<?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-3450637701647763428</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:38:58.282-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Bit of Everything</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-6455821639497014003</id><published>2009-07-12T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T17:24:31.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pros and Cons of Breathing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This last week has been amazing. And leave it to the Fates to go and kill it. I swear the universe has it out for me. For every two steps forward, it's one step back. Reeeaaallllyyyyy not cool or fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What was fun, however, was the beach trip I took with my Aunt and cousins. I had a really good time just hanging out in the water with Boo. She may be little, but she has so much energy. It was funny to watch the waves knock her off balance. She tried to get me to fall in the water a few times, but that didn't work out much for her. ;) Bubba tried playing in the water, but the waves knocked my poor baby down. It was very amusing, &lt;s&gt;but also a little sad.&lt;/s&gt; My aunt even found it funny. It's times like that when I wish I'd had my camera with me. The con, I got seriously sunburned. Okay, not as bad as my aunt, but it hurts. I only got burned on my back. Like from my head to my feet, literally. The back if my  knees hurt like heck. Times like this I thank God for aloe vera. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I have become a pro at Wii golf. It's like the only sport that I'm good at. Baseball would be second and tennis third. The rest I cannot even mention, thats how bad I am. LOL. The con of all this Wii playing, I pulled a muscle in my arm. Not pleasant. While temporary recovering from this "injury", I read all the books my Grandma bought me. And now I have nothing to read. LOL, it's a good thing I enjoy rereading books. I also got a few from my Aunt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This week though, started out sucky. Great Grandma is in the hospital Saturday. And my GRANDMA in today. Honestly, not one of my better days. I mean, yeah, she is going to be alright, but still it's awful. Nothing to cry about though. So that's a good thing. Anyway, I'm off to go take care of the kiddies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Missing home like  crazy...&lt;/span&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/3450637701647763428-6455821639497014003?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/6455821639497014003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/07/pros-and-cons-of-breathing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/6455821639497014003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/6455821639497014003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/07/pros-and-cons-of-breathing.html' title='The Pros and Cons of Breathing'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-7165004951454179830</id><published>2009-06-23T01:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T02:05:49.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calm Before the Storm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Right now it is 1:00 am. And I cannot sleep whatsoever. So I am currently watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. What I should be doing is sleeping or working on my book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I thought that writing a book would be way easy, but it is not. I have a plot line just can't figure out the stuff in between. Ugh, it's so hard. I have a new found respect for published authors. Writing books really takes time and imagination. I have no imagination. Hahaha, so this is going to be extremely difficult. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Speaking of extremely difficult, one of my guy friends is being really difficult. He doesn't like the guy I like. He is jealous of this other guy. Which makes me sad because all my friend does is undermine the guy. And it's not fair. I'm doing everything right! I turned down the guy when he asked my out the first time and now we have an awesome friendship. However, my friend just can't get over it. It's like he is hoping that I will forget the guy and date him. Unfortunately, for him, that isn't going to happen. I have waited a year and a half to date the guy I like and I have two months to go. This is getting ridiculous. Some people would say it is like an Edward/Jacob situation, but it so is not. I wish it were that simple. Maybe I'll just have Ali talk to my friend for me. This is just not cool anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Speaking of not cool, it is very hot in my room. NOT COOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Things that are cool are that I am going to Ali's this weekend!!! Whoo hoo! Movie night and cards and food. My type of day. =D If I just keep thinking about Saturday, then I think I can keep a good grip on the happiness I felt last Saturday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Anyway, that is all for now folks. I am having some serious writers block.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;peace.love.happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/3450637701647763428-7165004951454179830?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/7165004951454179830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/calm-before-storm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/7165004951454179830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/7165004951454179830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/calm-before-storm.html' title='Calm Before the Storm'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-4435118391033743797</id><published>2009-06-15T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T13:08:24.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a Dream Last Night We Flew Out to See Las Vegas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Actually, I did not have a dream that I flew out to see Vegas. There isn't anything in Vegas worth seeing. I'd probably spend an hour in the airport gift shop and then gone home or just plain turned around and went home. Anyway, this post has nothing to do with flying, Vegas or airport gift shops. It's going to be a brief post about the awful, frightening and despicable.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GIRLS CAMP&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;(dun dun dun duuunnn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yeah, I'm serious so you can stop laughing or whatever. To me, G.C. is like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;we had everything before us, we had nothing before us,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;direct the other way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-Charles Dickens, &lt;em&gt;A Tale of Two Cities&lt;/em&gt; (1859)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In other words, for some it is going to be fun, exciting and worthwhile. For others, such as myself, it is Hell on Earth, or Hell in the middle of Heaven. I love being in the woods! I mean, hello!! I looove Yosemite! I wanna live there all because of the trees and just the being in the woods thing. I hate girls camp. With a deep passion. But anyway, back to the Heaven/Hell analogy. For the rest of us who would rather stay home and watch General Hospital, we have NOTHING before us and it indeed is a season of darkness. &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;. we're away from my comfort zone &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;. strangers are preparing my food &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;. what happens if I accidentally eat a cashew? &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;. I'm surrounded by tons of other girls who I do not know nor do I care to know them &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;. most of those girls are going to be on their periods. &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;. drama (need I say more.) &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;. absolutely no privacy &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;. too much noise &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;. I can't just be quiet for one flipping second without someone asking me whats wrong! &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;. too many hyper, happy people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have nothing against happy people. I enjoy being happy too. But for the love of everything holy in this world, I do not understand how some can be like that the whole entire time! It's like stepford(sp?) wives, only scarier. Nothing against the leaders, and not my ward leaders..other ward leaders, but for crying out loud, I do not want to be there. Of course I ain't smiling. And being quiet does not mean that something is wrong. It means I really have nothing to say and just don't want to talk. I have nothing against other girls or girls in general. You surround me with them though, I will get annoyed. Sorry I'm human and don't get along with everyone! &lt;--sarcasm. I'm not sorry. I do not do screaming children, what makes you think I put up with screaming girls. ex:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Girl: Oh my cheese! A bug!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Me: Squish it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Girl: *Screams* Ahh!! It's coming closer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Me: *yells over screaming girl* Move out of my way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Girl: *still screaming* It's gonna eat me! (or) Help me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Me: *shoves screaming girl aside* Hey! Look. *squishes bug*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Girl: *stoped screaming* oh! *proceeds to laugh hysterically*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Me: Cheese and rice! *walks away mumbling*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Has it happened before? Yes. I'm not kidding. Maybe not in the exact words, but it has happened. Not all girls are like that, but there are some. Then you also put me with some people I don't get along with. I don't start crap, but I can finish it. Now, you put me with my sister, chances are that we will not get along very well. However, some stupid girl messes with my sister, and that's it. She is going down. No one messes with my sister and gets away with it. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, I can really rant on and on about this, but I won't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This will be my last post for a while. If I survive G.C. I will write about. But if something goes wrong, do not expect me to write about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On a happier note, this Saturday should be fun! &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Dance, dance&lt;/span&gt;! =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-4435118391033743797?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/4435118391033743797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-had-dream-last-night-we-flew-out-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/4435118391033743797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/4435118391033743797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-had-dream-last-night-we-flew-out-to.html' title='I had a Dream Last Night We Flew Out to See Las Vegas'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-1599327883978820803</id><published>2009-06-12T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T23:27:05.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Dreams Assured and We All Will Sleep Well</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(Dashboard Confessional-Stolen)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am pretty sure that today has one of the &lt;em&gt;best &lt;/em&gt;Fridays of my LIFE!! Let us recap:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Very funny attempt at tennis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Interesting walk home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Camp shirt fixing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Movie watching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Pink Lemonade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Enchiladas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CoB t-shirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Chinese Food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Card making&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So much happened today and I am too tired to write about it all! I'll leave that for tomorrow! Sleep Well!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;=&lt;em&gt;)&lt;/em&gt;&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/3450637701647763428-1599327883978820803?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/1599327883978820803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-dreams-assured-and-we-all-will.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1599327883978820803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1599327883978820803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-dreams-assured-and-we-all-will.html' title='Our Dreams Assured and We All Will Sleep Well'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-2838445383308973037</id><published>2009-06-11T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T14:39:36.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is That A Fish?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm pretty sure that it was a fish. It definitely looked like one, even if Diana doesn't believe me. Anyway, I finally did it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: What &lt;em&gt;exactly &lt;/em&gt;did you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, I'll tell you. I died the top part of my hair black!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Stop being so skeptical. It's all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, really it is. Well, I like it anyway. It looks good...when straight. I haven't tried anything else with it yet. I'm not going Emo or Goth. I just kinda always wanted to try it. SO I did. And I like it. My face looks thinner. I look slightly older and I'm happy. I'm not going over to the "&lt;strong&gt;Dark Side&lt;/strong&gt;". I'm just expressing myself through my hair. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;AGAIN THIS DOES NOT MEAN I AM GOING OVER TO THE DARK SIDE. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It just means that my hair now makes me happy. There is no more blonde either!! Not that I have anything against blondes, I am just sick of having it in my hair. NO matter what color I use, it always goes back to blonde. Not this time. Its all gone. And it looks really good. Anyway, enough about that. On to more important subjects...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Yes, it's my mommy's birthday. She is once again 29. Hahaha. Although, my mom doesn't want to celebrate it. WHATEVER! She is still getting a card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today also happens to be my cousin's graduation! But more about all this later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-2838445383308973037?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/2838445383308973037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-that-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2838445383308973037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2838445383308973037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-that-fish.html' title='Is That A Fish?!?'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-1002644212800159169</id><published>2009-06-06T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T01:22:45.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Could Kill A Man (Charlotte Sometimes)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I like that song. It's pretty funny. Anyway, there is only one word that can sum up this last month or two or whatever. I forgot the last time I wrote......oh! *ahem* back to the ONE word:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HEADACHE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally serious. I have had an on-going headache. And it sucks. Worst of all I am on Summer Vacation and I STILL have a headache. Maybe I should consult a doctor? I'm thinking maybe so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, forgetting the headache (easier said/typed than done), I am desperate to escape from here. Like &lt;em&gt;super&lt;/em&gt; desperate. At least I don't have school on Monday, but it would be an awesome outlet. I can just see Sammy and I walking around the Quad area talking about how sucky or great our weekends were. What our crushes said when they called/texted/messaged over myspace or facebook, then laughing about how dumb we're being. Unfortunately I no longer have that comfort. Instead I'm now being forced to be at home dealing with annoying as "heck" sisters and a "bipolar" father. IM SUPER EXCITED! &lt;--sarcasm. I need something to preoccupy my mornings until my mother gets home. Then I can sit in my room and have no one bother me. I just wish I had a decent book to read, but I have read everything in my closet a gazillion times. I know every plot and there is hardley any surprise left in those books. I need to go book shopping. Not that it would matter much anyway, &lt;em&gt;they &lt;/em&gt;would still find someway to drag me away from the familiar safety of wonderfully written pages and loveable characters. What I wouldn't give to live in one of those books! Their lives would be amazing to live, they worlds amazing to live in. Being in the places I dream about, but no. Yosemite is the closest thing I can get to a retreat. And I hope that I can talk my grandparents into taking me back up there for longer that a few days. I wouldn't have work to worry about and I could really relax. No sisters. No parents. No cell phone reception. No nothing. Just me and some trees. Maybe a sketch book and my camera. No worries...just perfect. I can only dream. I don't know. I really really want to go now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then...I dunno what I'm going to do. Well actually, right now I'm going to go get something to drink cause I am super thirsty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to go to Target before Tuesday so I can get my hair dye. Thats right everyone!! I am dying my hair once more. Just the top part cause I am so sick and tired of the blonde/orange crap in my hair. Seriously, so I'm dying the top part a nice shade of black. Black doesnt fade fast and it would look really nice with my dark brown hair. Well, uh, hopefully&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/3450637701647763428-1002644212800159169?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/1002644212800159169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-i-could-kill-man-charlotte.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1002644212800159169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1002644212800159169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-i-could-kill-man-charlotte.html' title='How I Could Kill A Man (Charlotte Sometimes)'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-596087278025770626</id><published>2009-04-20T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:52:59.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brutus is an honorable man.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And it is true. He was an honorable man. I just really like that quote. I think it's awesome. It has nothing to due with what I'm writing about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And so it begins...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well, so far I have had a very long day. And I shouldn't be writing this, but I'm going to anyway. Lets start with my spring break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There are many reasons why I love going to visit my grandparents. The obvious is that I love them very much. The not so obvious is the feeling of security and the fact that I can be myself and not be judged by anyone. I feel free and so happy there. I can speak my opinions and I don't hide out in my room. They listen to me when I talk and that house is filled with so many happy memories. Being there, I forget all my problems and I am a completely different person. I'm happy and bubbly. I'm loved. That is the most amazing feeling. To be needed, wanted and accepted. There is no doubt in my mind that my grandparents love me because they do so much. They understand that i am not always happy here and they make every visit memorable. I like how all three of us read on the patio and how we eat together and how my grandmother has a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me in the mornings. They care for my point of view. They include me in their lives. They take the time to get to know me and give me a chance to breathe. Like I said, amazing. I don't mind doing the dishes or helping when asked. I owe my grandparents everything. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my parents and I owe them everything as well. My whole family means the world to me, but Lord knows I need a break from the chaos every now and then. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;While I was with my grandparents, I also babysat my cousins, bug-a-boo and bubba. (no those are not their real names) I love my cousins as well. They always make me laugh and we have the best time. We went to the park one day. It was so much fun. Bug-a-boo and I went on the swings and went down the slide and had an adventure. Yes, Bubba was there but he was with my aunt. I have a few pictures of our fun, but I really want to edit them before I put them up. Boo tried to get me to go on the "Monkey Bars" but there was no way that as happening. I had a traumatic experience on the "Monkey Bars". That's a story for another time though. All in all, my cousins made my time down there much more fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Coming home, I found my mom violated our contract and cleaned my room. I was not a happy person. Not at all. I have no idea where any of my stuff is. I still cannot find a few things. I love my mother so very much, but I absolutely hate it when she cleans my room. It looks like those model home rooms. Unlived in, with no personality. When someone walks in my room, I want my personality to scream at them. I want someone to walk in and think 'Yep. This is Lauren's room.' No doubt about it. That's another reason I love my grandparents. My grandmas personality is shouting out at you everywhere. I love it. You know what type of person my grandma is the second you walk through the door. That is how I want my room to be. It saves me a heck of a lot of time instead of having to explain myself. My rooms says it all.  My dad doesn't want me to have a room like this though. He doesn't understand. He never does. All well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I hate to leave on that note, but I really need to get the rest of my homework done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&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/3450637701647763428-596087278025770626?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/596087278025770626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/04/brutus-is-honorable-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/596087278025770626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/596087278025770626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/04/brutus-is-honorable-man.html' title='Brutus is an honorable man.'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-623617490711546765</id><published>2009-04-06T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:59:34.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take aim at myself, take back what you said.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why must girls be subjected to have difficult and unpredictable mood swings? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Honestly, I can't take it anymore. It's ridiculous. I swear my friends think I'm bipolar. I can't help it though! For example, this morning I couldn't have been any happier and somehow by lunch that little bit of joy had evaporated. By then, I was just not in the mood. After school, I was about ready to bite someones head off. Now that I'm home, however, I feel perfectly content. It's horrible. I feel so bad. I was nice to Mitchell though! That's something new. We always usually find something to argue about. It's not like serious arguing, it is all just for fun. We usually end up laughing about it. Haha, it's &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;ALMOST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like we're an old married couple. Not today though. We got along just fine. I dunno. Something has got to be wrong with me or maybe it's just hormones. Whatever the case may be, I shall find some way to be happy tomorrow. I'll make it my goal for the day. Although, fourth period might kill any chance of sunshine in my life. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SdqUfPj-WOI/AAAAAAAAABo/Rfd1sohgjbQ/s1600-h/19596822.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 100px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 164px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321729174165936354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SdqUfPj-WOI/AAAAAAAAABo/Rfd1sohgjbQ/s320/19596822.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So my latest book is about a girl who is currently suffering from anorexia. It's called "Second Star to the Right". So far it is a good book. You hear from this 14 year old girl who is obsessed with losing weight she doesn't need to. It's sad and slightly frightening. She has no idea she is sick and neither does anyone around her. All you read for a good part of the book is that she needs to lose more weight. 105 is perfect...no 99...she said that she would do whatever it takes to feel perfect. To feel thin. She's only 14. It's very sad that she thinks she's fat. She won't allow herself to eat anything.This isn't a scary book, just sad. I wish her parents would realize already that her "diet" is not a diet. It's starvation, but it's just a book. I tend to overreact to this stuff. I can't help that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, my actual diet I've tried to start...that isn't going too well. I could use a little more discipline, but when presented with the chance to have a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger from Jack in the Box, you are right in thinking that I'm going to take it. It's going to be very difficult to drop 5 pounds. I will succeed though! Especially with summer coming up. My goal is 115 and to keep it in that area. So technically I have to lose ten lbs to reach it, but I figured I would start out w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SdqT8IyeeNI/AAAAAAAAABg/D_YNovzgoJ4/s1600-h/yum.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 109px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321728571052292306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SdqT8IyeeNI/AAAAAAAAABg/D_YNovzgoJ4/s320/yum.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ith a reasonable number. One I can actually achieve and one that would make me feel healthier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So now, I'm off to go do a nice little work out that won't last long! =D Haha, I say a good hour or a little less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(By the way, this has nothing to do with the book I'm reading. I've been meaning to do this since February. I know my limits and I like food way to much to EVER give it up. Especially french fries..)&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/3450637701647763428-623617490711546765?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/623617490711546765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-aim-at-myself-take-back-what-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/623617490711546765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/623617490711546765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-aim-at-myself-take-back-what-you.html' title='Take aim at myself, take back what you said.'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SdqUfPj-WOI/AAAAAAAAABo/Rfd1sohgjbQ/s72-c/19596822.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-7532837023031061766</id><published>2009-03-27T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T22:29:35.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All I can think of is the way I'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"I've got troubled thoughts, and the self esteem to match."&lt;br /&gt;What a catch....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I love that song. (what a catch, donnie-fall out boy). For some reason it makes me want to cry. Its so sad, but I love it. It makes me want to cry, but oddly enough, when I listen to the song it makes me happy as well. Such mixed emotions for a song. I'm weird like that. I cry over books and songs, movies not so much. Hahaha, I think thats why I connect with the song so well. I'm obviously troubled. Now all I need is find a book full of psychological illnesses and diagnose myself. That would definitely give me something to do. Lord knows I need something to preoccupy my constantly buzzing mind from going places I don't want to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; All well, thats life apparently. I really need to get over things and learn how to deal. I wonder if colleges offer a class or if there is a book. Almost like the books, "What to Expect When You're Expecting". There needs to be a book called, "What to Expect Out of Life and How to Get Over Yourself and Deal with It". Or something. I'm sure there is a book out there related to that. I'm almost positive. I just haven't found it yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well, bouncing away from my foolish teenage problems... I did extremely well on my CAHSEE, if I do say so myself. For that I am completely thrilled. Seriously. It's been the highlight of my week. Sure, that might seem a little sad...but worth a little celebration, yes. It's nice when something like this happens in my life. It's like a temporary euphoria. Hahaha. Yeah, I know. It's pathetic. But it's nice, unlike eel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sounds squishy doesn't it? Eel? Yeah it does. It really truly does. I was looking up pictures of eels the other day, just to see. And I got freaked out a little bit. IT LOOKS SQUISHY!! I'm afraid I'll bite into it and all the sudden I get this unpleasant gooey/squishy-ness. Like a cream puff. I don't like cream puffs. And anyways, have you seen an eels eyes?? It's so creepy! I so will not be able to get the image of this one eel out of my head. I swear, one of these nights I am going to have a bad dream about this eel. I think it needs a name this eel. Herman. The eels name is Herman. Anyways, here's the story about Herman:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So it was right after one of my friends told me they were going to basically force me to try eel. (Now, remember, I really don't like trying new foods due to the fact that I have horrible gag reflexes that act up from time to time.) Just thinking about eating an eel is setting off my gag reflex. Yeah, it's not fun. Well, being the person I am, I agreed. So, naturally,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I researched pictures of eels b&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/Sc20bFhIdYI/AAAAAAAAABY/uoUcN5H7qC8/s1600-h/thumbnailCA6Q7DHX.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 159px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 111px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318105112425035138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/Sc20bFhIdYI/AAAAAAAAABY/uoUcN5H7qC8/s400/thumbnailCA6Q7DHX.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ecause i was curious. I got pictures of the animated eels from The Little Mermaid (Disney version) and I got actual pictures of eels. And I found a particularly freaky eel. Yes, I found Herman. ---------------------------------------------------&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;That is Herman. For some reason he freaks me out! Look at his eye!! It's creepy. And my friend wants me to eat something as creepy as this???I don't think so!!! I'm sorry, but whenever I think of eel now, I see Herman. So sorry my dear friend, but there is no way I am eating eel now. What if I eat a member of Herman's family?? Herman is going to want revenge. He already looks crazy. Why put myself through that? I don't want to go swimming this summer and get attacked by him. That would not be fun. I'm not joking, I'm serious. (BTW, do you see how squishy he looks?) I'm not trying eel. End of story. I'm sorry. (This might also be a good time to tell you I don't like Transformers either.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyways, I feel like it's been forever since I last blogged about something. I feel so much better now. Better than I have felt in days. I need to write more...........&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/3450637701647763428-7532837023031061766?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/7532837023031061766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-i-can-think-of-is-way-im-one-who.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/7532837023031061766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/7532837023031061766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-i-can-think-of-is-way-im-one-who.html' title='All I can think of is the way I&apos;m the one who charmed the one who gave up on you'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/Sc20bFhIdYI/AAAAAAAAABY/uoUcN5H7qC8/s72-c/thumbnailCA6Q7DHX.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-5653998902020557950</id><published>2009-03-04T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:07:17.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear, I fear we're facing a problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(guess what song that is from. =D)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I hate being sick. It's such a bore. Seriously, it isn't fun. There are never any good television shows on anymore. And what happened to all the great shows like Blue's Clues?? And I know it's kinda still around, but Joe is not Steve. There is a difference people!!! Steve was way better. (Just saying!) And "Wow! Wow! Wubbzy!"??? Whats up with that???? That is the most ridiculous excuse for a t.v. show!!! No child should be forced to go through that kind of cruel and unusual punishment. I know people who think that Wubbzy is cute/adorable, but they're crazy because he..it?..see?!?! I'm not even sure what gender the stupid thing is! Bring back all the good shows!! Where is Recess? Pepper Ann? Doug?!? Those shows actually taught you something. I know, I know, a two year old won't fully appreciate Pepper Ann like the rest of us, but that's why they had Blue and &lt;u&gt;STEVE&lt;/u&gt;!! Or Gulla Gulla Island. (OH SNAP!) I miss that show. That was freaking awesome!! When I was younger and I would be sick, those are the shows that kept me entertained. Now, I really don't have anything until later in the day. Which leaves my mornings empty and boring. Everyone is at school and I am stuck at home doing absolutely nothing until CSI comes on. If it does. Anyways,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Because of my illness, I also missed mutual. Which sucks. It's like the only thing I really have to look forward to. And I couldn't go. Serious bummer. I am so glad that I have school tomorrow. It gets me out of this house and gives me something to occupy my time. Which  is what I need. A distraction. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And brownies. I need brownies. Although, a certain &lt;em&gt;someone&lt;/em&gt; wont stop playing a certain &lt;strong&gt;game&lt;/strong&gt; and make them for me. Someone is too determined to beat another someones score. I'm sick and I can't make brownies. So I guess I won't get brownies. Yet. I have a plan. Which won't work most likely, but hey! At least I'm trying. ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;=]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-5653998902020557950?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/5653998902020557950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear-i-fear-were-facing-problem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/5653998902020557950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/5653998902020557950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear-i-fear-were-facing-problem.html' title='Dear, I fear we&apos;re facing a problem'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-387086887918647294</id><published>2009-02-25T22:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:58:31.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lambchop is my new bff &lt;333</title><content type='html'>He is my new best friend. I &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; him. He is that cool. He gets his own blog post. He was my best friend all night. Well, other than my girls. And Sis. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Degraff&lt;/span&gt; said I could borrow him anytime! So I am super excited. He's really funny and likes party hats. And long walks on the beach..ladies as far as I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lambchop&lt;/span&gt; is available!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hahaha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the coolest parts of the night though, is when my friend told me i could keep his sweater another few days. So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;!! I love it. I might not give it back. Its comfortable and keeps me warm. Its awesome and its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;BYU&lt;/span&gt; so its even cooler. Yep. And guess what Mr. Langston? It's better than UCLA!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kidding&lt;/span&gt;..not really....again, please don't fail me. To the person who is letting me borrow his sweater (if he ever reads this which I highly doubt he will..) thank you so much and like I said, I love ya! And BTW Sweater Guy, #11 on the list is so not a joke and you know it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun to make the standards commercials, and even though I got a few weird looks from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Menifee&lt;/span&gt; ward, it was worth it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Lambchop&lt;/span&gt; was all dressed up and i had my hat. It was all we needed folks. Just me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Lambchop&lt;/span&gt; acting out skits together....with the help of our lovely co-stars. Thank you too all. Both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Lambchop&lt;/span&gt; and I are excited to go to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Academy&lt;/span&gt; Awards next year. We are looking forward to it. It shall be a splendid event. We have seats next to Christian Bale himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, seeing as I have nothing left to say...I guess I'll go now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Neverland&lt;/span&gt;!! (yeah, I wish..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-387086887918647294?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/387086887918647294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/lambchop-is-my-new-bff-333.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/387086887918647294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/387086887918647294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/lambchop-is-my-new-bff-333.html' title='Lambchop is my new bff &lt;333'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-1297967051097039266</id><published>2009-02-25T17:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T18:19:20.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh, not another mind made up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Say, we'll make them see we've got no more room to breathe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I love that song. &lt;u&gt;NO MORE ROOM TO BREATHE by There For Tomorrow&lt;/u&gt;. I think it's amazing. So today was interesting-for lack of a better word. Weird just doesn't explain it. Anyways, I've been looking at colleges a lot lately. My opinion of any of the BYU's is...I'm all for it one minute and then the next I'm like..No, I don't wanna go to BYU&lt;u&gt;  (insert name here).&lt;/u&gt; Its all very confusing. And while I'm struggling to begin to make a decision about which college to attend, I've picked my classes for next year. Here's what I'm going to be taking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;AP Literature&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AP U.S History&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Math Analysis (a.k.a pre cal.- recommended by Mr. Langston)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Chemistry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Art 1&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AP Psychology&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sounds exciting right? Yeah, I hope so. AP Psych. sounds so. And considering I want to be a Psychiatrist, that might just help. =]  haha...yeah. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In your opinion, which is better? USC or UCLA? Personally, USC is better. Only because they have the same colors as &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Barstow&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;High &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. GO AZTECS! Hahaha, if my grandma were to read this, she'd be laughing so hard right now. Hahaha, I remember the last time she laughed really hard..it was great. She remembers too. Its hard to forget that. I mean she spilt her drink all over the counter and ice on the floor...yeah, I might just have her read this. =] Hahaha, you have to had been there to understand. Anyways, the reason I bring up the two rival schools-USC/UCLA-is because my algebra two teacher (Mr. Langston) and my friend Jessica are always fighting over which is better. It's all fun and games, nothing serious, but we are keeping score. Jessica is for USC and Langston is for UCLA. It's funny to watch them make comments about the schools, such as "It's so simple a USC student could do it." and "For a UCLA student, you aren't very organized." (you have to know Mr. Langston to get that last one). And since I don't want to fail Alg. 2, I'm sticking with BYU...just in case. Lol not that Mr. Langston would ever fail me because I prefer USC....but just to be on the safe side.. hahaha. It's all good though. I love sixth period. Anyways, I got to go. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Peace, Love and Happiness.....&lt;br /&gt;....to BYU students only!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just Kiddin'! =]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-1297967051097039266?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/1297967051097039266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-not-another-mind-made-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1297967051097039266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1297967051097039266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-not-another-mind-made-up.html' title='oh, not another mind made up!'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-9187106524096054624</id><published>2009-02-23T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T21:02:04.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think we're gonna need a bigger boat...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hot&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Cold&lt;/span&gt; Black White &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Up&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Down&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Left &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Right &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-or-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;No&lt;/u&gt; middle ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems to be the story of my life lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-or-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Cannot&lt;/u&gt; be Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a bigger boat. For those who have seen the movie &lt;strong&gt;JAWS&lt;/strong&gt; (best movie &lt;u&gt;ever&lt;/u&gt;!!), you know what scene I am referring to. The one where Brody sees Jaws for the first time. And he is like shocked. Scared I guess is a better word. That's how I feel. How I relate. I have all these worries that add up to the size of Jaws himself and I have a small boat. What fun that is. Well, at least I'm not that girl Chrissy(Sp?) at the beginning of the movie who gets eaten. As tempting as that looks, I'd rather stay in my little boat and try to fight. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my life seems to be getting more intensely complicated by the minute, I find how extremely &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; I am to have the friends that I have. They seem to be the only people who are willing to stay with me as I slowly lose my mind. And they're the ones who are going to be there when I start getting it back. School has become a paradise for me. Like my own personal escape from everything. Even though its where 90% of my stress comes from, my friends and some teachers can just make my day without even trying. It's almost like, for a second out of my life, I can have some fun and live a little....then some of my teachers tell us to quiet down and get to work. Hahaha, but that's when passing notes-not texting!-comes in handy. Teachers are so busy checking for cellphones that they begin to overlook the simple hand written notes students still use. Which is good for my friends and I because we can have seriously funny conversations. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I forgot what else I wanted to say..haha. Until next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-9187106524096054624?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/9187106524096054624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-think-were-gonna-need-bigger-boat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/9187106524096054624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/9187106524096054624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-think-were-gonna-need-bigger-boat.html' title='I think we&apos;re gonna need a bigger boat...'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-2591958937420331623</id><published>2009-02-17T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T00:25:21.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When life hands you lemons, must we always make lemonade?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;existentialism&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;noun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(philosophy) a 20th-century philosophical movement chiefly in Europe; assumes that people are entirely free and thus responsible for what they make of themselves &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;_________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;n. A philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe, regards human existence as unexplainable, and stresses freedom of choice and responsibility for the consequences of one's acts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(dictionary.com)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How would you use that in a sentence? Haha, maybe I'm too tired to figure it out, but still. That's a hard word to use in an everyday conversation. Unless you are seriously into intellectual conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I like the first definition. It says nothing about being responsible for my actions. If only, right? If I didn't have to pay for my actions, then I wouldn't worry about make up work for school. Sadly, I do have to worry and stress. Which is not cool. It's as if my teachers hate me. Seriously. Like the first thing I want to do after attending a funeral-a very long one I might add- and trying not to get sick (which isn't working) is doing homework I don't understand because HELLO! I wasn't there to hear the lesson. Ummm, yeah. I get it that teachers do not generally care, but just give me a break. Just one. And Ms. Grossi? I understand you are very busy and what not...but how do you write a response to a DBQ? And what DBQ response thing am I supposed to do? Honestly. I know it's an AP course, but AP students need help too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yeah, I understand I'm complaining, but I can't help it. This is the only form of therapy I'm going to get for a while. Hahaha. So while being stressed out, I still am finding time to attend Winter Formal. Am I looking forward to it? Sure, kinda. We'll see. I was only going because I thought my best friend Sam was going. (no this isn't Best Friend. Sam and Best Friend are two different people) Well, it turns out she is not going. She didn't think I was serious. WHOOPS!! All well, at least Jess is going. I still need to go pick up my dress. Exciting. I don't like getting dressed up, but at least I'm getting fed. Haha. Hmmm, that wasn't really funny was it? Anyways....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I need sleep. Gotta get up before the sun does. So Goodnight World!&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/3450637701647763428-2591958937420331623?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/2591958937420331623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-life-hands-you-lemons-must-we.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2591958937420331623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2591958937420331623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-life-hands-you-lemons-must-we.html' title='When life hands you lemons, must we always make lemonade?'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-9061308068706936398</id><published>2009-02-14T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T13:17:06.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Diary, whats wrong with me??....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ah yes, a Dear Diary moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I woke up this morning realizing I made a huge mistake. Don't ask what it is, because I won't tell you. I'm sorry...wait, I just lied. I'm not sorry. Frankly, it is none of your business. Just know that I am working on fixing it at this very moment. Yes, while writing this lovely blog for some to read I am also formulating a plan. One that will be extremely successful, if I can manage to let the words out anyways. All, well... On to other things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh my! Look at the date! February 14&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;... It's.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;VALENTINES DAY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I don't mean to offend anyone, but this is the stupidest holiday. Seriously. It's a greeting card holiday. A way for those people to make money!! Do you know how much money florists, greeting card companies, grocery stores, etc.. make on this day? I don't know the exact amount, but if you really think about it...the numbers begin to add up. This isn't something I'm being bitter about because I have no one to spend it with, this is actually something that is 200% S-T-U-P-I-D. And if you truly loved someone, you should show it everyday. Not just one particular day. And if you do celebrate v-day, then don't send flowers. Why? Because flowers die! Oh my gosh! How can you not see that?? You might as well write on the card:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;' Dear _________,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;       I love you with all my heart. You mean the world to me. Our love is like these flowers I selected. It's a symbol of how our love blossoms and its beautiful......Then, watch how over the course of time, they shrivel up slowly and eventually die. And we will end up throwing them out because they look horrible and smell weird. Happy Valentines Day! I hope you enjoy the symbol of our love!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Ummmmm, yeah. If you do want to get her flowers, get the fake ones that will last a few lifetimes. Okay? Because, seriously you may not have realized in the past what sending flowers meant, but now you do. And it's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't read too much into it. You wanted to do something romantic. And that's fine. The next time you buy flowers, think of the sample letter above and realize what you are actually truly saying. Then, go buy your significant other a puppy or kitten. Or chocolate. You can never go wrong with chocolate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So now you know, and for those of you who still love this stupid holiday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Go and get your love something sweet and from the heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;-Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-9061308068706936398?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/9061308068706936398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/dear-diary-whats-wrong-with-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/9061308068706936398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/9061308068706936398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/dear-diary-whats-wrong-with-me.html' title='Dear Diary, whats wrong with me??....'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-3125451732512779952</id><published>2009-02-14T00:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T00:42:31.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE AFTER PARTY OF THE AFTERLIFE!... isn't as great  as it sounds..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well, I am not sure how I feel yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My great grandma was Catholic, so naturally we had a catholic funeral for her. And wow did she know a lot of people!! I mean, holy cow! She had a lot of friends. Granted some she probably hasn't seen in five years, but still. And there was a lot of food at the reception. Which was held at my great grandads. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It was a sad affair. The funeral service thing took a long time. And myself, being a Latter Day Saint, I was completely lost. It was a nice service. And what the, er, person? had to say about Great Grandma Terri was nice. She was a wonderful person, although i disagree with him on the whole thing about her being 'quiet and peaceful'. It took all I had to not laugh. I'm serious. Great Grandma Terri was quite the opposite. She always voiced her opinion and she could talk &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FOREVER!&lt;/span&gt; Hahaha, that's why I love her so much. She always had interesting stories. You could always kill a few hours while with her and only have to nod along. I'm going to miss her. I said my goodbyes and she knows how much I love her. She was always helpful and an amazing cook. Always had food for us she did. Always something. She is going to be greatly missed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Back to the funeral itself. It was interesting. I have never been to a Catholic funeral before. It wasn't what I'm used to. All well, it was pleasant all the same. Hopefully, I will not be attending another one anytime soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, to explain my absence on Thursday....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It started Wednesday night with my mother feeling rather ill. I told her not to worry about it. We could leave at nine in the morning and I can make it for the rest of school. Well, apparently my sister choice to get an ear infection that night as well. Yeah, I was not happy when I found out I would not be going home. No, I do not feel bad for my sister. Why? Because she had it coming. She doesn't listen. She shouldn't have been playing outside when its rainy and windy. She shouldn't listen to her Mp3 player thingy at full volume. She just had it coming. That's my opinion. No one wants to listen to me, that's what happens! I mean for crying out loud! Is it really that hard to sit inside and watch a movie for a little bit? Anyways, while everyone was fussing over &lt;em&gt;her, &lt;/em&gt;I was stressing about the fact that I have missed yet another day of school. JOY !(&lt;---sarcasm) I am now currently behind in all my school work. Very behind. It's going to take me a very long time to catch up. Which totally sucks. I now hate all my classes. I'm going to fail. It's official. Kiss my whole high school career goodbye-unless through some wonderful miracle that I would sooo be eternally grateful for, I can about 70% of the work I seriously need to make up during this wonderful, yet agonizing four day weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(Seriously, someone please wish me luck!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-Me&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/3450637701647763428-3125451732512779952?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/3125451732512779952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/after-party-of-afterlife-isnt-as-great.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/3125451732512779952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/3125451732512779952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/after-party-of-afterlife-isnt-as-great.html' title='THE AFTER PARTY OF THE AFTERLIFE!... isn&apos;t as great  as it sounds..'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-995547697983952054</id><published>2009-02-06T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T15:42:18.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funerals are a funny thing.</title><content type='html'>Here for your reading pleasure, is how my day went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its starts normal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;seminary&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;school&lt;br /&gt;-see Sammy&lt;br /&gt;-see Best Friend&lt;br /&gt;-sees nurse&lt;br /&gt;-lunch&lt;br /&gt;-.....phone call....?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;AH, yes. The dreaded phone call.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I usually never get phone calls during school hours. Unless someone wants me to babysit later that day, but still. Phone calls during school are rare. So thats why i started to worry. Thank goodness it was during lunch and i was in the drama room. Almost..ironic in a sense. That prompting to go to the drama room when the idea was first pitched. There's twisted humor for you-you have to really want to see it. Now, if your mother were to call you at lunch, you automatically think, "uh-oh, who is dead/dying/sick/injured/getting a divorce/got in an accident..?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is amazing is when the answer is NONE OF THE ABOVE. One of those, "Oops! I meant to call (insert other persons name here)! Haha, sorry!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hahahaha, yeah..... I'm not that lucky. No sir. At lunch, the answer was (condensed for your sake) basically this,"Great grandma is in the hospital. Doesn't look good. Doctors aren't sure if she is stable enough to operate...I'm picking you up from school early. Love you, bye." Yeeaahhhh, that was it in a nut shell. From there..its been downhill....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As soon as my mom picks me up, I find out she has less than an hour to live. This was an hour ago. Whether or not she is still alive, I'm not sure. I don't believe she is. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's weird. My dad just saw her the other day.. THE OTHER DAY! and yet there she is! (or isnt) lying in a hospital bed, DYING. And I'm not there. Not there to say goodbye and tell her how much i am going to miss her and tell her how much i love her. No. Im here. Freaking blogging about it because its the only way i can vent right now. The last things i get to say to her are being written. At least its something right? Just not something she will read..or even Great Grandpa for that matter. I wonder how he's doing..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, within the next week or two. There will be a funeral. I will get dressed up in black clothing. Sit in pews and listen to family speak about my Great Grandmother. Then, thats where it will really hit me that she is not coming back. And i will cry for another week or so..and feel weird for a while. No one will want to talk about it. So i will be alone. In a corner. Trying to recall all the times i was there at her home. And trying to keep the picture of her face alive and smiling in my mind. Funerals are a funny thing. Possibly the only occasion where people are gathered together sharing each others pain and grief and sorrow, all united and filled with the same empty void. Amazing and sad at the same time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-995547697983952054?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/995547697983952054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/funerals-are-funny-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/995547697983952054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/995547697983952054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/funerals-are-funny-thing.html' title='Funerals are a funny thing.'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-4450049303813876008</id><published>2009-01-31T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T22:37:29.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PEPSI is amazing.</title><content type='html'>Yes, it is true. This weekend I went to the awesomest birthday party ever!! I am dead serious. Sam's mom made her a red velvet twilight cake!! And there was a water balloon fight and everything! It was SO awesome. Her mom is seriously one of the coolest moms ever. Plus we got to watch &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;BATMAN!!!&lt;/span&gt; =] it was cool. We all love christian bale, but he's mine. I found him first. HAHAHA, it's true. I did. Did you know he was the voice of John Smith's friend in Pocahontas. (the Disney version). Yes, that's right. And that was one of my favorite Disney movies sooooo, I technically did find Mr. Bale first. I just didn't know that until recently. Isn't that cool? I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, everything in life seems to be going okay. I guess.. I am super excited for &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;! Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE I get to see "Best Friend"!! Who is that? Well, his name will remain anonymous, but just know that he is a really cool person. He makes me laugh a lot. He always makes a bad day-not just better- &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;GOOD&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Its pretty awesome. HE is pretty awesome. We don't know each other that well, but I still think he is pretty awesome. A complete and total opposite from that other guy. In other words, I don't think Best Friend has ever not said, "hi!" to me at all. But I'm getting ahead of myself. He hasn't started ignoring me yet. We'll see. =] I really hope not though. This kid totally makes me smile without trying. AND he bought me a... &lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PEPSI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;=D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know. I can imagine the looks on your faces. PEPSI is the best and we all know it. And he bought a can of it for me. Now that is a dang good &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FRIEND&lt;/span&gt; if you ask me. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's all for now folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-4450049303813876008?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/4450049303813876008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/pepsi-is-amazing_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/4450049303813876008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/4450049303813876008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/pepsi-is-amazing_31.html' title='PEPSI is amazing.'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-1042849125943471098</id><published>2009-01-21T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T22:27:21.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Needles....are a Scary thing</title><content type='html'>Well, tonight I tried to sew. And it went alright. Everyone else got the hang of it, but me...ehhh.. not so much. I have no idea why, but when you are actually sitting in the chair ready to begin sewing together pieces of fabric, it actually becomes scary. Hahaha. Yes I know I am a dork. But I am totally serious. Its frightening. Thank goodness sis. Southwell was there to help. I totally would have like frozen. But other than that I had a lot of fun. The rest of the girls did an amazing job. Sewing is such a good thing to learn. Just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was pretty nice. It rained. Which was lovely. But today I felt even more sick. It sucked. I am soooo grateful for Dayquil. Definitely a lifesaver when you are up as early as me...Oh! Well, &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; completely ignored me again this morning. And then tonight he was nice and actually said hello? His mood swings are giving me whiplash. HAHAHA. &lt;em&gt;his &lt;/em&gt;excuse? he didn't want to bother me cause i was sick. i need someones opinion. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sweet?&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not?&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Am I Just Being A Totally Weird About This Whole Thing And Need To Relax And Let It Go?&lt;/span&gt; Hopefully i can get some friends to actually tell me their opinion. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I am completely wiped and am sooo ready for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-1042849125943471098?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/1042849125943471098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/needles.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1042849125943471098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/1042849125943471098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/needles.html' title='Needles....are a Scary thing'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-6080069876729577209</id><published>2009-01-20T20:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T21:08:28.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay, well I'm still not used to blogging. But hey! Its only day two. I was thinking about this earlier and it like all the suddenly hit me that people can actually read the words I write. How cool is that? I'm always worried that people never listen to what I have to say. And I admit that I am not all that interesting, but people have the option of reading my thoughts and/or opinions. It makes me feel a lot better. Almost like having a real purpose to be on the Internet now! hahaha. I never realized how fun this actually is. I always thought it was weird. I used to think of blogs as like an online diary, even though I had many friends tell me that's not the case, it still felt like that. Upon my sudden epiphany earlier, it was obvious this was a great way to get my thoughts and feelings out. This is a great start in my friends finally getting to listen. And that's all I ever asked was to Just Listen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Speaking of listening, has anyone ever read the book Just Listen by Sarah Dessen? It's a wonderful book. Inspiring. I recommend it to anyone. I got one of my best friends to read it and she is completely in love with Sarah Dessen's novels. She is an amazing writer. If anyone is looking for a good book to read, pick up one of her novels. My personal favorite is This Lullaby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Hmmmm, so I still have no idea if I'm doing this right. But that's okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nothing terribly exciting today. Actually, today was almost blah. I was perfectly happy today, but it seemed that everyone wasn't sharing my enthusiasm for today. Haven't you ever had a day where you are just happy for the sake of being happy? If so, then you know what I am talking about. Even though I said hi to &lt;em&gt;him &lt;/em&gt;today and he totally ignored me (jerk? or having a bad day? not sure yet) but THAT didn't even bring me down..much.. I still had an awesome day....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Until mr. langston told us about his cat dying. Now that was plain sad. THAT totally killed my happiness. I mean, mr. langston is my &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;favorite &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;teacher!! He is the best math teacher. And he is always so happy and funny. But today, he was like a depressed Elmo! Or Mickey  Mouse. No one wants that. It was sad. Extremely sad. I feel bad for the guy. He was trying to make jokes while explaining everything, but you could still hear his voice cracking a lot. Not the best time in &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; period, but it just makes you realize how real other people are. I don't think most students see their teachers as having a life outside of school. (Of course, after seeing your science teacher at the mall, things become VERY VERY clear. Seriously. That was creepy.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well, so much for today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Good Night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-6080069876729577209?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/6080069876729577209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/okay-well-im-still-not-used-to-blogging.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/6080069876729577209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/6080069876729577209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/okay-well-im-still-not-used-to-blogging.html' title=''/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450637701647763428.post-2029867622542033832</id><published>2009-01-19T15:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T15:37:17.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Blog Thing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay. So I am like totally new to this whole blog thing. So I'm just going to start with how my day went.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;First off, I love to shop. Seriously, shopping is like almost better than reading. Almost. =] I love finding amazing deals and buying costume jewelry. I did both today. So it was pretty awesome. I like cannot wait for school tomorrow so I can wear what I call the "Xanado Shirt". For some reason this shirt seriously reminds me of the movie Xanado. Now, I've only seen like twenty minutes of this movie, but even my aunt says the shirt reminds her of Xanado. She's seen the whole movie. More than once. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, I really don't have much more to say. Other than, I am off to go clean and then work on homework that I should have started yesterday.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3450637701647763428-2029867622542033832?l=beeslikehoney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/feeds/2029867622542033832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-first-blog-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2029867622542033832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3450637701647763428/posts/default/2029867622542033832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beeslikehoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-first-blog-thing.html' title='My First Blog Thing.'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17946358793379558223</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6tuoePb-BJk/SkWjGCig_OI/AAAAAAAAACc/gtoyUJPf9tY/S220/lalala.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
