<?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-28575490</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:57:24.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The finest things in life ...</title><subtitle type='html'>A journey through</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-1230953132140843614</id><published>2008-10-03T22:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T22:54:33.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Late nights and weary minds</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well now, it has been quite a long time since I've written.  I cannot honestly say that many things have changed, except for the fact that my summer job is finally over.  Now I can fully concentrate on classes and raising my son.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes are going alright - only one of them is a communication class toward my major, so thats kind of a bummer.  I am in a business statistcs class where all the examples are from the financial sector (gag me!) and an organizational behavior class that is quite interesting.  As well I am taking introduciton to theatre, a class that is entertaining but quite time consuming.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited a few weeks ago - I am in a community production of the Sound of Music.  I actually have  a part!  I am Sister Margaretta, and it is so much fun.  I was involved in musicals in high school, and I have been acting for as long as I can remember.  It is really exciting to have my first real part with people whom I adore so much involved as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other big project I have going on is crocheting.  Haha that makes me sound like a little old lady.  I am making a blanket for my son.  He is going to grow out of his toddler bed soemday and I am making a blanket to fit the next bed.  I started an afghan in 2005 and it was really pretty pastel colors.   It never failed though, every time I worked on it I got a massive headache and was unable to work.  So I decided to rip the thing out and create a whole new creation.  The only downside is that i have to crochet 1800 or more hexagons and then sew them all together.  But I guess that will give me soemthing to do when the weather gets cold =) .  I'm about a third of the way through making the hexagons and now I've finally started sewing it together.  And boy does it look nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;It is not exceedingly late, but I am at my wits end.  Down time is something I lack greatly, and enough sleep is hard to come by.  My son is asleep, I have a weekend in which to do my homework, and I am going to see my brother tomorrow.  I am headed to bed to dream sweet dreams about the man of my dreams.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But will he ever realize I'm dreaming of him???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-1230953132140843614?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/1230953132140843614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=1230953132140843614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/1230953132140843614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/1230953132140843614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/10/late-nights-and-weary-minds.html' title='Late nights and weary minds'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-5519021339054669559</id><published>2008-09-09T00:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T00:30:44.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The beginning of another year</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;School started two weeks ago.  I cannot believe I have finally made it to my senior year!  This semester seems as though it is going to be on the easy side ... as long as I keep up with my work and read what I need to.  I don't think I'll have an issue with it, however one never knows what will transpire in the next few months.  I talked to my advisor on Friday and I think I have an internship set up for next semester!  Woo hoo!  That means that I will have some practical experience to go into the workforce with.  This won't be the average internship, but I might keep a running log of the fun things I get to do on here.  We shall see how my time progresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I read a great book series recently.  It was "The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever," and "The Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever."  As I'm sure you can figure out, they are somewhat related.  I have to admit though, the first book in the first chronicles took a lot of time to get through.  I had to slog through a lot of background information to get to the action.  But once I got there, the books were great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also recently decided that I am going to take a trip to Lake Forest, Illinois sometime.  Jim Lovell (Apollo 13 commander and man with the most hours in space aside from those who have stayed on the international space station) has a restaurant up there.  He is one of the men I look up to most.  I have read his book, &lt;em&gt;Lost Moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;, and the things he dealt with to get into the space program amaze me.  As well his life story is one of interest.  It could be that I am just interested because someday I'm going to go into space.  That was always my goal as a little girl, but somehow that fell to the wayside.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the little guy is asleep and it is time for me to retire for the night as well.  I have most of my homework done for the week so I should rest up now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all of you who read this, whether it is purely by accident or on purpose, God Bless you.  I hope you have a wonderful day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-5519021339054669559?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/5519021339054669559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=5519021339054669559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/5519021339054669559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/5519021339054669559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/09/beginning-of-another-year.html' title='The beginning of another year'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-247401509014732665</id><published>2008-07-30T01:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T01:36:10.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just one of those moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So it's way too late for me to be up tonight, but I still am awake.  I'm watching Apollo 13.  It is one of my all time favorite movies ... actually, one of my all time favorite historical moments ever.  The story of the crew and the struggles they went through, and all of the people who came together to get them back home is a tribute to the human race and the way we feel for those who are in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just finished the movie, and I feel pathetic.  Every time I watch the movie I cry at the end.  I cry when everyone is waiting for the shuttle to reply to the calls from mission control.  I cry when they finally arrive safely in the water.  I cry when I listen to Tom Hanks give his speech at the end. &lt;br /&gt; I've read the book, I've seen the movie, and the story still amazes me.  I can't seem to get over all of the struggles those men faced, and the ways that they overcame those struggles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just one of those feel good moments when I think that maybe the human race isn't as hopeless as it seems some days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-247401509014732665?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/247401509014732665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=247401509014732665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/247401509014732665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/247401509014732665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-just-one-of-those-moments.html' title='It&apos;s just one of those moments'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-8525076833342299924</id><published>2008-07-24T16:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:30:49.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainstorms</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So for anyone living in the area surrounding me, we got hit was a massive rainstorm at about 4:00 today.  My brother has a paper route and I was delivering them for him, and I was in the rain.  &lt;br /&gt;I have to say, it was completely exhalirating to be in the rain while it was storming, getting soaking wet, singing at the top of my lungs.  I had my MP3 player in and I was jamming to the soundtrack from &lt;em&gt;Wicked&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.  Specifically the song &lt;em&gt;Defying Gravity&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.  I think it struck me as very ironic because I'm finally starting to learn to just take life as it comes and that I CAN fly, in whatever I do, no matter what others think of me.  So I want to end with part of they lyrics that hit home today ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you care to find me&lt;br /&gt;look to the Western Sky&lt;br /&gt;As someone told me lately&lt;br /&gt;Everyone deserves a chance to fly&lt;br /&gt;and if I'm flying solo&lt;br /&gt;at least I'm flying free&lt;br /&gt;to those who'd ground me&lt;br /&gt; take a message back from me &lt;br /&gt;tell them how I'm defying gravity&lt;br /&gt;kiss me goodbye&lt;br /&gt;I'm defying gravity&lt;br /&gt;and you can't pull me down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-8525076833342299924?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/8525076833342299924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=8525076833342299924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/8525076833342299924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/8525076833342299924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/rainstorms.html' title='Rainstorms'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-7412840783235252787</id><published>2008-07-22T22:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:56:45.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what makes a man?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had this question posed to me the other day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What do you think makes a man?&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe it's a physical change?&lt;br /&gt;A spiritual enlightening?&lt;br /&gt;An emotional maturity?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought about it long and hard and I came up with an answer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I believe that becoming a man takes all of those things combined.  Without the physical change the boy will not have the strength to become the man who takes care of things around the house or around the workplace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It takes a spiritual enlightening for the boy to realize that he is not he creator, nor does he have the ability to make things happen any other way than they are supposed to.  The spiritual enlightening brings a boy to the stage where he can ask for help from someone else and he is not afraid to show his emotions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As well it takes an emotional maturity coupled with the other two.  The maturity only come when the boy realized that just because he shows emotions he is no less of a man.  There is no harm in a man crying at a happy occasion, when he is sad, or with someone when he cannont change something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So in closing, I believe it takes all three of those things to truly become a man.  Now, with that being said, there are those who just dont' have the physical capabilities because of disease or birth defect, or something .. however htey too grow physically, just not to the extent of other men.   That doesn't make them any less of a man.  Just different.  And it takes all kinds of men to make the world work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-7412840783235252787?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/7412840783235252787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=7412840783235252787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7412840783235252787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7412840783235252787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-makes-man.html' title='what makes a man?'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-2729261256453856871</id><published>2008-07-20T23:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T23:26:23.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I knew you</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I've  heard it said&lt;br /&gt;That people come into our lives&lt;br /&gt;for a reason&lt;br /&gt;bringing something we must learn&lt;br /&gt;and we are led&lt;br /&gt;to those who help us most to grow&lt;br /&gt;if we let them&lt;br /&gt;and we help them in return&lt;br /&gt;well I dont know if I believe thats true&lt;br /&gt;but I know I'm who I am today&lt;br /&gt;because I knew you .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I am only 22 and yet I feel like my life has already been lived.  I feel like I'm never going to get out of the rut that I'm in.  I want to find someone to love, someone ot be with.  I want to know that someday I'm going to wake up and see the love of my life beside me, smiling back at me, or holding me close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Okay, so I started this post yesterday when I was in a really dark place.  Today I feel better.  I feel as though I am punishing myself for something that I can't go back and change.  I've taken responsibility for my actions and I have repented from them and faced the consequences.  Now why can't I forgive myself?  And the other thing that bothers me - why can't I totally forgive the other party?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Forgiving doesn't mean forgetting, because in forgetting you are giving the other party the opportunity to hurt you again.  But forgiving is so much healthier.  Forgiving means that you have totally taken the right of the other person to make you feel bad and crushed it against a stone or something.  Forgiveness means that the person who hurt you no longer has control over your emotions because you don't let them.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I have a long way to go to make myself a new whole woman again, but I think this is the start of an interesting journey.  Hopefully I will come out in the end as a stronger, more caring woman.  I hope these changes will help me to grow in ways I've only dreamed of growing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-2729261256453856871?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/2729261256453856871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=2729261256453856871' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/2729261256453856871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/2729261256453856871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/because-i-knew-you.html' title='Because I knew you'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-7454911422657546039</id><published>2008-07-17T18:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T18:54:41.441-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Irritations</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are so many things that irritiate me lately.  My best friend tries to be helpful, but instead says the wrong thing and irritates me.  And when I try to politely tell him to buzz off he gets irritated with me and then he won't talk to me again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm irritated that I still have a year of school left.  I want so badly to be done so that I can go out and start my life.  I have heard it said that there is a point in schooling when someone says "it is time to be done!"  and I am at that point.  I didn't feel that way after high school - I was excited to get into the thick of college and get on with my life.  Well, that didn't happen exactly as I had planned.  I turned into a single mother still going to school and still living with my parents.  Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I don't know how I could do this without them, but at the same time I am so tired of depending on them for what feels like everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have spent weeks this summer digging up the return lines for our pool and we FINALLY have it fixed.  After 2nd degree burns on my back, countless hours wallowing in mud and clay, massive amounts of dirt and yuck, and it is finally done.  And now I can't swim.  It is 90 degreees outside and I can't get into my pool because there are other people using it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't feel like i have accomplished anything this summer.  I have a job, I have a child, I live with my folks and I don't feel like I've done anything.  Dad asked me to help him with a website and I haven't had the resources to do it ... and I just looked at it and he tried to do it and it's just not quite up to the standards it needs to be.  I love my father but he has no idea how to make things readable and the pictures are too big.  So that is yet another thing that I haven't accomplished in my short summer vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I feel like a failure at everything I do.  It would be nice if for once I could feel like I do something well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-7454911422657546039?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/7454911422657546039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=7454911422657546039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7454911422657546039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7454911422657546039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/irritations.html' title='Irritations'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-6014391691450883471</id><published>2008-07-09T21:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T21:29:47.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wow ... so it's been an extremely long time since I've posted anything on here.  I dont' exactly know what I'm doing on here ... but I felt this sudden urge to actually write something.  It has been so long ... I am supposed to be a grown up but right now I feel like an adolescent girl writing in a diary.  I can't believe it.  Hey, soon I'm going to be done with school, and then I'll actually be able to go out into the real world and make a name for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've been trying to write, but lately I've had a hard time getting motivated.  I dont' know whats up with me .. but I seem to have no energy at all.  I get dizzy when I lean over and I have a headache most of the time when I'm awake.  Thats weird, because I had those same symptoms when I was pregnanat.  And let me tell you ... there is absolutely NO way I can be pregnant right now.  It's just not physically possible.  So I'm not sure whats going on but I'm kind of worried.  Maybe I should suck it up and go to the doctor and get myself checked out.  If it is a brain tumor or something its' best that it's caught early ... right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm browsing facebook bumper stickers and they make me laugh a lot.  I love facebook .. it makes me feel connected to those whom I never see anymore.  The internet is amazing.  I can't imagine not having it ... but I remember a time when I didn't have the internet and I didn't have a cell phone, and all I had to do to keep myself busy was read or play cards or do something with the family.  Sometimes I miss those times.  It was nice to have time to myself when I didn't ahve to worry about being in contact with everyone in my life every minute of every day.  But I would miss not being able to talk to my best friend late at night without talking so as not to wake my small child.  I would miss looking at her facebook and posting dumb bumper stickers that make no sense to anyone but us ... especially ones that deal with cats or sausage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay, that is enough rambling for tonight.  Maybe next tiem I get on here I will have something of worth to say.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-6014391691450883471?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/6014391691450883471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=6014391691450883471' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/6014391691450883471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/6014391691450883471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2008/07/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-7211554946141793371</id><published>2007-04-30T17:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T10:04:40.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>avril</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; I'm tuggin' at my hair&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm pullin' at my clothes&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm tryin' to keep my cool&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I know it shows&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm staring at my feet&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My cheeks are turning red&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm searching for the words inside my head&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm feeling nervous                          &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tryin' to be so perfect&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yeah...&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I want to say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'd say I want to blow you--away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Be with you every night&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Am I squeezing you too tight?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I want to see&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want to see you go down--on one knee&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Marry me today&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Guess I'm wishing my life away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;With these things I'll never say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It don't do me any good it's just a waste of time&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What use is it to you what's on my mind?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If it ain't comin' out, we're not going anywhere&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So why can't I just tell you that I care?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'Cause I'm feeling nervous&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tryin' to be so perfect&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yeah...&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I wanna say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'd say I want to blow you--away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Be with you every night&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Am I squeezing you too tight?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I wanna see&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want to see you go down--on one knee&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Marry me today&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Guess I'm wishing my life away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;With these things I'll never say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(What is)What's wrong with my tongue?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;These words keep slipping away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I stutter I stumble like I've got nothing to say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'Cause I'm feeling nervous&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Trying to be so perfect&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yeah...&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;[Verbal Acoustics]&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I guess I'm wishing my life away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;With these things I'll never say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I want to say&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'd say I want to blow you--away&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Be with you every night&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Am I squeezing you too tight?&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If I could say what I want to see&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want to see you go down--on one knee&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Marry me today&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Guess I'm wishing my life away......&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; These things I'll never say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-7211554946141793371?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/7211554946141793371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=7211554946141793371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7211554946141793371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/7211554946141793371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2007/04/avril.html' title='avril'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-3811676573704270146</id><published>2007-04-14T00:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T00:25:40.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No, this does not relate to James</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I thought you'd be out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;And I'd finally found a way to&lt;br /&gt;Learn to live without you&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was just a matter of time&lt;br /&gt;Til I had a hundred reasons&lt;br /&gt;Not to think about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's just not so&lt;br /&gt;And after all this time&lt;br /&gt;I still can't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've still got your face&lt;br /&gt;Painted on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Scrawled upon my soul&lt;br /&gt;Etched upon my memory baby&lt;br /&gt;I've got your kiss&lt;br /&gt;Still burning on my lips&lt;br /&gt;The touch of my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;Is love so deep inside of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying everything that I can&lt;br /&gt;To get my heart to forget you&lt;br /&gt;But it just can't seem to&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's just no use&lt;br /&gt;In every part of me&lt;br /&gt;Is still a part of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've still got your face&lt;br /&gt;Painted on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Scrawled upon my soul&lt;br /&gt;Etched upon my memory baby&lt;br /&gt;I've got your kiss&lt;br /&gt;Still burning on my lips&lt;br /&gt;The touch of my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;Is love so deep inside of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in your eyes keeps haunting me&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to escape you&lt;br /&gt;And I knwo there ain't no way to&lt;br /&gt;To chase you from my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Painted on my heart" by The Cult&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-3811676573704270146?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/3811676573704270146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=3811676573704270146' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/3811676573704270146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/3811676573704270146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2007/04/no-this-does-not-relate-to-james.html' title='No, this does not relate to James'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-5569645406241514520</id><published>2007-04-03T09:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T09:42:42.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>For a class, I had to write my own obituary.  That was difficult for a couple of reasons.&lt;br /&gt;1) I don' t like to think about dying.  There are too many amazing things in my life to give it all up for death.  There are too many amazing people I'd leave behind that I would miss greatly.  I wouldn't get to see my son grow up, and I would miss out on a lot of thing with him.&lt;br /&gt;2)It made me re-think everything I'm doing. Like, is it worth it to do musicals when I could be helping someone out?  What kind of mark am I going to leave for the world when I'm gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two dear friends gave me great quotes.  I almost have to put them here just to remind myself that I really have made a difference in the 21 years on this earth. Personanlly, I believe I do everything I can to make a difference and enjoy my life. But then I step back and ask "is that enough?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiny said "She has brought laughter, been there through the tears, and always made me glad to be who I am.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  She made me realize that we each have something unique to offer the world.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah said "Sometimes, when someone passes away, all that seems to be said about them are the age old clichés.  But I want to catch the joy, liveliness, and love Tabitha brought to all the people around her in her life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do any of you in blogger land feel the same way?  Please tell me who you are if its anonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Tabitha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-5569645406241514520?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/5569645406241514520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=5569645406241514520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/5569645406241514520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/5569645406241514520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2007/04/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-3977833083930766402</id><published>2007-02-27T00:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T00:28:44.732-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day ...</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been obsessed with the soundtrack from Rent.   I'm not quite sure why ... the music is really good, but there is nothing that strikes close to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong - I would love to play Mimi someday ... partly because her personality is so opposite mine.  Well maybe not the personality, but how she chooses to show it and the life that she chooses to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the past few months have been really hairy with school.  It's been hard keeping everything organized - but I'm doing it!  And that is an amazing attribution to the skills I learned in high school, and never thought I'd use.   I never took a class to learn them ... they were just learned by all the stuff I had going on in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm juggling a full load of classes, musical rehearsals, the baby and his schedule, and housework.  Not that I have a lot of housework to do, but it's hard to live in an area where things are just scattered around as though they'll fall at anytime you touch them.  Oh well ... that's not a huge problem ... my room is slightly organized. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, because it is late, I need to go and finish the homework and get into bed so I can get up for classes tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-3977833083930766402?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/3977833083930766402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=3977833083930766402' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/3977833083930766402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/3977833083930766402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2007/02/another-day.html' title='Another Day ...'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-116250548466408756</id><published>2006-11-02T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T17:11:24.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>Two years ago I was sitting in my dorm room, fighting with my roommate who wouldn't talk to me, cramming for finals, and knowing exactly where I wanted to go with my life.  I knew where I belonged, who I fit in with, and what I was going to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year and a half ago I was desperately trying to hold onto someone who was leaving and who I loved very much.   I was ending up my first year of college and enjoying all of the things I would be coming back to the next year.  Yet I still knew exactly where I was going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago my world fell apart.   Everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I knew fell out from under me and I was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun ready to fire at any point and time to take me away from what I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months ago I thought there was still hope to follow the path I wanted to follow.  I was worn out, living at home and feeling confined, but I thought I could find hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I fell worn out, exhausted, burnt out, and as though I don't matter.  I know there are people out there who I matter very much to, but for all their support and help and kindness I feel so alone still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm jealous of someone who doesn't deserve my time or my energy worrying about.  He has the freedom I crave - and for that I wish I could forever be damned.  I love my child and I wouldn't trade him for ANYTHING.  I just wish the other half of the equation could deal with the late-night feedings and the screaming and the massively dirty diapers.  But someday he will have another child - I don't know when ... but then he will deal with all of those things and fell what I feel.  And I won't care what he goes through - it's not worth my time or my energy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-116250548466408756?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/116250548466408756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=116250548466408756' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116250548466408756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116250548466408756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/11/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-116218663368737825</id><published>2006-10-30T00:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T00:37:13.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life goes on</title><content type='html'>You've got to get up in the morning, go on with the day.  And someday things will stop seeming so tedious and you'll realize that they worked out just as they were supposed to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Someday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-116218663368737825?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/116218663368737825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=116218663368737825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116218663368737825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116218663368737825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-goes-on.html' title='Life goes on'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-116086766453924514</id><published>2006-10-14T19:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T19:14:24.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Turn signals</title><content type='html'>Today's discussion is on turn signals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY DON'T PEOPLE USE THEIR TURN SIGNALS???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They come standard with cars.  They are required to be used by law, and you can get a ticket if you don't use a turn signal.  And yet ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They turn in front of you, speeding and you have no knowledge they are going to turn.  The cars careen out of control in front of you on a highway and you don't know whats happening - until they switch lanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes - I LOVE the way people drive without their turnsignals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to put a sign on my car - TURN SIGNALS COME STANDARD MORON!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-116086766453924514?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/116086766453924514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=116086766453924514' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116086766453924514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/116086766453924514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/10/turn-signals.html' title='Turn signals'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115958707615201496</id><published>2006-09-29T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T01:12:04.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Do they have radios in Heaven?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Radios In Heaven"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- Plain White Tees -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your time has already come and I don't know why&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The last thing that I had heard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you were doin' just fine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It seems like just yesterday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was laughing with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Playing games at Grandma's house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;well you taught me well, didn't you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope I'm just like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do they have radios in heaven?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope they do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause they're playing my song on the radio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'm singing it to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You left before I had a chance to say goodbye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But that's the way life usually is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it just passes you by&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But you can't hold on to regrets and you can't look back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I'll just be thankful for the times that I had with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope I'm just like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do they have radios in heaven?&lt;br /&gt;I hope they do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause they're playing my song on the radio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'm singing it to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If they don't have radios in heaven&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;here's what I'll do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tell me can you hear me now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;if not, then I can try to sing real loud&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What's it like up on the other side of the clouds?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope I'm just like you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope I turn out to be as good as you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115958707615201496?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115958707615201496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115958707615201496' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115958707615201496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115958707615201496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/09/do-they-have-radios-in-heaven.html' title='Do they have radios in Heaven?'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115887251960722124</id><published>2006-09-21T17:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T17:01:59.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbyes</title><content type='html'>Hmm ... I never knew a goodbye could be misinterpreted.  Gosh - I guess just about anything you say nowadays can be taken a wrong way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just too bad I didn't know how to say it so it woulnd't be taken the wrong way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115887251960722124?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115887251960722124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115887251960722124' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115887251960722124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115887251960722124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/09/goodbyes_21.html' title='Goodbyes'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115798184802849103</id><published>2006-09-11T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T09:37:28.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's terribly sad watching a piece of the past &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WALK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; away forever ... and realizing that there is nothing I can do to change what happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't totally my doing - it wasn't totally his doing.  It seems as though the forces of the world worked against us in the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you read this anymore, I don't know if you even care - but &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Be safe over there - I'm still proud of you for being a soldier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115798184802849103?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115798184802849103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115798184802849103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115798184802849103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115798184802849103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-terribly-sad-watching-piece-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115689671410149827</id><published>2006-08-29T20:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T20:11:54.120-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The struggles make you stronger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And the changes make you wise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And happiness has it's own way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;of taking its sweet time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Life ain't always beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tears will fall sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Life ain't always beautiful,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But it's a beautiful ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a&gt;NO MATTER THE STRUGGLES,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NO MATTER THE PAIN,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LOOK UP AT THE SKY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YOU'LL SEE THROUGH THE RAIN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WITH FRIENDS BY YOUR SIDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;AND FAMILY CLOSE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THINGS WILL TURN OUT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WHEN YOU NEED IT MOST&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115689671410149827?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115689671410149827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115689671410149827' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115689671410149827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115689671410149827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/08/struggles-make-you-stronger.html' title='The struggles make you stronger'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115655858671011413</id><published>2006-08-25T22:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T22:17:19.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just because someone doesn't love you as you want</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm sitting here supposedly reading material for my classes and I thought back to a comment on a previous entry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"just because someone doesnt love you the way you want doesnt mean they dont love you with all that they have and all that they are"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow ... it's amazing how true those words are! There are people who throw themselves into every relationship they are in - family, friends, work, boyfriend/girlfriend - and they succeed in letting everyone know how much they are loved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then there are those who stay on the sidelines and love people but don't know how to tell them - but when they do the the courage or the appropriate way, watch out because you're hooked for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess the quote made me feel kind of silly. I don't want someone to love me just because I love them or have feelings for them - I want them to love me for me. And if that just means sitting on the sidelines until the time comes where they feel comfortable expressing even friendly love - so be it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115655858671011413?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115655858671011413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115655858671011413' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115655858671011413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115655858671011413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/08/just-because-someone-doesnt-love-you.html' title='Just because someone doesn&apos;t love you as you want'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115620635197975403</id><published>2006-08-21T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T20:25:52.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every light in the house is on&lt;br /&gt;Just in case you ever do get tired of bein gone&lt;br /&gt;Every light in the house is on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you grandpap&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115620635197975403?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115620635197975403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115620635197975403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115620635197975403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115620635197975403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/08/every-light-in-house-is-on-just-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115611329233174594</id><published>2006-08-20T18:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T18:37:10.483-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And boom ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;a&gt;You're all grown up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In some ways, I'm very glad where I am. But thinking back, I sometimes wish I was still in 5th grade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Granted, I was a dork back then. I didn't dress in the 'cool' clothes, I didn't have the 'cool' friends, and I had glasses. But back then, I was the girl trying to get through school, trying to get straight A marks, and hoping that someday I would grow out of my awkward, gangly stage and find someone to love me. The only thing I really worried about was my next test and who would be home to play with after school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So maybe the only thing that actually has changed is the fact that I'm no longer in 5th grade, and my worries are a whole lot more intense. Granted, I don't wear the same terrible pants, or the same awful shirts, but I don't go out and buy something just because it is in style either. I guess everything else fits though - I'm still trying to get through school with the highest marks, hoping to get out of this awkward stage and find someone to love me. I think I'm going to need a miracle for some of those things to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They don't always happen when you ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And it's easy to give in to your fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But when you're blinded by your pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't see the way clear through the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A small but resilient voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Says hope is very near &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There can be miracles, w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hen you believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Though hope is frail, i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;t's hard to kill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Who knows what miracles, y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ou can achieve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When you believe, s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;omehow you will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You will when you believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115611329233174594?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115611329233174594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115611329233174594' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115611329233174594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115611329233174594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/08/and-boom.html' title='And boom ...'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115519022769278854</id><published>2006-08-10T02:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T02:10:27.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well now ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I guess it's time I started to take my own advice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was talking to a dear friend of mine today, and she just went through a break-up.  He was begging her to get back together but she didn't know what she wanted.  So I told her this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Write down a list of everything you want to do in your life.  It can be anything - no matter how small, or how crazy it sounds.  If you want to do it someday, write in on your list.  Then go and write a list of all the things you want in a guy.  Make sure this list isn't tailored so someone specific, just make it as if you have met the perfect guy with no flaws whatsoever.  Then, after you have accomplished both of those tasks, look at the guy you broke up with and see what he fits with.  If he fits 50% or more of the things on both lists, start back from the beginning.  If he doesn't fit 50%, he isn't what you need in a man and he isn't worth the time or the trouble right now.  He could change, but right now he isn't worth the trouble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is the point I go and bite my tongue because I haven't exactly taken my own advice.   &lt;a&gt;Why did I have to do that to myself???&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115519022769278854?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115519022769278854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115519022769278854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115519022769278854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115519022769278854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/08/well-now.html' title='Well now ...'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115421809719282666</id><published>2006-07-29T20:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T22:24:24.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Throughout my life ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've looked over the crazy things I've done in life and it makes me laugh. Here is just a sampling of the things that I've done ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~I slapped a man who went to prison for robbing Taco Bell with a BB Gun. He also likes to think of ways to torture people&lt;br /&gt;~I worked as a dental assistant in a third world country &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I fell out of a tree, got stuck in a laundry chute, and thought I could fly by being pushed out of a tree in a box - all by the age of 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I have survived 4 semesters of college and have been on the deans list or higher 3 of the 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I have given birth to a beautiful baby boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I found, and lost, and amazing love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I taped football games for 2 semesters and basketball games for 1 and was one of the only female who knew what I was doing with football right off the bat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~I have kept friendships through good and bad and all the struggles that accompany both&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Putting a pool in in the backyard of my parents house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know that isn't an impressive list for most people to see when I look back at it.  But all of the things listed above bring back memories for me or make me smile.  Yes, even being gullible enough to think I could fly.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's amazing all the cool things I've done - and I owe it to Tiny for helping me realize that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115421809719282666?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115421809719282666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115421809719282666' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115421809719282666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115421809719282666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/07/throughout-my-life.html' title='Throughout my life ...'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115405900068029688</id><published>2006-07-27T23:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T23:56:53.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is that feeling you get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; - the one in the pit of your stomach that tells you you've either eaten too many nachos or you've got butterflies inhabiting your innards. Where does it come from? And why does it seem to show up at the time you most want it to disappear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lately I've been noticing my mind wandering. I keep it fenced it so it doesn't wander too far but I don't know what I'm thinking about. Okay, I take that back. I know what I'm thinking but I don't want to discuss that with anyone. There are too many reprocussions if things get out of hand and I don't want that to happen to anyone ... especially in this situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is really cryptic and pretty boring and awful to read I'm sure, but its how I feel and I have to get it out somewhere. The people I can normally talk to are the ones who are affected by where my mind is wandering and I don't want to drag them in any more than I have already. It doesn't make the thoughts any easier, it just helps me to know that I have to be able to deal with them on my own. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really has been a pretty awful day - it poured outside and I thought I was looking in the mirror. I spent most of it in tears or upset about one thing or another - but none of it is going to matter when I die so I don't know why I'm making such a big fuss over it. Okay, yeah I do but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I had a dream last night that really caught me off guard. I woke up smiling, but then when I put two and two together and realized what it all meant I started to go off into my own little world and my mind wandered. And from there I couldn't concentrate on anything. You see, this dream was something I want so desperately - but am so afraid I'm not going to get that it scares me to think about. I don't want my desperation to get in the way of how things are meant to be and the plan that is laid out before me. But then I wonder if there actually is a plan for me and I get myself into even more trouble because I've just come back full circle to the desperation of the thing I want. And then, like now, I try to put my thoughts and feelings onto paper without completely giving myself away and I end up talking in riddles and not making much sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess above all else the thing I want is happiness. My friends and my family make me happy but not the kind of everlasting happiness I crave. There are those who tell me "look to God, he'll grant you the happiness you long for." But look where that has gotten me so far - heartbroken, single, feeling worthless. And who knows if he's even there? I used to have faith that could move mountains or part seas. I honestly don't know what happened - but now things are difficult and I'm not one to boast about my faith because I don't have much of it anymore. I guess when your whole life looks as if it is going to come down around you your outlook on life changes. And I think thats what happened here. My life fell apart, and with it my spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably a bad thing when you get up in the morning, look at yourself in the mirror, and think "why do you even bother getting up?" And then the baby is crying and there is no one to help you take care of him because those who normally do have things THEY have to do today. But after he eats and burps, he sits up, looks you in the eyes and smiles and things get better. And thats the reason you know you got out of bed. To see that smile, and the love in those little brown eyes that just shine as though God has placed the stars behind each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now after the complete turnaround in topics and random stuff I just wrote about, here is a line for you to remember through the day ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Tiny: I'm driving home at 50 mph on a stinking donut&lt;br /&gt;Beethia: Haha, bet the cops love you!!! Mmm ... donuts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115405900068029688?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115405900068029688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115405900068029688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115405900068029688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115405900068029688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/07/there-is-that-feeling-you-get-one-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115378700137460683</id><published>2006-07-24T20:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T20:31:37.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You've gotta read it to believe it</title><content type='html'>So it's time for a grammar lesson. I'm tired of trying to decipher writings of people and comments as though they are some ancient egyptian script written on a cave. Here it goes ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*U is a letter in the alphabet not a word. The correct spelling is YOU.&lt;br /&gt;*UR is a place in the Bible - Abram and Lot traveled there. YOUR is the correct word there.&lt;br /&gt;*YOUR is posessive - it does not mean you are. That would be YOU'RE.&lt;br /&gt;*N is also a letter in the alphabet.  The only place to use this would be in a place name ie Shop-n-Save.  AND would be used there.&lt;br /&gt;*BCUZ - also known as BECAUSE.&lt;br /&gt;*KNO - Laziness took over with this one - there is one letter more on the word to try and spell it.  Come on ... KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;*SUM1 - numbers and letters should not be used in the same word.  Email addresses are the only exceptions to this and there are so many people with email sometimes you HAVE to have numbers and letters combined.  This would actually be SOMEONE&lt;br /&gt;*DIFF is a mathematical term.  It means the difference between numbers.   DIFFERENT and difference are two seperate things.&lt;br /&gt;*Speaking of different - R is an alphabetical letter, while ARE is a word.&lt;br /&gt;*W/E is only to be used while taking shorthand notes.  A keyboard has all the letters of the alphabet and if you have a fast enough word per minute and minimal errors, you can type as someone talks to you.  WHATEVER is the word of the day on this one ...&lt;br /&gt;*Puncuation is only to be used at the end of the sentence.  There is no. need to put. a period after every. few words in. the. sentence.  It is just distracting and there is NO call for it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is all for today.  I'm not going to be an english teacher but laziness has become the norm and I am going to do my best to combat that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOME PEOPLE'S KIDS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115378700137460683?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115378700137460683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115378700137460683' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115378700137460683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115378700137460683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/07/youve-gotta-read-it-to-believe-it.html' title='You&apos;ve gotta read it to believe it'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115323722874813546</id><published>2006-07-18T11:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T11:40:28.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The greatest thing you'll ever learn</title><content type='html'>So, I figure its time for me to actually write a blog that has some sort of meaning to it.  Most of the time the things I write are nothing but ramblings that don't matter here or there.  But it's time to write something that really can be understood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I should break out into the song "Nature Boy"  especially the last line of the chorus.&lt;br /&gt;"The greatest thing you'll ever learn ... is just to love ... and be loved in return."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not in love.  No, I'm not in a relationship.  But those are words that mean a lot to me.  I've spent a lot of time recently beating myself up because I wish I could go back and redo some things in my life.  I wish I could have seen where my life would be right now ... but then I would be one person less.  In some ways I wish I could erase the last three years of my life - all of the troubles I caused, all of the pain I felt and all of the issues that have arisen because of it.  But if I were to do that I would lose the most important thing I have in this world - my son.  And while I wish things were different in some circles, I can't change the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard somewhere that I'm cruel, and that I've changed and I don't know what made me the way I am and how I've become.  I may have changed - but only back into what I was before all of this happened.  I'm sure one of you who reads this knows who says those thing about me.  I know you're her best friend.  But that doesn't matter anymore.  I'm not out to insult - I'm just out to state the facts.   I was going to be a reporter and with that job comes the responsibility of reporting the truth.  So you want the truth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and badmouth me - go ahead and try to make me feel awful with the things you write.  You got yourselves into the position you're in and I tried to help you out.  Learn from this - treat others nicely and don't yell at them all the time and maybe, just maybe, you'll get farther next time.  The things you say have no effect on me at all.  I laugh when you write because you're making yourselves angry and anger only hurts you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you're going to comment on this and you don't have an account - be balsy and leave your name instead of being a wimp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115323722874813546?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115323722874813546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115323722874813546' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115323722874813546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115323722874813546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/07/greatest-thing-youll-ever-learn.html' title='The greatest thing you&apos;ll ever learn'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115230992081838952</id><published>2006-07-07T18:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T18:05:20.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>Life works in mysterious ways - one minute you're headed down the road of life and the next you're on your butt waiting for the dust to clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will life ever seem to work out fairly?  I don't think justice will ever prevail.   It's days like this one that make me want to just throw in the towel and find something else for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't do that.  I just can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115230992081838952?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115230992081838952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115230992081838952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115230992081838952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115230992081838952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/07/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115146570733461072</id><published>2006-06-27T23:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T23:35:23.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>been awhile</title><content type='html'>So it's been awhile since I've written one of these and I just decided I should take a few minutes and write. Hmm ... so lets see ... I just watched Mrs. Doubtfire, probably one of the best movies of all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm watching "Dirty Jobs", and I just learned that the owl pellets we disected in high school were NOT owl poo - the pellets were owl vomit. Oh doesn't that make your stomach rumble with hunger ... yuk! Haha - and he was just attacked by an owl!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put in a lot of rough nights ... I've been dreaming some strange things and it's hard to sleep because of it. I don't remember any of them but I do know they are strange. Hmm ... maybe its something I've been eating???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure this isn't interesting to many people, but to those of you who have read this, kudos to you. I'm just sorry it can't be more interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115146570733461072?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115146570733461072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115146570733461072' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115146570733461072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115146570733461072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/06/been-awhile.html' title='been awhile'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-115026208776166240</id><published>2006-06-14T01:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T01:14:47.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in response</title><content type='html'>There was an anonymous comment left on another entry and I think I know who wrote it.  I'm not naming names because my objective is not to hurt anyone or blame ... I just wanted to respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what you see ... there is someone out there for me.  I'm sorry but you don't know the things we went through ... the battles we fought and the things we went through on a daily basis.  I don't expect a pity party from anyone ... thats not the way I work.  Yeah, things are rough and I have a part in that ... but its not all me.  There are a lot of things that went on that I'm sure none of you - you, kim, and denise - know about.  And even if you did things would be blamed on me when they aren't all my fault.  I feel bad for hurting him - but I know that he will get over it and find someone.  And I will find someone who loves me as much as he does or more than he did - it's only a matter of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-115026208776166240?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/115026208776166240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=115026208776166240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115026208776166240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/115026208776166240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/06/in-response.html' title='in response'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114982573742334622</id><published>2006-06-08T23:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T00:23:58.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>happy ending ....</title><content type='html'>You were everything, everything that I wanted&lt;br /&gt;We were meant to be, supposed to be but we lost it&lt;br /&gt;All of the memories so close to me just fade away&lt;br /&gt;All this time you were pretending &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;so much for my happy ending&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the lyrics in the song say, I was jilted out of a happy ending. But as I look back I realize it was all for the better. After reanalyzing my relationship I have realized that things would have ended - whether it was then or after a few years of marriage in divorce. And in a way I'm glad it happened now instead of later. There is just so much I would have missed out on if I would have moved to another state like I had planned. I wouldn't have been able to see my brother graduate and I would have missed that big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I still feel bad that things ended the way that they did, it's time for me to stop beating myself up about it all and try to move on. And I think thats what I'm going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have&lt;br /&gt;And cannonball into the water&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have&lt;br /&gt;For you, I will ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114982573742334622?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114982573742334622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114982573742334622' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114982573742334622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114982573742334622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-ending.html' title='happy ending ....'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114913387519762878</id><published>2006-05-31T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:51:15.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlee Simpson</title><content type='html'>On a Monday, I am waiting&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, I am fading&lt;br /&gt;And by Wednesday, I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;Then the phone rings, I hear you&lt;br /&gt;And the darkness is a clear view&lt;br /&gt;Cuz you've come to rescue me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall... With you, I fall so fast&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly catch my breath,&lt;br /&gt;I hope it lasts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real&lt;br /&gt;I like the way that feels&lt;br /&gt;OhhhhhIt's as if you've known me better than I ever knew myself&lt;br /&gt;I love how you can tell&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am moody, messy&lt;br /&gt;I get restless, and it's senseless&lt;br /&gt;How you never seem to care&lt;br /&gt;When I'm angry, you listen&lt;br /&gt;When youre happy, it's a mission&lt;br /&gt;And you wont stop 'til I'm there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall... Sometimes I fall so fast&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hit that bottom&lt;br /&gt;Crash, you're all I have&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real&lt;br /&gt;I like the way that feels&lt;br /&gt;OhhhhhIt's as if you known me better than I ever knew myself&lt;br /&gt;I love how you can tell&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know everything&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to say?&lt;br /&gt;Am I that obvious?&lt;br /&gt;And if it's written on my face...&lt;br /&gt;I hope it never goes away... yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Monday, I am waiting&lt;br /&gt;And by Tuesday, I am fading into your arms...&lt;br /&gt;So I can breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real&lt;br /&gt;I love the way that feels&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;It's as if you've know me better than I ever knew myself&lt;br /&gt;I love how you can tell&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;I love how you can tell&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;I love how you can tell&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday I'll find that guy ... someday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114913387519762878?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114913387519762878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114913387519762878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114913387519762878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114913387519762878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/05/ashlee-simpson.html' title='Ashlee Simpson'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114902099862938407</id><published>2006-05-30T16:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T16:29:58.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiding</title><content type='html'>Hidden feelings, Please stay hidden&lt;br /&gt;You hurt too much to express&lt;br /&gt;I almost wish my heart was breaking&lt;br /&gt;For this is what I CAN express&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden feelings, please stay hidden&lt;br /&gt;My mind is such a mess&lt;br /&gt;I long to just go for ONE day&lt;br /&gt;When my life does not regress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden feelings, please stay hidden&lt;br /&gt;I do not want your pain&lt;br /&gt;This thing I feel is much too new&lt;br /&gt;I don't want all the strain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden feelings, please stay hidden&lt;br /&gt;This all is new to me&lt;br /&gt;For so long I've been in a shell&lt;br /&gt;Now I just want to be free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden feelings, don't stay hidden&lt;br /&gt;It's time for them to see&lt;br /&gt;My life is good and I will live&lt;br /&gt;No matter where you lead&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114902099862938407?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114902099862938407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114902099862938407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114902099862938407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114902099862938407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/05/hiding.html' title='Hiding'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114861346778954262</id><published>2006-05-25T23:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T23:17:47.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The comments of the day:</title><content type='html'>*I just threw up in my mouth a little&lt;br /&gt;*Just so you know scary movies make me jump so I'm probably going to burrow into you&lt;br /&gt;*Excuse me while I gag&lt;br /&gt;*Are you for serious???&lt;br /&gt;*sky=blue ... no wait ... sky=kinda gray now that you mention it, then it rained a little bit, kinda windy, then it stopped, and then it got dark....&lt;br /&gt;*I have to go pray to the porcelain gods now ...&lt;br /&gt;*Dude, you smell!&lt;br /&gt;*It looks like the Loch Ness Monster!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114861346778954262?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114861346778954262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114861346778954262' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114861346778954262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114861346778954262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/05/comments-of-day.html' title='The comments of the day:'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114844428074423070</id><published>2006-05-24T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T00:18:00.753-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing</title><content type='html'>I feel as though I'm missing something.  I don't know if its in my social life(what little of it there is), in my daydreams, or whether it is something right under my nose.  I want to be able to find  out what it is - I just have a hard time looking inside myself anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of times when I look inside I see a broken heart - a soul in need of serious repair and I have no clue how to even start dealing with either of those.  I see blackness - guilt for things done ine the past - those that can never be changed, although I don't know if I would want to change them now that I think about it.  Life isn't supposed to be this way - its not supposed to seem as though everyday is a never ending saga I just want to get out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to have a husband and a family and grow old with one man - not need to have a job, but to have the capability to get one if I needed to.  Now I don't even know if I want to do that anymore.  I have the beginnings of a family - a beautiful baby boy - but I'm not sure if I can ever handle dating again.  I don't want to have my heart broken - I don't think I can take anymore hurts like I have been dealt.  To some it may seem as though I am just a hard hearted girl who needs to grow up and deal with life.  But my heart isn't heardened to all people - just those who hurt me dearly.  And when you hurt me badly you don't deserve to be let into my heart again.  I gave you a chance and it was ruined.  I don't ever want to go through that again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114844428074423070?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114844428074423070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114844428074423070' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114844428074423070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114844428074423070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/05/missing.html' title='Missing'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28575490.post-114835280691795759</id><published>2006-05-22T22:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T22:53:26.936-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Number  1</title><content type='html'>So the first entry ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly sure what to say on here.  It seems, by the title, I should be saying something of substance about joys and life in general.  Unfortunately it isn't so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And until I can thik of something worthwhile I am signing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28575490-114835280691795759?l=joys-beethia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/feeds/114835280691795759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28575490&amp;postID=114835280691795759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114835280691795759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28575490/posts/default/114835280691795759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joys-beethia.blogspot.com/2006/05/number-1.html' title='Number  1'/><author><name>Beethia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02617504726899543430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h3vlQvJ8FF4/SN_I99BvvGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1eWIRkIas5c/S220/nanowrimo_participant_icon_122x244.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
