be there to find out with who and be ready to beat his and his bitch ass with me. You know, GOOD FRIENDS. Its a sad day when strangers and your self-proclaimed enemies treat you better than your friends do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1951127162325407316-1058035325412884015?l=zgfwe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/feeds/1058035325412884015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1951127162325407316&amp;postID=1058035325412884015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1058035325412884015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1951127162325407316/posts/default/1058035325412884015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zgfwe.blogspot.com/2008/07/sad-day-for-friends.html' title='Sad day for Friends'/><author><name>Muah!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07895161822984857271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
