<?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-3404363</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:23:01.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>c o m e a l i v e</title><subtitle type='html'>hi. i'm jenny. 20 year old mother to 1 year old cole. i live with my boyfriend, case in michigan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
i created this blog to filter out all of the stupid shit i would write in my &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com" title="moon-ridden"&gt;diary&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
some of the stuff i write about could be considered offensive, so if you are easily offend i suggest you leave.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;buy the ticket,
take the ride.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>238</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-93565698</id><published>2003-04-30T21:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-30T21:17:43.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's over because my hosting site discontinued free hosting and i lost all the images i had uploaded, as well as quite a bit of writing on my home page, that i stupidly did not back up.&lt;br /&gt;it's over because i don't really want to be so exposed anymore. i like privacy; i like secrets; i like the comfort level that &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com"&gt;livejournal&lt;/a&gt; gives &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/moon_ridden/"&gt;me&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drop me a line, if you want. add me as a friend if you have a livejournal. if you're not too sketchy, i'll add you back. i'm always up for making new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;make no mistake, this is not the end of the story. new plots are etching themselves into my woodwork even now. there are some scary situations and some really wonderful, rewarding ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just so over this place, so i'm finna roll out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-93565698?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/93565698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/93565698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93565698' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-88073920</id><published>2003-01-26T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-27T23:34:48.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when i was a child my head was in the clouds. in spite of everything i dreamed. i believed in God; i believed in love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i grew up. slowly at first, taking a blow and still believing. then the proverbial rug was pulled out from under me. i loved so fucking hard, and so wholly. and that ended. you all know the story. i can only talk about this so many times. at first i didn't realize that my entire being was changed. sometimes what hurts the most is the fact that i lost these ideals. i would love to be ignorant again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the questions that weighs on my mindwas posed by a friend to her general group, "can a cynic be a romantic". i put way too much thought into this on a personal level. and i don't know. do you have thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do know, that for me it's already done. you laugh becuase i'm only twenty, and that's fair. it's only been three years. i would rather be his side dish, then any else's main course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that this will all end quite badly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-88073920?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/88073920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/88073920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2003_01_26_archive.html#88073920' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-87130177</id><published>2003-01-08T16:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-08T16:25:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm cranky and sad and pensive and i have a huge headache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really want to watch &lt;i&gt;Run Lola Run&lt;/i&gt; right now, but I have to settle with &lt;i&gt;Ghost World&lt;/i&gt;. or Tori. she always makes me feel better, in that "i feel worse but i'm working through my emotions" sort of way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a frozen Snickers waiting for me for dessert. and a hot bath after that. those will, easily, be the highlight of my evening. fuck, probably my week. blah. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-87130177?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/87130177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/87130177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2003_01_05_archive.html#87130177' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-86759414</id><published>2002-12-31T14:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-31T14:53:35.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok, no offense to anyone, but editing a piece and revising it and all that? it gives me a stomach ache. i have to have this done by february 1st, and i hate what i have written so i have no desire to try and revise it, but i REALLY want to do this. because, even though i suck, i love to write and yeah. it would definitley be gratifying to be able to pull a book off a shelf and say "why yes, i have been published!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i hate that draft, motherfucking hellwhore piece of shit that it is, and am so totally unattached to it, now. so it feels so impossible to really put the effort into it that it needs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i've always been a huge procrastinator, but i'm down to the one month mark and can't procrastinate any longer and i feel like this is an opportunity that may not come along, again. so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my head is about to explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-86759414?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86759414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86759414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_12_29_archive.html#86759414' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-86720128</id><published>2002-12-30T20:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-30T20:25:23.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hmmm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://sminds.com/0.gif"&gt;&lt;table bordercolor="#333333" border="0" width="183" cellspacing="0"&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#666666"&gt; &lt;font color="#CCCCCC" &gt; &lt;b&gt;I have issues with...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#999999"&gt;&lt;font color="#ffffff"&gt;domination&lt;br&gt; sex&lt;br&gt; submission&lt;br&gt; men &lt;br&gt;discipline&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.similarminds.com/"&gt;Take Word Association Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-86720128?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86720128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86720128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_12_29_archive.html#86720128' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-86629642</id><published>2002-12-28T12:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-28T23:17:27.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;and the devil in the black dress &lt;br /&gt;watches over,&lt;br /&gt;my guardian angel walks away.&lt;br /&gt;life is short and love is always over in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;black wind come carry me far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the fire from the fireworks up above,&lt;br /&gt;with a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain.&lt;br /&gt;you run for cover in the temple of love&lt;br /&gt;Shine Like Thunder, Cry Like Rain&lt;br /&gt;but the temple of love grows old and strong,&lt;br /&gt;but the wind grows stronger,&lt;br /&gt;cold and long.&lt;br /&gt;and the temple of love will fall before&lt;br /&gt;this black wind calls my name to you no more.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mmmm. generic goth music.&lt;br /&gt;(expect a lot more shrouded lyrics. i live my life in metaphors, you know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-86629642?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86629642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86629642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_12_22_archive.html#86629642' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-86590717</id><published>2002-12-27T11:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-27T11:34:12.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so. christmas sucked. because i don't know why that day means anything to me. i do not practice any form of christianity, and futhermore the 25th isn't even Jesus' birthday. but i was still all emotional, which i covered up with being overly bitchy. and, yeah. the day sucked major ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still only have my first draft done of my essay for &lt;a href="http://http://www.teenmombook.com/"&gt;the compliation&lt;/a&gt; i'm going to be a part of. and i haven't finished anna's journal yet; not even close. i'm not going to make my deadline. i'm sure she doesn't mind, but i do. and i don't really feel much like writing all around, so i'm reviving my &lt;a href="http://jennyxxxx.diaryland.com"&gt;500 words project&lt;/a&gt;. maybe by february, i'll have a domain. maybe not. i'm also going to try and get in on the &lt;a href="http://1000journals.com"&gt;1000 journals project&lt;/a&gt; before it ends. i'm trying to make my mark; can you tell? i have to do &lt;i&gt;-something-&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;i'm considering removing my piercings. or at least my lip, and finding something smaller for my nose. i don't know. part of me feels the need to grow up, and the other part of me want's long, multi-colored funky dreads. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah, indecision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new years promise's to be fun. because i'm not going to my parents house this year. (last year i drank and entire bottle of Chardonnay in front of my mother. i had never been openly drunk around my parents before. heh. it was weird). this year, i'm staying the fuck home, drinking a lot of margaritas and watching the Sex in the City marathon. and silently think about the people i would love to kiss at midnight. but instead i'll kiss my hand (HA!) and cole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what else to say right now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-86590717?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86590717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86590717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_12_22_archive.html#86590717' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-86033350</id><published>2002-12-15T11:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-15T11:41:08.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>for anyone who doesn't know: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi. i moved out of the old apartment. and broke up with case. things got a little ugly at the end. cole is here. i am here. i am not used to this. &lt;br /&gt;there are (very busy!) train tracks very close to my apartment. thos would piss most people off, but i love trains, so it's cool. &lt;br /&gt;i am working, and posting a lot at my livejournal and listening to a lot of music. i am trying to figure out this singles thing. like how early is to early to have sex again? get into a relationship? am i done with boys for a while? where do i find girls in this god awful town?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the entire idea of relationships with ANYONE in ANY FORM gives me a headache. even just sex. i don't want to deal with -any of it-!! i want to disappear and have somebody take care of me for a while. that's what all my fantasies consist of right now. no xxx, just being cuddled and having someone sing to me and feed me soup and patt me on the head and say "there there". which means i'm more needy than ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hug me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-86033350?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86033350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/86033350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_12_15_archive.html#86033350' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-84641615</id><published>2002-11-16T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-16T20:46:13.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>-an ending. a transition-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the light&lt;br /&gt;at the end of this tunnel is&lt;br /&gt;a diffierent color, now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you are a different person&lt;br /&gt;than when we started this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i realize that i have never been the person&lt;br /&gt;i told you i was&lt;br /&gt;i thought i was&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-84641615?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/84641615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/84641615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84641615' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-83742006</id><published>2002-10-29T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-10-29T19:09:30.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel like i'm biting all the camgirls. because i am NOT a camgirl. but i am really sad right now. so i took some pictures of it. because people think that when i don't smile, i'm sad. and that's not it at all. i don't smile because i don't like my smile. when i'm sad, i get slightly psychotic. but, you know, what better to fight off sadness then vanity? &lt;br /&gt;so, here's me. sad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/sadness1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;notice the dark makeup. smudged from crying. oh, aren't i the drama queen? (yes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/sadness2.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah. my pain, my rage. you know all about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/sadness3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my favorite. check out the cheekbones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/sadness4.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i may be dead, but i'm still pretty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-83742006?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/83742006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/83742006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_10_27_archive.html#83742006' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-83559800</id><published>2002-10-26T13:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-28T11:36:54.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok. so i suck. &lt;br /&gt;it's been what? another month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;work, cole, baths, sleep, blah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i said recently "it's sad that i still think music is the answer. that listening to certain songs will solve my problems". i've been listening to a lot of Prince, The Neptunes, Magnetic Fields, Nirvana, and Sleater-Kinney. my life is random, and the music i'm listening to reflects that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;also&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: well, don't you look hot. w00t w00t!&lt;br /&gt;case: do not use your foolish internet lingo on me! &lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got my nose repierced, as well as the side of my lip. see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/piercings.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lately i'm into choices. next up will be a few weeks obsessing over the phrase "a means to an end". other side topics include but are not limited to: wanderlust, alternative mommy lifestyles, pop cultural feminism, the personal meaning of the triple goddess, work ethics, and always &lt;b&gt;"who am i; what do i want; and what do i stand for?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm picking myself apart, redefining, and putting it all back together again. over and over. until i'm happy with me. i have a feeling that i'll be doing this for a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;case and i are, actually, the best we've ever been i think. so it's ironic that i'm unsatisfied. i don't think i'll ever be satisfied. i think that i'm unreasonable and indecisive. reaccuring theme's, you know. i'm at a point where i need to make decisions about what kind of person i want to be and what type of life i want to lead and expose cole to. very hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm feeling closer to people that i've kept at arms length and more distant to people i feel that at times i've smothered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know that i'll ever finish that journal for anna. although i have set a date. the first of next year it will be done. and then i will start another one that i will make last all year. which should be easy, because i've all but abandoned paper and pen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, to sum up: work, teething, crossraods, choices, indecision, digital, camels, chipped black nail polish, nirvana, and &lt;i&gt;"it's hard for me to say what's right when all i wanna do is wrong"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(don't you just love how random and scattered i am?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-83559800?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/83559800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/83559800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_10_20_archive.html#83559800' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-81913545</id><published>2002-09-21T10:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-21T10:39:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>bits from the last few weeks that were written someplace else:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8/31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;cole is getting so big. he barley resembles the nursing, co-sleeping, cuddly baby that came out of my belly over a year ago. it tugs at my heart to see him becoming such independent and curious little boy. (i now understand..he WILL always be my baby)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9/02&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;and i feel the tugging, from some unknown part of myself, to talk to you. &lt;br /&gt;i still want you in my life in one form or another. &lt;br /&gt;and i still know that it's impossible.&lt;br /&gt;so i stay pissed. i concentrate on the bad and listen to music that reminds me of the humiliation. stupidity. confusion. hurt.&lt;br /&gt;and i warn myself to stay the fuck away from you; because even when i thought i was happy...well, i just wasn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see? you still move me to write terrible, melodramatic blather&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9/07&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;we bought mangos a few days ago. 2 for $3. i think that's a nice deal. &lt;br /&gt;the first night we had them in the house, i made brownies. so the mangos had to wait. &lt;br /&gt;now i'm sick. and they just won't taste right. nothing tastes right. &lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid they'll spoil. i've considered putting them in the freezer, but that takes some flavor out of them, right? also, no good.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9/11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;and i'm not as smart as a lot of you. i'm just starting. i don't post much, but i read -everything-. i have been soaking up everything. this weekend, i will be buying my first real feminist books. 3 of them. "Cunt" will be one of them, but the other two are up in the air, still. &lt;br /&gt;i have always needed a crutch. one of you has been a bit of a crutch for almost 4 years. and case has been a crutch. but i'm learning to stand on my own, now. i am learning to not wish for all of you to be at Speeds with me when a debate/argument/whatever sparks up; to speak for me. i should've been doing this years ago. but oh well- better late than never. and i am learning to do that because of you. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9/15&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/cole-upclose-small.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(that's all for now. i'll try to remember to update here more.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-81913545?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/81913545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/81913545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81913545' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80897090</id><published>2002-08-29T21:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T21:51:59.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1. i have monday off (as well as saturday and sunday). ROCK!&lt;br /&gt;2. place of employment does not mind facial piercings and oddly colored hair. so it's all go for my nose to be repierced. &lt;br /&gt;3. my dad is going to drive me to work from now on. how sweet!? now i don't have to deal with case's mean ass at 6am. whee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i am eternally pissed off at case. &lt;br /&gt;my entire body hurts. much worse then it did yesterday night. all i want is a bath and to curl up under my blanket. and i will do so- soon, even. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80897090?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80897090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80897090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80897090' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80855693</id><published>2002-08-29T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T00:11:33.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img SRC="http://ineureka.com/tarotreadings/funstuff/flowers/pansy.jpg" BORDER=5 height=258 width=239&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=0 CELLPADDING=0 COLS=1 WIDTH="345" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm a Pansy.&lt;/b&gt; The bloom of thought. Thoughts are my haven. I prefer solitude and quiet places so I can ponder uninterrupted. &lt;br&gt;&lt;font size=-2&gt;&lt;a href="http://ineureka.com/tarotreadings/funstuff/flowers/bloom.html" target="_new"&gt;What bloom are you&lt;/a&gt;? by &lt;a href="http://polly_snodgrass.livejournal.com"&gt;Polly_Snodgrass&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was supposed to be in bed by 10:30. it is now midnight. fuuuuuuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80855693?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80855693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80855693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80855693' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80849014</id><published>2002-08-28T21:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T21:17:23.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate it. oh my god do i hate it. i hate the mindlessness. i hate standing all day. i hate...everything except the smoke hut. &lt;br /&gt;my hands are so sore, and i have to do it again tomorrow and the next day. &lt;br /&gt;i tried not being resentful. maybe if he had picked me up on time, it would've worked. i keep crying and i don't know why. i'm really angry and i don't know why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm blaring this song by the Magnetic Fields over and over in my headphones until i'm bitter and cold (from the ac) enough to take a hot bath. then i'm going to bed. the volume is on max. when i close my eyes, it feels even louder. &lt;br /&gt;i wish i could take this song with me everywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;you're asking your own questions&lt;br /&gt;you're opening your doors&lt;br /&gt;i love you&lt;br /&gt;i can't touch you anymore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80849014?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80849014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80849014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80849014' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80817647</id><published>2002-08-28T06:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-28T06:09:49.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>for anyone who doesn't read my journal(s): i have a job. it's at a factory. it's from 6:30am to 2:30pm. except today, which is from 7am to 2:30pm. i'm excited about making money, but very unexcited about being away from cole; and working in a factory.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's 6:08am- my first day. in about twenty minutes i have to go wake cole and dress him. in about thirty minutes i have to wake case. he can dress himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(in advance, to case- whom i know will be reading this around my first break: i miss you guys. i love you. my feet hurt. i think i'm going to want a nap when i get home. but maybe not.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80817647?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80817647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80817647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80817647' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80757072</id><published>2002-08-26T22:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-26T22:34:57.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>if you read my journal, then you'll notice at the end of todays entry i quoted myself- something i wrote last night somewhere secret on the net. lovely dovey-ness about case. well, not really. but that's about as lovey dovey as i get. &lt;br /&gt;anyway. &lt;br /&gt;i'm fighting the urge to delete it. because i am pissed off again. i an TRYING to remember that this is a part of the (never-ending) process: happy, happy sex, anger, no sex, angry sex, make up, happy, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am so dysfunctional. &lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;and i'm the one with no soul,&lt;br /&gt;one above and one below&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80757072?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80757072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80757072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80757072' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80733682</id><published>2002-08-26T12:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-26T12:45:19.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a little old, but i didn't know about it. and it pisses me off and scares me and i fucking HATE THAT MAN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.latimes.com/la-oe-turley14aug14.story"&gt;Camps for Citizens: Ashcroft's Hellish Vision&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um, the ww II internment camps did us a lot of good, so this &lt;i&gt;must&lt;/i&gt; be a good idea, right? &lt;br /&gt;fucking bloody hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;case thinks that Bush is slowly setting up for Marshal Law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(link from &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/moderngypsy/"&gt;eliza&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80733682?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80733682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80733682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80733682' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80711988</id><published>2002-08-25T23:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T23:08:48.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cole finally went down for the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;case left at about 6, to go to a LAN party. cole was fine until he woke up from his nap around 8. he was looking at me weird, and just as i was carrying him out of the bedroom, he vomited all over me and him. so we showered and put on our pajamas. he was super clingy and fussy from there. i gave him some cool water and he ate some crackers. &lt;br /&gt;at 9:30 he's rubbing his eyes, so i carry him back into the bedroom. put him in his crib, and he starts screaming. so i pick him up and we lay on the bed. he starts drifting off, and we dance around the bedroom. lay him down again, and he's screaming again. dance some more, give him a bottle and rub his back. cradle him (like i haven't done in months) and sing and he passes out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, i hope he's feeling better tomorrow. my poor little man. &lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80711988?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80711988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80711988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80711988' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80668254</id><published>2002-08-24T18:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-24T18:54:40.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it really annoys me when people ask me, "do you like bright eyes? because i think you would."&lt;br /&gt;and i'm like, "yeah, i've been listening to him for a while now."&lt;br /&gt;almost two years, as i was getting drunk listening to "Sunrise, Sunset". and i didn't drink at all while pregnant. so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, ghost world? all these young'uns are acting like it's this great big secret that they all identify with Enid? whatever. &lt;br /&gt;other movies, too. American Beauty, Girl Interrupted, The Virgin Suicides. (the books were SO much better then the movies for the last two.)&lt;br /&gt;hi. people create characters like that BECAUSE everyone can identify with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when did i become such a snob? &lt;br /&gt;(i think it's because i have no tolerance)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80668254?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80668254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80668254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80668254' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80507101</id><published>2002-08-21T00:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T00:08:56.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my nose ring is gone. :(&lt;br /&gt;there's an entry about it &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also. &lt;a href="http://glitterkitty.net/mmm/"&gt;judy&lt;/a&gt;, you will be missed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80507101?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80507101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80507101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80507101' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80494156</id><published>2002-08-20T18:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-20T18:10:41.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really want to write a journal entry. but diaryland seems to be down. most annoying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is all. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80494156?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80494156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80494156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80494156' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80462033</id><published>2002-08-20T00:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-20T00:52:37.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com"&gt;lookit!!&lt;/a&gt; i redesigned my journal. isn't it pretty? i like it a lot. it's a little trendy, but i don't care. i didn't do it in the name of fitting in so it doesn't count. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really annoyed at a lot of things and a lot of people right now. well, not just right now. within the last month or so, i guess. and i feel bad about being so annoyed with said people because i know i was there once, too. so, for one, i shouldn't judge and two, i should be empathetic towards them. but i'm not. so i'm a mean girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to take cole and run away to europe. not any particular place, just bash around all over. there are, of course, certain places i would have to visit. &lt;br /&gt;also, i want a new identity. because then people couldn't say, "oh, you're jenny washington! i heard you did this (or him or her)". i would be able to say, "i do think your mistaken. my name is blah." that would be super nice.&lt;br /&gt;that kind of silly, because no one even approaches me about any of that anymore. but the fear is always there, y'know? and who knows what some of the shadesters i used to know have said about me since high school. and who knows where some of said shadesters are? i'm always afraid i'll run into them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really like my new layout. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80462033?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80462033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80462033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_18_archive.html#80462033' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80293944</id><published>2002-08-15T18:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T18:44:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cole is napping, the simpsons are on, and i am eating a few steak fries. &lt;br /&gt;life is ok for the moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always feel so silly, posting about all the messed up shit and how stressed i am and blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;all of which is true, but god. it's so depressing. and i'm usually pretty ok. so don't think that i'm suicidal or that i'm going to have a nervous breakdown. i'm ok. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;case is out buying dinner. he always asks me what i want before he goes. and i always tell him, "i don't know. just get whatever looks good to you." then after he leaves, i know what i want: &lt;a href="http://yummyfood.diaryland.com/mexfiesta.html"&gt;Mexican Fiesta Casserole&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next month i am going to print out, like, all the ingredients for all the dishes on &lt;a href="http://yummyfood.diaryland.com/index.html"&gt;shannons recipe site&lt;/a&gt; and buy them. also, the ingredients for hummus and falafel. yum.&lt;br /&gt;le sigh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80293944?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80293944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80293944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80293944' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80287931</id><published>2002-08-15T15:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T15:38:28.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am so exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not with cole at all, either. yeah, he's started "climbing", and has figured out the baby-proof gadgets on the cupboards; but &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; else has my head ready to explode. money, car, the endless mess [clean!? what is that??], family, case...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's kind of funny, because i know that once i am employed most of these stressors will be greatly reduced. &lt;br /&gt;how backwards is &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80287931?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80287931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80287931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80287931' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80088698</id><published>2002-08-11T00:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-11T00:50:00.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everything is incredibley shitty right now. &lt;br /&gt;and yes, i mean Everything. i am not over dramatizing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't go into detail. or rather i won't. i'm angry.&lt;br /&gt;and i am sincere when i say i don't see things looking up anytime soon. &lt;br /&gt;but we're trying. &lt;br /&gt;and i'm trying to stay positive, because cole needs that. he deserves that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just feel so worn and frusterated and alone. and a lot of other things -feelings- that i'm not comfortable sharing. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80088698?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80088698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80088698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_archive.html#80088698' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-80074558</id><published>2002-08-10T15:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-10T15:55:49.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's kind of weird.&lt;br /&gt;because it really shouldn't matter to me. not at all.&lt;br /&gt;and in a while, it won't anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flicker. flicker. fade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;tell me what you wanted to hear &lt;br /&gt;let me do the right thing &lt;br /&gt;let me do the wrong thing &lt;br /&gt;and if it's ever this clear &lt;br /&gt;i will only say it once &lt;br /&gt;so turn the amps way up &lt;br /&gt;so you can hear nothing&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-80074558?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80074558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/80074558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80074558' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-79995380</id><published>2002-08-08T16:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T16:10:15.120-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hi. &lt;br /&gt;it's been a while. our phone was disconnected. and then it was set to be reconnected. and then ameritech, no, SBC decided to be shadesters and i said fuck you to them, and got a new phone company.&lt;br /&gt;but now i am back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is not to say i'll be updating a whole hell of a lot. i really think that i don't have anything left to say right now. &lt;br /&gt;scary. more &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com/020808_66.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;(irony= i just said that i have nothing to say. i know that i coul right a number of entries on that subject. but i won't bore you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-79995380?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79995380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79995380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79995380' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-79130941</id><published>2002-07-18T22:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-18T22:37:56.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wrote an entry for him &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been a long day; and tomorrow will be even longer, i'm sure. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-79130941?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79130941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79130941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_07_14_archive.html#79130941' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-79104808</id><published>2002-07-18T09:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-18T09:50:57.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today is cole's birthday. &lt;br /&gt;he' one year old. &lt;br /&gt;at this time one year ago, he had been out of my belly for almost an hour. i was in recovery, and a nurse was tickling my foot. i started giggling and she was afraid that the anasthesia had worn off. i told her i just thought it was funny that she was tickingly my foot- which is extremly ticklish- and i couldn't feel anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(more later)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-79104808?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79104808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/79104808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_07_14_archive.html#79104808' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-78708308</id><published>2002-07-08T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-08T20:55:44.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so, we're back. we got home at around 3am last night. it was a nice trip overall. there were some really good times and some not-so-good times but i'm glad i went. it was nice to have alone time and be in a peaceful, calming, beautiful (the bayous!) place. &lt;br /&gt;although i could never live there. many people will disagree, and i know it's -everywhere- and not just in the south, but i really felt the...prejudices that remain. and, of course, the heat was absurd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is my birthday. i'm 20. i'm trying to be happy and excited about it but i've been a bit pensive and nostalgic all day. it's bittersweet. i remember being 16 and wanting so badly to be older. now i've reached a said olderness and i want to go back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"When one door of happiness closes, &lt;br /&gt;another opens; but often we look so long &lt;br /&gt;at the closed door that we do not see the &lt;br /&gt;one which has opened for us."&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;-Helen Keller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(thank you for the birthday well wishes, &lt;a href="http://novacaine.diaryland.com"&gt;you&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://chaos007.diaryland.com"&gt;guys&lt;/a&gt;!!! love!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-78708308?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78708308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78708308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_07_07_archive.html#78708308' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-78348938</id><published>2002-06-29T08:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-29T08:55:03.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we're doing a bit better. it always seems to go like that. from pretty good, to fucking terrible, to ok. &lt;br /&gt;i'm still angry, but i'm [re]learning how to keep it all in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and cole and i will be leaving for a week on the 3rd. so that will be a nice little break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm worried about this trip because:&lt;br /&gt;-it's 18+ hours in a van. Cole rarley goes 2 hours in the car w/o getting fussy. oy. &lt;br /&gt;-it's the first time i've been to the south since i went to see Jay. irrational fear, but fear all the same. &lt;br /&gt;-my cd burner may not burn deep enough for the discman i'll be using. i know i can just take regular cd's with me BUT I WANT CERTAIN MIXES WITH ME, TOO! lakwjfdlaksdflkasldf!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i probably will not be heard from either here or at my journal until i get back on the 7th (the 8th is my birthday!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so.....&lt;br /&gt;that is all :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-78348938?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78348938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78348938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_23_archive.html#78348938' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-78097803</id><published>2002-06-23T12:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-23T12:12:26.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>last night i was very drunk. it was interesting, as i was drinking alone for the first time in a long time. case was at some stupid lame-ass bonfire. he said he'd be home before three. he, again, wasn't home until seven. &lt;br /&gt;i am extrememly angry at him right now. the reasons do span farther then the (stupid, lame ass) bonfire, although that is included. reasons that are both too numerous and to personal to post here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sad. unbelieveably fucking sad. and i'm angry. angrier then i have been in a long time- and that is saying a lot.&lt;br /&gt;and i couldn't dislike certain people any more if i tried. you are a joke. &lt;br /&gt;fuck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;lord, i won't cry over anything at all.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(especially not you. not anymore. not fucking worth the energy)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-78097803?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78097803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78097803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_23_archive.html#78097803' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-78096999</id><published>2002-06-23T11:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-23T11:39:26.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the google game&lt;br /&gt;type "[your name] is" on googles search engine- &lt;br /&gt;include quotation marks or google with ignore the word "is"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(swiped from &lt;a href="http://www.tesserae.org/abaya/"&gt;renee&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jen is a badass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is wicked tired now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is the coolest person ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is committed to a dialogue leading to the integration of Chinese and Christian faith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is in the background&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is angry &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jen is an eighteen year old currently residing in Mizunami, Japan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is 34 2000, oil on panel 36"x24" Price: $750.00. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is a collection of reflections of those I have already passed through and contemplation of those that are waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jen is this sad? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is an exceptional person who is to be worshipped and adored at all times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is always special. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is frequently up to something. ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is continuing to play around &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen is gaping like a fish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-78096999?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78096999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78096999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_23_archive.html#78096999' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-78036440</id><published>2002-06-21T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-21T15:00:08.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.smattering.org"&gt;friday five&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Do you live in a house, an apartment or a condo? &lt;/b&gt;a decently sized one bedroom apartment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Do you rent or own? &lt;/b&gt;rent, of course. can you own an apartment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Does anyone else live with you? &lt;/b&gt; just babysdaddy and my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. How many times have you moved in your life? &lt;/b&gt;three times...maybe four if you count a nightmarish summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. What are your plans for this weekend? &lt;/b&gt;relax, get coffee, maybe dye and relax my hair or start dreads, see a movie (haven't decided which yet) and as always, live beyond our means. i want to get my labret pierced but i don't see it happening. bah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-78036440?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78036440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/78036440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#78036440' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77914467</id><published>2002-06-18T21:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-18T21:47:13.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>there's a new entry in my &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com"&gt;journal&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i wrote it last night. it's topic is a little more personal then what i usually write.&lt;br /&gt;so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77914467?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77914467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77914467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#77914467' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77792202</id><published>2002-06-15T20:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-15T20:35:35.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;a very late &lt;a href="http://www.smattering.org"&gt;friday five&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. How often do you do laundry?&lt;/b&gt; usually a couple loads a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. What's in a typical wash load?&lt;/b&gt; underwear, socks, favorite shirts and pants, cole's socks, tee shirts, shorts and overalls, and every other week we do bedding and towels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Front or top loader? Powder or liquid detergent?&lt;/b&gt; our apt's communal machines have top loaders. the laundromat we frequent if we just want to do a weeks woth in one swoop has huge side loader. we use liquid detergent, although at some point this summer, i'm hoping to make this &lt;a href="http://mmm.glitterkitty.net/journal/journal.cgi?folder=journal&amp;next=18"&gt;ho-made sandalwood detergent&lt;/a&gt;, which is decribed as a gel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Do you use fabric softener in the rinse cycle?&lt;/b&gt; Only if we're at the laundormat and have enough change for a package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Dryer or clothesline?&lt;/b&gt; mostly the dryer. when we are short on cash and i hand wash stuff at home, we use the shower curtain rod and bathroom door with the fan blowing in as a makeshift closeline. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77792202?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77792202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77792202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77792202' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77782878</id><published>2002-06-15T14:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-15T14:24:29.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>two more poems added at my homepage-thing. they're actually pretty old, but i haven't written anything new, so....&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;a href="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/sunday.html"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt; . &lt;a href="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/flapping.html"&gt;two&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77782878?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77782878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77782878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77782878' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77781615</id><published>2002-06-15T13:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-15T13:36:10.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>//my name is: jenny&lt;br /&gt;//i may seem: outgoing&lt;br /&gt;//but i am: shy and quiet&lt;br /&gt;//people who know me think i am: moody&lt;br /&gt;//if you knew me you'd probably think i'm: a geek&lt;br /&gt;//sometimes i feel: nervous&lt;br /&gt;//my days are pretty: laid-back&lt;br /&gt;//in the morning i feel: sore&lt;br /&gt;//in school i: skipped alot, got high, and then amazed teacher with my work&lt;br /&gt;//i like to sleep: nude, with a sheet&lt;br /&gt;//if i could be doing anything right now i would: be taking a nap&lt;br /&gt;//money is: a bitch&lt;br /&gt;//one thing i wish i had is: all the books i want OR endless art supplys OR enough money to live "comfortably"&lt;br /&gt;//one thing i have that i wish i didn't is: a really sore back&lt;br /&gt;//all you need is: coffee&lt;br /&gt;//all i need is: time&lt;br /&gt;//if i had one wish it would be: for all of our worries to be solved/go away&lt;br /&gt;//when i look in the mirror i see: glasses, nose piercing, and orange/blonde/black hair. &lt;br /&gt;//love is: wonderful...but not always the most important thing, nor all it's cracked up to be&lt;br /&gt;//my body is: scarred&lt;br /&gt;//my mind is: burned out&lt;br /&gt;//if an angel flew into my window at night I would: say "well shit. guess i was wrong"&lt;br /&gt;//if a demon flew into my window at night I would: "well shit. guess i was wrong"&lt;br /&gt;//something i want but i don't really need is: a golden retriever&lt;br /&gt;//something i need but i don't really want is: a job&lt;br /&gt;//i live for: cole&lt;br /&gt;//i am afraid of: bugs, bats, sharks, and tornados&lt;br /&gt;//it makes me angry that: some people are so stupid/ignorant/arrogant/stubborn&lt;br /&gt;//i dream about: really weird shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77781615?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77781615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77781615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77781615' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77671499</id><published>2002-06-12T18:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-12T18:26:41.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>god, i need a change so bad!&lt;br /&gt;i want:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to cut and dye my hair&lt;br /&gt;my eyebrow pierced OR&lt;br /&gt;my labret pierced.&lt;br /&gt;tattoos! (emo stars, drangonfly, and something not trendy!)&lt;br /&gt;more jeans!&lt;br /&gt;a jean jacket!&lt;br /&gt;new shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really wish i could get away with bright red hair...&lt;br /&gt;what's keeping me from doing some of that stuff:&lt;br /&gt;they're drastic changes. and i'm not sure it would look ok. and i'm really quite vain, so if it looks bad i will be really upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le sigh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77671499?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77671499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77671499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77671499' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77668078</id><published>2002-06-12T16:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-12T16:47:01.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;table bgcolor=#0033D8 width=300 height=30 border=1 bordercolor=#0033D8 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=0&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#CAE6FE width=231&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font color=black face="Arial Narrow" size=3&gt;77%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#0033D8&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font face="Arial Narrow" size=3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 77% worshipable! And you? &lt;a href="http://www.eccentrically-charged.com/quizzes.php?i=1"&gt;Find out!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77668078?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77668078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77668078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77668078' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77632527</id><published>2002-06-11T20:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-11T20:50:25.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.abnormalcy.com/~quizzes/discgirl/discgirl.html" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.abnormalcy.com/~quizzes/discgirl/images/magrat.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;Find out &lt;a href="http://www.abnormalcy.com/~quizzes/discgirl/discgirl.html" target="new"&gt;which Discworld girl you are&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77632527?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77632527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77632527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77632527' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77631799</id><published>2002-06-11T20:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-11T20:30:24.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seven Survey&lt;br /&gt;[swiped from &lt;a href="http://novacaine.diaryland.com/"&gt;Patsy&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things that scare you:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. bats&lt;br /&gt;2. harm coming to cole&lt;br /&gt;3. being totally alone&lt;br /&gt;4. being on a ship and having it sink&lt;br /&gt;5. being on a bridge and having it break&lt;br /&gt;6. never again doing anything that matter and it worthwhile&lt;br /&gt;7. spiders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things that make you laugh:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cole making faces at me&lt;br /&gt;2. Case making faces at me&lt;br /&gt;3. Case trying to tickle me.&lt;br /&gt;4. any number of inside jokes between Case and i.&lt;br /&gt;5. any number of inside jokes between my sister and i.&lt;br /&gt;6. rabbits fighting&lt;br /&gt;7. making fun of and scoffing at stupid people inside my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things you love:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cole&lt;br /&gt;2. Case&lt;br /&gt;3. Music&lt;br /&gt;4. Writing&lt;br /&gt;5. Reading in the bath&lt;br /&gt;6. Camel Turkish Gold Cigarettes&lt;br /&gt;7. Food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things you hate:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Politics&lt;br /&gt;2. Arrogant people&lt;br /&gt;3. Self righteous people&lt;br /&gt;4. Crying in public&lt;br /&gt;5. Feeling powerless&lt;br /&gt;6. Constnatly being asked "what's wrong? are you ok? talk!"&lt;br /&gt;7. Being so easily annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things you don't understand:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. child abuse&lt;br /&gt;2. political  agendas and those who stand behind them.&lt;br /&gt;3. why people love debates so much.&lt;br /&gt;4. why i'm so over- emotional&lt;br /&gt;5. myself&lt;br /&gt;6. Case&lt;br /&gt;7. my father&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things on your desk:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. the cordless phone&lt;br /&gt;2. a picture of cole when he was 2 months old.&lt;br /&gt;3. our digital camera.&lt;br /&gt;4. an ashtray&lt;br /&gt;5. an empty pack of Camels&lt;br /&gt;6. a couple packages of stickers&lt;br /&gt;7. a bottle of black nail polish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Right now you are:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. blinking a lot&lt;br /&gt;2. rubbing my eyes&lt;br /&gt;3. looking down at cole, who's attacking the Playstation&lt;br /&gt;4. craving a cigarette&lt;br /&gt;5. wanting more coffee&lt;br /&gt;6. ridiculing myself for crying&lt;br /&gt;7. waiting for an email&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven facts about you:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have a son&lt;br /&gt;2. i love rockstars&lt;br /&gt;3. i love music&lt;br /&gt;4. i think gender is fluid and love gender benders&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm going to watch The Velvet Goldmine and have a glass of wine later&lt;br /&gt;6. I'll always want to be an author&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm very passionate and emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things you plan to do before you die:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. live in NYC&lt;br /&gt;2. Have a book published&lt;br /&gt;3. Vacation in England and Iceland&lt;br /&gt;4. Meet Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;5. Go to college to study all kinds of useless but interesting topics.&lt;br /&gt;6. start a positive, supportive home for young girls and mothers. &lt;br /&gt;7. be less weak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seven things you can do:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. sew&lt;br /&gt;2. paint&lt;br /&gt;3. understand html&lt;br /&gt;4. argue well, and usually win&lt;br /&gt;5. swim&lt;br /&gt;6. dance (ballet. tap)&lt;br /&gt;7. use big words. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77631799?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77631799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77631799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77631799' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77630229</id><published>2002-06-11T19:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-11T19:44:54.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we just got back from Speeds [the coffee shop i've been frequenting for about 3 years]. i don't think i'll be going back. &lt;br /&gt;for a stupid reason, really. it all boils down to not enjoying it anymore. the only good thing about the place is the coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm sick of the arrogance. the self righteousness. the endless debates over trendy "Buzz" topics: &lt;br /&gt;politics, war, the government, sexuality, religion, current issues, ad nauseum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm a baby. i can't handle other peoples opinions when i feel that said opinions are so very wrong and absurd. &lt;br /&gt;so. we left, because i started crying. and then continued to cry and rant about it all the way home. i pulled my comments off the &lt;a href="http://pub48.bravenet.com/forum/show.php?usernum=4115598494&amp;cpv=1" alt="case's message board"&gt;message board&lt;/a&gt; that started this. i considered (and am still considering) pulling all 3 of my sites down. for no good reason. and i probably won't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to miss Speeds- as it's one of the only two places that serves coffee i like. but it's company is not worth the coffee. &lt;br /&gt;and as for it's patrons- they are anathema to me. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77630229?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77630229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77630229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77630229' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77564748</id><published>2002-06-10T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-10T10:09:34.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>egads. &lt;br /&gt;it's now 10:06am. i am no longer drunk. but i am still spaced out from 4 (rather large) glasses of wine. so bear with me. &lt;br /&gt;case is still sleeping. cole is still at the sitters. we pick him up in a little under 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now i am chain-smoking and sipping water. i'm really hungry but i know better. &lt;br /&gt;and i'm sick of trying to type, so i leave you with a recent picture of cole. it was taken yesterday right before we left for the sitters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/blog8.jpg" border=1 alt="little man"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77564748?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77564748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77564748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77564748' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77554197</id><published>2002-06-10T01:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-10T01:36:11.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm really drubnk. it's 1:33am and cole is at a sitters and anna is going to send me a cinnimon role recipe &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm really drunk,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i reccommend Red Rose Wine to anytone and everyone!!!!!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wooooooohhoooooo am i ever wastesd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps- to those concerned -and i hipe you know who you are- time away or 'alone time' can be a great thing. paint, work, write, go about your lives. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77554197?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77554197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77554197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77554197' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77533570</id><published>2002-06-09T14:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-09T14:56:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yesterday, after i got home, case and i couldn't connect. we couldn't "click". so we were pretty much silent. &lt;br /&gt;he left last night @ around 9pm. he told me he was going to pick up more cigarettes...&lt;br /&gt;he didn't return until 7am this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess he went to Lances house and they had a bonfire. &lt;br /&gt;there were revelations and breakdowns and redemption. religious expereinces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or something like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever. i'm mad. &lt;br /&gt;no, really fucking pissed. and i don't think i'm being "immature" for feeling that way. i don't think that *I* and the one who's ruining the day or our plans for the night because i am NOT OK with him dissappearing for 10 hours. he said he tried to call. fine. that's great. he couldn't get through because i was online....&lt;br /&gt;LANCE HAS A COMPUTER! HE HAS 5 FUCKING COMPUTERS! FUCKING EMAIL ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and even beyond that, you don't do that to your girlfriend and son! what if there had been an emergency?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so angry right now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77533570?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77533570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77533570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77533570' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77507213</id><published>2002-06-08T15:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-08T16:33:23.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;--South Park Jenny--&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/spjenny.gif" border=2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[&lt;a href="http://southpark.gamesweb.com/flash/sp-studio.html" target=_blank&gt;go make your own!&lt;/a&gt;]]&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77507213?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77507213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77507213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77507213' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77506632</id><published>2002-06-08T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-08T15:15:36.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so tired and hot and a little stinky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we [cole and i] just got back from "The Worlds Largest Breakfast Table" (but not really. i'm sure there are bigger ones). we went with my mother because (1) i needed out of the apartment. badly. and it was something to do and (2) it gave Case peaceful alone time in which he could sleep and relax. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the highlights were meeting up with an old HS friend I haven't seen in forever. I still adore her. and phone #'s were exchanged so hopefully i'll be able to go hang out with her. also, mom bought me two soybean candles. they're scented. one is Sandalwood and the other is Capaccino. wonderful! the man who sold us the candles was super painoid about the government. he was really sketchy. he scared my mom but i thought it was halarious. &lt;br /&gt;and of course, the iced mocha i had was great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the low point was the annoying entertainment. This guy names Mr Randy was singing wannabe top 40 inspirational christian music. and he rapped. he rapped about pakistan and afganistan. it was painful to watch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we went to Barnes and Noble. i know: bad corprate chain bookstore blah blah. but it's not like we have anything else here! and i an not traveling 30 minutes to an hour for a fucking book! anyway, lots of book that i drooled over. my birthday's coming up and mom has promised me a sizley gift card to B&amp;N, so i will wait it out and splurge when july comes around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the first set of annas photocopied journal pages just arrived, and i'm waiting to read them until cole's asleep and the Capaccino candle is burning and i have strawberries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all is well. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77506632?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77506632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77506632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77506632' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77472412</id><published>2002-06-07T15:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-07T15:16:19.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt; anna said:&lt;br /&gt;and we're going to get completely stinking drunk and watch bad movies, &lt;br /&gt;and i'm going to cook (focaccia, angel hair in garlic and oil, cinnamon rolls, everything from scratch), and... and what?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha! i, too, will be getting drunk this weekend! finally! and i say finally because i have not had a drop of alcohol since february! and a friend will be watching Cole overnight! and there will be uninterrupted nookie! but first we will rent Not Another Teen Movie -which i have not yet seen. and hopefully it will be good- or at least funny! and even if it isn't, i'm sure i will laugh anyway because i will be good-chardonnay-happy-drunk as opposed to hugging-the-toilet-until-5am-bacardi-drunk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i will not even humor myself in the idea of cooking -anything- from scratch...because it's just not possible. whenever i cook anything from scratch the smoke alarm goes off and the neighbors get annoyed...&lt;br /&gt;although they have *no room* to talk because, never fail, every satuday night at around 2 am [the bars close] there are big jerry springer-style brawls right in front of our window!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77472412?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77472412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77472412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77472412' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77446016</id><published>2002-06-06T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-06T23:10:49.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm not entirley convinced but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/immandy.jpg" alt="I'm Mandy Slade!"&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;a href="http://www27.brinkster.com/ladyspyder/vgquiz.html"&gt;Which Velvet Goldmine Character are you, darling?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...i guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also!&lt;br /&gt;1- i love the white stripes!!&lt;br /&gt;2- i need to be a part of a dance party! asap!&lt;br /&gt;3- i think that Kelly Osborne did a great job w/ Papa Don't Preach.&lt;br /&gt;4- Case is uncomfortable The Velvet Goldmine. &lt;br /&gt;5- i LOVE the Velvet Goldmine. must rent the Velvet Goldmine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and lastly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GENDER IS FLUID! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77446016?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77446016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77446016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77446016' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77442848</id><published>2002-06-06T21:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-06T21:35:58.203-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1- i'm really excited to see the White Stripes perform on the movie awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- i'm annoyed that they sold out. and so quickly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, the dichotomy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77442848?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77442848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77442848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77442848' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77391706</id><published>2002-06-05T17:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T17:55:23.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so, after the last post we all got ready and headed out.&lt;br /&gt;and now cole and i are home again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was an argument between case and i. i'm not going into detail because (1) he's not here to defend himself (2) i can't NOT be baised when i'm angry and (3) really, even with the little buit of hindsight i've got, it was so childish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i won't say it's all case's fault, because i know i'm to blame as well. and i won't say it's all my fault because it's just not. not all of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm home, listening to good music, waiting for my chocolate pudding to thicken. cole's napping. i'm thinking this is a good time to start the project. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and later, he will bring me home cheesy spaghetti bake and chocolate chip cheesecake. &lt;br /&gt;and hopefully i'll be able to swallow my pride and put this past us so we don't end up giving eachother the silent treatment for the rest of the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le sigh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77391706?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77391706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77391706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77391706' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77385836</id><published>2002-06-05T15:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T15:21:10.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;p style=" font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 40pt;"&gt;16&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style=" font-family: Times New Roman,Verdana,Arial; font-size: 12;"&gt;I act like I'm 16.&lt;br&gt;This test was brought to you by &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/~unknownj"&gt;James&lt;/a&gt; - Part of the David and James phenomenon. Take it &lt;a href="http://www.music-review.org/test.asp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77385836?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77385836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77385836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77385836' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77384431</id><published>2002-06-05T14:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T14:43:28.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.redhairedgirl.com/sandbox.html"&gt;carrie&lt;/a&gt; said it first, and she was right on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...a &lt;a href="http://www.babiesalley.com/silverstream.html"&gt;stroller&lt;/a&gt;, that is on sale for $2,100.&lt;br /&gt;regulalry $4,700.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Unmatched elegance, it embodies the class of the Old World"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever. some people have far too much money on their hands.&lt;br /&gt;(which isn't to say the stroller isn't pretty...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77384431?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77384431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77384431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77384431' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77383817</id><published>2002-06-05T14:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T14:28:20.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm still loving the playlist i posted a few days ago. &lt;br /&gt;and when i love something, be it a person, place, idea, piece of art, or in this case a playlist, i want the whole world to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to burn a million copys of this list and spinkle them -all faery dust like- into all the houses- down all the chimneys; place them under childrens pillows [although they can keep the teeth. ew.]. put a copy in all easter baskets, attatch one to every chistmas present. chuck a few into every car i pass saying "try it! you'll love it! sorry- put some ice on it! this is a no-fault state! ha!". slip one into every mailbox with a note attched that promises "this is &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; 100000000000000 hours of free AOL!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my lame-ass attempt at humor, but it's got me in a fit of giggles.&lt;br /&gt;it's funny because it's true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so weird sometimes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77383817?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77383817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77383817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77383817' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77382094</id><published>2002-06-05T13:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T13:40:06.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;you can't get through it,&lt;br /&gt;you can't get over it,&lt;br /&gt;you can't get around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's like in a dream,&lt;br /&gt;you open your mouth to scream&lt;br /&gt;and you won't make a sound.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77382094?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77382094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77382094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77382094' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77337894</id><published>2002-06-04T13:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-04T13:39:34.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-going grocery shopping&lt;br /&gt;which is exciting because i mean fresh fruits and veggies and yogurt and stuffed pepper and other wonderful foods. yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-possibly going to get coffee.&lt;br /&gt;because that has become a staple of our life. it's something to do, it's cheap, and the coffee is good. now if only i can find a sitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-going swimming!&lt;br /&gt;if the weather remains decent. but i think the sky is about to burst again. but i really want to go swimming. i love swimming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've got to start this project i made myself a part of. it's a little nerve wracking- for no good reason. i'm just too hard on myself. &lt;br /&gt;but i want to make it good and interesing.&lt;br /&gt;and there's another project i have to start and that one will be stressful at first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;must.dive.in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77337894?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77337894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77337894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77337894' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77250952</id><published>2002-06-02T10:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-02T10:56:28.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's really weird smoking a regular cigarette after many packs of 100's. regulars are so small!!!&lt;br /&gt;does anybody [who smokes..] know if Lucky Strikes are still making filtered cigarettes? because i can't find them anywhere and it makes me sad. i wanna be all View Askew-ish..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77250952?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77250952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77250952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77250952' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77249338</id><published>2002-06-02T09:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-02T09:29:28.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lavenderdisaster.com/lj_quizzes/madonna/madonna.html" target="_new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.lavenderdisaster.com/lj_quizzes/madonna/soul.jpg" border="1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size="1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lavenderdisaster.com/lj_quizzes/madonna/madonna.html"&gt;I'm soul Madonna, who are you?&lt;/a&gt; Madonna Quiz by &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/turi/"&gt;Turi.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to quit with all these quizzes. oy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77249338?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77249338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77249338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_06_02_archive.html#77249338' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77219539</id><published>2002-06-01T10:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-01T10:44:28.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://kingdomoftula.com/~forgiveness/tests/sin/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://kingdomoftula.com/~forgiveness/tests/sin/anger.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;big surprise there....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77219539?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77219539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77219539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77219539' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77206842</id><published>2002-05-31T23:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-01T09:00:17.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a little layout tweaking.&lt;br /&gt;i just couldn't handle the colors. &lt;br /&gt;one day i'll figure out how to make a red/black/white layout that i like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm done for the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77206842?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77206842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77206842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77206842' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77205103</id><published>2002-05-31T22:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-31T22:07:07.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.resentment.org/lost/reincarnation/pixiewings/flb.html" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://users.resentment.org/lost/reincarnation/souls/nymph.jpg" border="0" alt="take the francesca lia block book quiz!"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were a Francesca Lia Block book, which one would you be? take the quiz &lt;a href="http://users.resentment.org/lost/reincarnation/pixiewings/flb.html" target="_new"&gt;here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never read any of these books...so i don't know what this is talking about.&lt;br /&gt;ah, more books to add to my to-read list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(far too many "to"s in that last sentence...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my eyes still hurt.&lt;br /&gt;and i'm sad.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77205103?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77205103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77205103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77205103' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77201508</id><published>2002-05-31T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-31T19:48:37.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;and it hurts to want everything&lt;br /&gt;and nothing at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;i want what's yours and i want what's mine;&lt;br /&gt;i want you, but i'm not giving in this time. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77201508?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77201508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77201508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77201508' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77184099</id><published>2002-05-31T10:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-31T10:48:04.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my dream last night was really vivid. so clear that the only way i knew it was a dream was by the absurdity of some of the situations.&lt;br /&gt;i don't realy want to share all of it. it was honest and very telling. &lt;br /&gt;and it comforts me now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in one part of it, i bought a book. i have no idea what the book was, but in my dream i wanted it so badly and i bought it. i felt deep happiness and satisfaction in the knowledge that the book was completely mine. it belonged only to me. something of my own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;she knows its a sin&lt;br&gt;break him down break her down again&lt;br&gt;its a sin&lt;br&gt;force him down force her down again&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77184099?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77184099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77184099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77184099' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77181687</id><published>2002-05-31T09:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-31T09:54:17.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tired and very angry and betrayed. &lt;br /&gt;i want to meltdown. be in a quite place; be alone. and let everything out.&lt;br /&gt;my eyes burn from the salty tears i cried earlier this morning. they ache because i don't cry very much anymore, and definitley not like that. no loud, cheast heaving sobs. no curling up into a ball wishing everything away. no wanting to slice my arms up just for the satisfaction of the pain and blood. show him how this small and childish choice he made has affected me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to destroy his playstation; rip up all of his books, delete all of his songs and art off of the computer. &lt;br /&gt;this morning has been the last proverbial straw, i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at least i don't try to fool myself anymore. &lt;br /&gt;i have to make things happen. i have to. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77181687?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77181687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77181687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77181687' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77170437</id><published>2002-05-31T00:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-31T00:21:51.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so my [seperate] &lt;a href="http://jennyxxxx.diaryland.com"&gt;500-words project&lt;/a&gt; is done, for now. &lt;br /&gt;[pssst. if you don't want to read 30-or-so entries you could alway check out my &lt;a href="http://user.netomia.com/sugarcoma/500-words.html"&gt;favorites-aka-the best ones&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;i'll still be doing the 500-words-thing, only it will be @ my &lt;a href="http://moon-ridden.diaryland.com"&gt;regular journal&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my hiatus wasn't a hiatus after all! ha! i'm so weird! [and tired...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh tori, you always know just what to say to make me think/want to cry/feel better. &lt;br /&gt;i -heart- you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77170437?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77170437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77170437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77170437' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77141526</id><published>2002-05-30T10:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-30T10:42:44.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ohhh! two quizzes and a playlist to boot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aha -take on me&lt;br /&gt;bjork -violently happy&lt;br /&gt;depeche mode -enjoy the silence&lt;br /&gt;garbage -#1 crush&lt;br /&gt;goldfinger -99 red ballons&lt;br /&gt;goo goo dolls - i don't want to know&lt;br /&gt;lennon murphy -brake of your car&lt;br /&gt;hole -violet&lt;br /&gt;marilyn manson -tainted love&lt;br /&gt;moist -alive&lt;br /&gt;kmfdm -dogma&lt;br /&gt;trent reznor &amp; david bowie -i'm afraid of americans&lt;br /&gt;depeche mode -i feel you&lt;br /&gt;prodigy -smack my bitch up&lt;br /&gt;bjork -bachelorette&lt;br /&gt;radiohead -paranoid android&lt;br /&gt;radiohead -creep&lt;br /&gt;radiohead -pyramaid song&lt;br /&gt;the cure -burn&lt;br /&gt;einstuerzende neubauten -sonnenbarke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm quite pleased with this list. it will definitley be burned. unfortunatley i don't know of anyone (besides case and anna) who would like this mix. (and anna had heard all of these songs, i'm sure). &lt;br /&gt;all the same, i firmly believe that there are certain songs that certain people should HAVE TO listen to. &lt;br /&gt;it would do them a fuckload of good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps- i wish i could speak german.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"lets stop saying&lt;br /&gt;'don't quote me' because&lt;br /&gt;if no one quotes you,&lt;br /&gt;you probably haven't said a thing worth saying"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77141526?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77141526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77141526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77141526' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77141121</id><published>2002-05-30T10:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-30T10:14:46.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/pants_pants_revolution/" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://bretzlies.com/jean/highart.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're high art. you're about lesbians and heroin and take place in new york. how trendy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size=1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take the &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/pants_pants_revolution/" target="new"&gt;which prettie movie are you?&lt;/a&gt; quiz, a product of the &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=slinkstercool"&gt;&lt;img height="17" border="0" src="http://img.livejournal.com/community.gif" align="absmiddle" width="17"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/slinkstercool/"&gt;slinkstercool&lt;/a&gt; community.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77141121?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77141121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77141121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77141121' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77139587</id><published>2002-05-30T09:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-30T09:23:48.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/rebellion/sidneycore/cosmicquiz.html" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://glockenpop.homestead.com/files/emily.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size=1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/rebellion/sidneycore/cosmicquiz.html" target="new"&gt;Which Cosmic Debris Girl Are You?&lt;/a&gt; By &lt;a href="http://kidvermin.livejournal.com"&gt;kidvermin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77139587?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77139587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77139587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77139587' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-77031595</id><published>2002-05-27T14:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-27T14:44:21.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>awwww someone has a crush on me. how cute :)&lt;br /&gt;unfortunatley, i have no idea whom..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-77031595?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77031595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/77031595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#77031595' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76989447</id><published>2002-05-26T10:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-26T10:53:00.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok, so i've been up for almost two hours and i'm going on 3.5 hours worth of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;and case is blissfully asleep because i -stupidly- offered to get up with Cole in the morning because i was feeling guilty about breaking our a-couple-weeks-without-fighting-or-having-any-real-ill-feelings-towards-eachother streak. &lt;br /&gt;so i'm awake now, eating butter toast and drinking coffee- which is both disgusting, and having no effect on my sleepyhead state. &lt;br /&gt;i am *so* jealous of Case right now. but i get a nap later!&lt;br /&gt;so i will sit here alternatley holding Cole and chasing him around the living room. and when i hold him i will continue to remove his death grip on my glasses and his mouth and teeth from my nose and hair. and when he's rediscovering all of his toys for the hundredth time, i will continue to hide my orange hologram coffee cup and copy of A Handmaids Tale. &lt;br /&gt;knowing that in a few hours i will be able to take a nap and be uninterrupted and blissfully asleep. &lt;br /&gt;sleeeeeeeeeeeep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76989447?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76989447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76989447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_26_archive.html#76989447' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76952919</id><published>2002-05-25T02:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-25T02:45:42.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just got back from Star Wars.&lt;br /&gt;it was relativley disapointing: too mushy.&lt;br /&gt;i have a crush on whomever played Anikin Skywalker. &lt;br /&gt;also YODA ROCKS!!! he may look all old and crippled but that little green man can fucking move!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i'm off to shower, "pay up" over a bet i lost, and sleep. &lt;br /&gt;so very tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76952919?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76952919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76952919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76952919' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76933659</id><published>2002-05-24T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-24T15:03:36.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Name an album that changed your life for any reason:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;goodness. either Little Earthquakes [empathy] or The Fragile [apathy/angst]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CD you listen to the most: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mostly listen too MP3's, but cd-wise probably And All That Could Have Been- NIN or Concent to Treatment- Blue October&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite makeout song:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elevation -U2 ;  Life Like in the Movies -Stephen Broadsky ; Your Body is a Wonderland -John Mayer ; Slow Like Honey -Fiona Apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your favourite CD from your parents' collection: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fleetwood Mac - The Dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song you always sing in the shower:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i'm happy i sing Take On Me -A HA ; when i'm sad i sing Gasoline -Moist ; when i'm neautral i sing Concertina -Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song or album you would want played at your funeral:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea...maybe Silence- Delerium feat. Sarah McLachlan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite album when you're depressed:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was really down recently and was listening to From the Choirgirl Hotel -Tori Amos all day every day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite album when you're mad at the world:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a mix that &lt;a href="http://www.basketofcliche.org/~anna"&gt;anna&lt;/a&gt; made me. there's a song on it: Dogma -KMFDM. that song sums it up really fucking well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite album to listen to on a sunny day:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Righteous Love -Joan Osborne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite soundtrack: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crow; Stigmata; Empire Records&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76933659?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76933659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76933659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76933659' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76927973</id><published>2002-05-24T12:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-24T12:16:20.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cha cha cha it's FRIDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;whee!&lt;br /&gt;and with said friday, there is the very good possibility that a good and trusted friend will watch cole overnight. which is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;i love cole- very much. i would (will. do) miss him a lot when i'm away from him, but god do i need a little break. i know case feels the same. we don't do this very often- in fact the last time we did it was a couple months ago, i think. &lt;br /&gt;i need uninterrupted sleep, conversation and sex. &lt;br /&gt;when you have a 10 month old very curious and crawling little boy, you get very mentally exausted *every day*.&lt;br /&gt;goodness, the idea of a night free of fussiness and getting into things he shouldn't be and pulling hard on my hair and almost breaking my glasses at least 5 times has me giddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need coffee. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76927973?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76927973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76927973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76927973' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76913575</id><published>2002-05-24T01:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-24T01:43:43.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok, so i love pink sometimes, and i love Hello Kitty all the time. &lt;br /&gt;so &lt;a href="http://www.exonome.com/fj/phkl/"&gt;this is absolutley awesome!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahh! i want it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ps- case strongly opposes the idea of turning our computer into a purple and black leopard print/hello kitty machine)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76913575?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76913575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76913575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76913575' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76887343</id><published>2002-05-23T12:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-23T12:34:13.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am totally unsatisfied with my blog design. &lt;br /&gt;grr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76887343?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76887343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76887343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76887343' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76885855</id><published>2002-05-23T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-23T11:56:40.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;physical appearance: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. what do you most like about your body? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's piercings. sometimes my eyes, lips, and smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. and least? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how easily it scars, it's size&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. how many fillings do you have? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. do you think you're good looking? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, but other people do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. do other people often tell you that you're good-looking? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. do you look like any celebrities? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;fashion: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. do you wear a watch? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. how many coats and jackets do you own? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;four, i think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. favorite pants/skirt color? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. most expensive item of clothing? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um. a $70-something pair of jeans, i think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. what kind of shoes do you wear? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;platforms, high heel boots, flip-flops, birkenstock sandals, sneakers, mary janes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;your friends: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. do your friends 'know' you? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a couple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. what do they tend to be like? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they tend to be like...themselves. only sometime not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. are there traits in you that are universally liked? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can be witty. i'm intellegent. i smile [relativley] easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. how many people do you tell everything to? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. how many people tell you everything? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to say one, but sometimes i feels like strangers or defunct friendships want to tell me their life story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;love: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. have you ever loved a person so much that it hurt? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;romantically? once, but i figured out it wasn't love that i was feeling. and again. now. sometimes when everything is a mess and we're a mess and we're about to give up, it hurts to think of being without him. besides that yes. one little person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. how many people do you say 'i love you' to on a daily basis? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i say it passivley in response to my mother. i tell cole many times a day. sometimes i falter and forget to tell case until he says it first. i need to work on that, because i do. more then i let on; more then he knows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. have you ever cheated on your significant other? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. if not, would you ever if given the chance with the guy/girl of your dreams? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have. but not with any dream boy. it was a blind ambition. or my stupidity. i've learned my lesson, 10-fold... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;music/tv/film/books: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. favorite artist/band ever? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tori isn't always my favourite, but she's been the only constant music, so. Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. most listened to artist/bands: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue October, Moist, NIN, The Wallflowers, Ani Difranco, Bright Eyes, Goo Goo Dolls, The Posies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. do you find any musicians good-looking? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh lordy...ROCKSTARS! SEXY ROCKSTARS! I LOVE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. can you play an instrument? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some piano..i really wanna learn the acoustic guitar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. types of music most listened to? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;indy, emo, rock, 80's pop, pop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. types never listened to? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;country- i don't give a GODDAMN how "moving" the song is i *still* hate "Don't Take the Girl". also, almost everyting played on MTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. favorite book? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;changes all the time. currently an old fave The Handmaids Tale- Margaret Atwood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;underwear: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. ladies, do you like to wear thongs? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no. well, sometimes. but never out- only if we're about ti get it on. i ususally don't wear underwear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. guys, boxers or briefs? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like boxers on guys. my last serious (HA!) bf wore tightie whities and, just...ugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. what is the nicest color for underwear? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;black, purple, or leopard print (oh, what joy if i could find some purple/black leopard print panties...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. do you find it uncomfortable without a bra? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, very. i have big boobies. the only reason i wish them smaller is so i could go [comfortably] braless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. do you make it a habit of showing people your underwear? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not usually, but exceptions have been made...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;religion: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. do you detest religion? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;destest? no. dislike? yeah, for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. how do you think this universe was formed (explain in detail)? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know. but do i think this benevolent superior being-force just made it so one day?  defintley not. it's a nice story, but that's about all it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. if you currently follow a religion, do you think people who belong to another religion are ignorant? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't follow any religion. also, i don't think those who do follow religion are ignorant. beliefs are very personal and sesitive subjects. life is difficult and a lot of things make no sense, so if they've found a way to make their stay on earth easier- then more power to them. what is ignorant, but moreso ANNOYING is when people shove their beliefs and convictions down my throat. then it's time to rumble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. if you were in a hostage situation, and you were given a choice to either praise the demon they follow or die would you? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so if i praise the almightly daemon, i get to live? well, that's a no brainer. and really, a silly scenario. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;homosexuality: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. what is the first thing you think when you see two gay/lesbian people holding hands? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i want a girl...*pout* "  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. do you detest homosexuality? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not in the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. do you agree or disagree with gay or lesbian couples bringing up children? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;again, not in the least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;general questions: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. who do you believe is the smartest man alive at the moment? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i...don't...know...Case! Case is the smartest man alive! or my father- minus his conservative nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. what do you prefer, a sunny or rainy day? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i -heart- rainy days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. do you consider yourself lucky? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. do you feel pity for people who commit suicide? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes..on a case by case basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. choose one word to describe how you feel most often: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;indecisive.  or bitchy. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76885855?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76885855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76885855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76885855' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76865323</id><published>2002-05-22T22:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-22T22:15:02.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.venomed.net/beatnik.jpg"&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size="1"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.venomed.net/test2.html"&gt;Which 50's teen are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://angelfire.com/goth/vanisher/turbulencequiz.html" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://fff.fathom.org/pages/dionae/3rddegree.bmp" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are misunderstood.  People never see the real you, only the outer persona which is often very different from your true self.  You have problems with hostility, and have difficulty understanding yourself.  You vent outward, because you fear looking inside yourself for the true root of the problem.  You need to understand yourself in order to be understood by others.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your song is: The Test that Stumped Them All&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://angelfire.com/goth/vanisher/turbulencequiz.html" target="new"&gt;Which degree of inner turbulence are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;This quiz was made by &lt;a href="http://livejournal.com/users/resplendentposy"&gt;Dionae&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;table width="404" border="0" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a title="What am I?" href="http://www.surveyjunkie.com/quizzes/MSS/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.surveyjunkie.com/quizzes/MSS/seqbi.gif" alt="You are bisexual." width="400" height="150" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular"&gt;&lt;a title="What am I?" href="http://www.surveyjunkie.com/quizzes/MSS/" target="_blank"&gt;Take this quiz&lt;/a&gt; or visit &lt;a title="Visit survey.JUNKIE!" href="http://www.surveyjunkie.com/" target="_blank"&gt;survey.JUNKIE&lt;/a&gt; for more surveys!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;commentary&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- so not surprising.&lt;br /&gt;2- i think i'm missing something? who are these people? whatever.&lt;br /&gt;3- again. SO not surpising!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76865323?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76865323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76865323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76865323' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76860072</id><published>2002-05-22T19:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-22T19:35:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>some people are just so amazing it's heard to believe they're real. i read all these online journals and a lot of them i stick with because i empathize with them. i understand where they're coming from and want to be there for them, even in my own little impertinent way. &lt;br /&gt;then then there are these people who are so fucking amazing. tey make me want to write and paint and cry and laugh. they remind me that i am human, but wonderful in my own right. and i want to have coffee with them and be good friends with them. &lt;br /&gt;but they all live to far away. &lt;br /&gt;still, they have no idea what gifts they've given me. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76860072?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76860072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76860072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76860072' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76781424</id><published>2002-05-20T22:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-20T22:19:36.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;font face="arial"&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/radioheadchick/quizzes/tori.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/radioheadchick/quizzes/rockchick.htm"&gt;Which Rock Chick Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76781424?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76781424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76781424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76781424' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76759067</id><published>2002-05-20T11:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-20T11:22:03.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we have a program for cole on the computer. he can hit any key and a shape will pop up onto the screen, and a voice says the shapes name and the color the shape is. &lt;br /&gt;it's a bit over his head [there are orange octagons, red pentagons, etc], but he loves it. my only worry is that through all of his excited pounding and slapping, he'll break the keyboard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's a picture of him playing with it in the "image" section.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76759067?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76759067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76759067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76759067' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76755389</id><published>2002-05-20T09:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-20T09:10:53.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rebel-fairy.com/mirage/scream"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.rebel-fairy.com/mirage/scream/deftones.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Who's&lt;a href=http://www.rebel-fairy.com/mirage/scream&gt; SCREAM&lt;/a&gt; Do You Posess?&lt;br&gt;Quiz by &lt;a href="http://www.rebel-fairy.com/mirage"&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href=http://www.livejournal.com/users/fadingmirage&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unimpressive. although thay are the best of the [obvious] possible answers.&lt;br /&gt;i like "Change" and "My own summer" reminds me of, well, summer. and sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't do my 500 words yesterday. again. &lt;br /&gt;but i was sad and am sad so both days would have been annoying pretentious sad-angsty ramble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cole keeps lifting his left hand to eye level and screaming at it. heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76755389?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76755389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76755389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76755389' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76721147</id><published>2002-05-19T08:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-19T08:53:52.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>people are entitled to their own opinion of course, but &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/childfree/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; bothers me. a lot. it's not even that they choose not to have children. i could give a rip about that. it's the way they talk about children and families and mothers. &lt;br /&gt;whatever. assholes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76721147?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76721147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76721147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76721147' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76720974</id><published>2002-05-19T08:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-19T08:47:23.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>obviously, i have nothing important to add about my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;case is working. cole woke up at 7-frickin-AM, i want coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My top 5 favorite fiction books of all time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Handmaids Tale -Margaret Atwood&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriend In a Coma -Douglas Coupland&lt;br /&gt;Kushiel's Dart -Jacqueline Carey&lt;br /&gt;The Rapture of Canaan - Sheri Reynolds&lt;br /&gt;American Gods -Neil Gaiman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top 5 Non-Fiction Books&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breeder -Ariel Gore; Bee Lavender&lt;br /&gt;Gender Outlaw -Kate Bornstien&lt;br /&gt;The Woman with the Alabaster Jar -Margaret Starbird&lt;br /&gt;Bitch -Elizabeth Wurtzel&lt;br /&gt;When Rabbit Howls -Truddi Chase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top 10 Movies People Need To See Right Now &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ghostworld&lt;br /&gt;A Clockwork Orange&lt;br /&gt;The Velvet Goldmine&lt;br /&gt;Lolita&lt;br /&gt;Memento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[re-reading all my lists- i sound like such a wannabe. such a poser. please keep in mind how tired i am. my brain doesn't want to work right]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76720974?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76720974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76720974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76720974' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76720533</id><published>2002-05-19T08:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-19T08:19:05.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.snarkywench.com/"&gt;8 from the 80's&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1) Are you forever young? &lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;well, seeing as how i'm convicned that i'm 16-going-on-20 and will never reach the mental age above 16, yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2) Are you like a virgin? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, no i'm not. but sometimes i wish i was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3) Are you looking for a new love, baby? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not activley looking, no. very happy with case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4) Are you in control? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as much as i can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5) Have you ever been where the streets have no name? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not that i recall. if i was in a place like that i'd find it really creepy, i'm sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6) Do you have a touch of grey? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oddly enough, yes. i have have three grey hairs since i was about 12. i still only have 3, but still. odd, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7) When was the last time you celebrated good times? &lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;depends on what you mean celebrate. yesterday i celebrated with cole, his 10month birthday. mothers day was case and my anniversay so we went out to eat and did fun and kinky bedroom things. besides that it would have been february and case's birthday and going out too eat w/ freinds and getting drunk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;8) Are you wild an' willin' or is it just for show? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt; i used to be wild an willin, but now i can't even muster the energy to case enough to put on a show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76720533?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76720533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76720533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76720533' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76714108</id><published>2002-05-19T01:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-19T01:11:13.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i didn't do my 500 words today [yesterday. the 18th], therefore i suck. it wouldn't be a big deal except that this is the fourth day i missed this month. &lt;br /&gt;see? i suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also rather itchy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76714108?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76714108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76714108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_19_archive.html#76714108' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76684791</id><published>2002-05-18T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-18T00:44:08.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hi. &lt;br /&gt;um. where the fuck did the week go!?&lt;br /&gt;(some of my answers don't make sense, but are none the less true)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you of waking up in the morning:&lt;/b&gt; For the Movies -Buck Cherry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best to drive to:&lt;/b&gt; Fell in Love With a Girl -The White Stripes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best on Sunday afternoon:&lt;/b&gt; Breakfast After 10 -Blue October&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best to listen to at night driving: &lt;/b&gt; Porcelin -Moby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best to listen to at night at home: &lt;/b&gt; Bachelorette -Bjork&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you of your childhood: &lt;/b&gt;Vouge -Madonna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best for sex, or remind you of sex: &lt;/b&gt; Cruel -Tori Amos  -or-  Slow Like Honey- Fiona Apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that's best for when it is raining: &lt;/b&gt; Low Low Low -Moist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you that you're in love: &lt;/b&gt; Lovesong -The Cure  -or-  To Bring You My Love -Joan Osborne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you of your last relationship:&lt;/b&gt; Done Wrong -Ani Difranco  -or-  My Beautiful -Lennon Murphy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you of traveling: &lt;/b&gt; Memphis -Brownie Mary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that reminds you that everything is wonderful: &lt;/b&gt; Enjoy The Silence -Depche Mode  -or-  Mary- Sarah Mclachlan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Song that makes you cry: &lt;/b&gt; Understand -Tony Lucca  -or-  Playboy Mommy -Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favorite band: &lt;/b&gt; Blue October&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favorite band when you were 13: &lt;/b&gt; Bush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Band that you liked then but do not anymore: &lt;/b&gt; Creed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bands that you still like after years and years: &lt;/b&gt; Stone Temple Pilots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Band/musician that you are embarrassed that you like: &lt;/b&gt;not embaressed about any. but some might think it's off that i like Bette Midler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favorite male voice: &lt;/b&gt; too fucking many! currently i can't get enough of David Gahan [Depeche Mode]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favorite female voice: &lt;/b&gt; Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Most annoying female voice: &lt;/b&gt; Christina Aguilera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Most annoying male voice: &lt;/b&gt; Ozzy Osborne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Male singer's voice that makes you cry: &lt;/b&gt; it varies according to my mood, but most often it's Justin Fursteneld [Blue October]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Female singer's voice that makes you cry: &lt;/b&gt;Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Band that describes your life: &lt;/b&gt; Goo Goo Dolls, NIN, or Blue October. Or Moist...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Theme song: &lt;/b&gt; Where Is Everybody? -NIN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76684791?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76684791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76684791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76684791' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76658659</id><published>2002-05-17T10:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-17T10:22:51.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm not one to back down from a religion debate, but i only do that with other people i know. people who question as much as i do, etc. i make it a point to not attack people's religious beliefs. it's stupid and wrong. if someone has found something that makes them happy then leave them the fuck alone! even if you disagree! it is NOT your place to 'enlighten' then about how wrong thier religion is and it is certainly not your place to bash them because they've chosen a religious path that you don't agree with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the very least be mature about it. if you have questions then ask them politley. if you disagree then ignore it- close the fucking browser window and bitch to somebody who won't be offended. gah! people are so stupid/heartless/cruel sometimes! if you're going to discuss/bitch about/whatever religion, then at least do it intellegently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thatbkcgirl.diaryland.com/"&gt;she&lt;/a&gt; gets far too much static. i don't agree with her beliefs, but that doesn't mean i'm going to send her mean mail and post mean guestbook entries. if i don't like what she's saying, then i skim over it. if it pisses me off too much, i close the window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fucking hell, people. grow the fuck up. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76658659?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76658659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76658659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76658659' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76646776</id><published>2002-05-17T00:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-17T00:58:42.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fridayfive.org"&gt;friday five [!!!!]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. What shampoo do you use?&lt;/b&gt; V05 Kiwi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Do you use conditioner? What kind?&lt;/b&gt; yes, the same kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. When was the last time you got your hair cut?&lt;/b&gt; i had it trimmed about a month ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. What styling products do you use?&lt;/b&gt; this hair jam/balm stuff to make it behave, ocassional mouse or hairspray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. What's your worst hair-related experience?&lt;/b&gt; omg, one time i had mny hair relaxed and styled and my beautician was sick so it was a different lady and the style she gave me is called "Pools". my hair was down and shiney and i had little sections of hair lifted so it looked like a hair fountain. i went home and brushed it all down. god awful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have a good weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76646776?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76646776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76646776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76646776' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76645893</id><published>2002-05-17T00:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-17T00:32:45.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well, i've got &lt;a href="http://chaos007.diaryland.com"&gt;joon's&lt;/a&gt; list for her mix cd done. now it's just a matter of burning it, making the cover art, emailing her with a few questions and getting it sent off.&lt;br /&gt;anyway one of 3 are done. and that feels nice. the other two are going to be a bit more difficult. only because i've known, for the most part, which songs i've wanted her to hear for a while now. One of the other two people doesn't even know their getting a mix yet. And the third is anna. and anna has heard *everything*! most of the music i listen to i've gotten from her in one way or another and i'd like to send her something she hasn't heard yet. &lt;br /&gt;so, my work is cut out for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i'm plucking my eyebrows and it hurts. a lot. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76645893?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76645893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76645893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76645893' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76628715</id><published>2002-05-16T14:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-16T14:52:13.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i woke up today [from a very strange and unsettling dream, although that's irrelevant] believe that it was monday. i convinced myself that it was tuesday about an hour ago. now, after surfing several livejournals, i found out that it's thursday. it made me want to cry! where does the week go?? and why can't i kep up!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;With your feet in the air and your head on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Try this trick and spin it, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Your head will collapse&lt;br /&gt;But there's nothing in it&lt;br /&gt;And you'll ask yourself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is my mind?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76628715?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76628715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76628715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76628715' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76603257</id><published>2002-05-15T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T23:02:21.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hi. its fun quiz time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.glamorize.net/yourockmahsocks/osbournequiz.html" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.glamorize.net/yourockmahsocks/kelly.JPG" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://fallingashes.net/lara.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fallingashes.net/quiz_3.html"&gt;Which movie heroine are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/ihateyou/overdose.gif"&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.boomspeed.com/ihateyou/index.html" target="quiz"&gt;Test, test?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trinitykiss.com/time"&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/trinitykiss/images/t90s.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trinitykiss.com/time"&gt;Which era in time are you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all, i think they are pretty accurate. i am rather annoyed my Kelly O, but the description fits [substitute 'brother' for 'boyfriend']. and i was a pill popper. i wonder about the 90's, though. I know i'm either 80's or 90's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76603257?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76603257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76603257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76603257' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76597255</id><published>2002-05-15T20:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T20:33:22.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>*this answer is right some of the time. i'm really fickle about sex. sometimes it has to be rough, sometimes i have to be bound, and sometimes i do just want softness and atmosphere. it changes almost daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://shescrafty.bitchy.nu/quizzes/quizzes.html"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shescrafty.bitchy.nu/images/sensual.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;You're a sensualist, stimulated when all your senses are tingling. A soft stroke or a certain scent might be all you need to get geared up. You're artistic, impulsive and fun-loving, and require that same kind of play and spontaneity in your sex-life. You don't embark on any sexual escapades just to be able to say you did it. It needs to feel right to you for you to truely enjoy it. Your partners tend to be generous and sensitive in the sack. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://shescrafty.bitchy.nu/quizzes/quizzes.html"&gt;What's Your Sexual MO?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Find out @ &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://shescrafty.bitchy.nu"&gt;She's Crafty&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76597255?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76597255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76597255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76597255' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76582036</id><published>2002-05-15T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T13:22:23.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it annoys me so much to see young girls call themselves Lolita. hi- just because you read the book or saw the movie and thought it was 'super cool that the girl was young and sexy and bad' does not make you a Lolita. you would like to believe that you're like her but you're not. grow the fuck up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(see? i'm a bad and mean person)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76582036?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76582036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76582036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76582036' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76581009</id><published>2002-05-15T12:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T13:05:03.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;WHAT TIME OF DAY DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?&lt;/b&gt; 8-9am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;IF YOU COULD EAT LUNCH WITH A FAMOUS PERSON WHO WOULD &lt;br /&gt;IT BE?&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Tori Amos [that answer is subject to change almost daily]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;GOLD OR SILVER? &lt;/b&gt; Silver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT IS THE LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN THE THEATRE?&lt;/b&gt; Lord of the Rings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT DO YOU USUALLY HAVE FOR BREAKFAST? &lt;/b&gt;butter toast or onion bagel/cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHO WOULD YOU HATE TO BE LEFT IN A ROOM WITH? &lt;/b&gt;this ex-ffriend of mine. she was a biznachio. her name's janaira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CAN YOU TOUCH YOUR NOSE WITH YOUR TOUNGE? &lt;/b&gt;i have a long tounge, but it only goes down [oh, that sounds..different]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHO INSPIRES YOU?  &lt;/b&gt;alli, ani, anna, authors of my favourite books, musicians that write/play my fave songs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT'S YOUR MIDDLE NAME?  &lt;/b&gt;Nicole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEACH OR CITY OR MOUNTAINS?  &lt;/b&gt;city&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;SUMMER, WINTER or FALL?   &lt;/b&gt;summer or early fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE ICE CREAM?  &lt;/b&gt;ben and jerrys "jerry jubilee"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BUTTERED, PLAIN OR SALTED? &lt;/b&gt;light butter and salt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE COLOR?  &lt;/b&gt;black, red, purple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE CAR?  &lt;/b&gt;69 Nova. black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE SANDWICH FILLING?  &lt;/b&gt;tuna/maricle whip/american cheese/tomato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;EVER BEEN IN LOVE?  &lt;/b&gt;yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT CHARACTERISTICS DO YOU DESPISE?  &lt;/b&gt;ignorance, reduncancy, bad breath, uncomfortable silence, self righteousness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE FLOWERS?&lt;/b&gt; orchids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;IF YOU HAD A BIG WIN ON THE LOTTERY? &lt;/b&gt; pay of debts, buy a wonderful house on upper west coast, put case and i through college, start trust fund for cole and go shopping for the three of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FIZZY OR STILL WATER AS A DRINK?&lt;/b&gt;  usually 'still'. although i do like strawberry sparkling water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHROOM?&lt;/b&gt;  yellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHERE WOULD YOU RETIRE TO? &lt;/b&gt; lower west coast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK?&lt;/b&gt;  friday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY?&lt;/b&gt;  went swimming, ate cake, had sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76581009?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76581009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76581009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76581009' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76580276</id><published>2002-05-15T12:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T12:30:39.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>woo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" border="0" bgcolor="#996433"&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#F0A268"&gt;&lt;td width="125" bgcolor="#FFCCFF"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.geraldfield.com/nadinesplace/muppetquiz/fozzie.jpg" width="125" height="108"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="177" bgcolor="#FFCCFF"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="3" color="#612203"&gt;You are Fozzie!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;font color="#612203"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Wokka Wokka! You love to make lame jokes. Your sense of humor might be a bit off, but you're a great friend and can always be counted on.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font color="#950000"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#996433"&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geraldfield.com/cgi-bin/unofficial/quizzes/sfesurvey.cgi?whatmuppetareyou" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;font color="#FF99FF"&gt;Take the &lt;i&gt;What Muppet Are You?&lt;/i&gt; Quiz!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76580276?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76580276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76580276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76580276' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76567167</id><published>2002-05-15T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-15T01:41:17.893-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm so frusterated right now. and so tired.&lt;br /&gt;i want to write about it, but there's too much all coming at once and i don't know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm a bad person, my mother and father are stupid and stubborn, and my sister is fucking up her life. &lt;br /&gt;[IF YOU WANT A FUCKING THERAPIST THEN GO SEE A FUCKING THERAPIST! I AM *NOT* YOUR FUCKING THERAPIST!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm just going to go to sleep. sleep always makes me feel a little better. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76567167?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76567167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76567167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76567167' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76501189</id><published>2002-05-13T13:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-13T13:19:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i know i've bitched about this before, but god dammit!&lt;br /&gt;i HATE it when i d/l a song and it's the live version.&lt;br /&gt;(i know i know. i should be damn grateful i have the ability to d/l music. blah blah blah! shut up!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i &lt;b&gt;wanted&lt;/b&gt; the live version of Paranoid Android, i would have specified as much!&lt;br /&gt;fuck fuck fuck!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76501189?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76501189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76501189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76501189' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3404363.post-76499780</id><published>2002-05-13T12:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-13T12:24:33.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;no one ever said a word &lt;br /&gt;they did not want to tell you&lt;br /&gt;as if they didn't know you&lt;br /&gt;burn and shine&lt;br /&gt;you burn and shine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3404363-76499780?l=comealive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76499780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3404363/posts/default/76499780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comealive.blogspot.com/2002_05_12_archive.html#76499780' title=''/><author><name>jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16708003005332552129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
