<?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-5164611371493413410</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:39:38.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pieces of My Heart</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-709963906011290664</id><published>2009-06-22T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T13:03:12.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Distraction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sj_jcVgBJxI/AAAAAAAAABo/1Sh0ZVkmRvI/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350244958286718738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sj_jcVgBJxI/AAAAAAAAABo/1Sh0ZVkmRvI/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just realized something...I ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO TRAVEL!!! The very idea of it sends my heart into a flutter that is so earth shattering I can barely breath. I get so excited just looking at flights, places to stay, what to do, where to eat...OMG my heart is pounding. I spoke to a friend today and we talked about the idea of taking a trip to Key West or Belize. Seriously, it sent my melancholy mood straight over the rainbow! I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when she is first skipping down the yellow brick road "off to see the wizard..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now whether or not this trip will actually come to fruition remains to be seen, obviously. But it certainly gave me something else to focus on besides my feelings of misery. I was going thru all the websites and suddenly I realized I was smiling again. It feels good to be happy. I need this feeling all the time. I'd like to bottle it into an elixir and get drunk off of it daily. This is how I should feel all the time. It's like getting to the top of the roller coaster right before it heads into a deep drop...Pure EXHILARATION AS YOU SCREAM YOUR HEAD OFF DURING THE FREE FALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's where I am at right now...and I LIKE IT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-709963906011290664?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/709963906011290664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/great-distraction.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/709963906011290664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/709963906011290664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/great-distraction.html' title='A Great Distraction'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sj_jcVgBJxI/AAAAAAAAABo/1Sh0ZVkmRvI/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-7204912297043376063</id><published>2009-06-18T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T14:21:52.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Over It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SjpVIDpVslI/AAAAAAAAABg/h56P5W_Dr8U/s1600-h/brokenheart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348681104361894482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SjpVIDpVslI/AAAAAAAAABg/h56P5W_Dr8U/s320/brokenheart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Everyone has their own way of getting over someone. Many women I have met are super strong. They make a decision and never look back - they are done. There are others that pine over the person until they are sick and are pretty much on their way to stalkerville. It might take a court order for them to realize it's over and there is no getting around it. Then there is me. I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"FEEL"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; everything from sadness, to joy, to desperately missing, to anger and pain...ALL OF IT!!! I will retreat into my shell for some time and go over and over everything, the good the bad and the ugly. I will talk to countless friends to get their opinion about what I should do. Even though I know ALL of their answers will be the same, I still ask. I'm not sure if this helps or not, but I'm sure my talking about it over and over must drive them insane. Actually, now that I think of it...they must really be great friends just to put up with that bullshit! :-) I think when it boils down to it, they just want to see me happy. And I truly want to be happy too. But getting there is what takes what seems like FOREVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So what can I do to make these feelings go away and get to happy? Try to remember how I got to this place, maybe. Come to terms with why I feel so jilted and why I need to move on. Stop, stop, stop remembering the good times. Try to put them in the back of my mind for now. And start keeping in mind the reasons why I need to get out of this relationship. Ugh, ok...here we go. Let's start from the beginning:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Hmm, you cheated on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2. You went on a fucking cruise with another woman and lied about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3. You would get angry with me for no apparent reason and not talk to me for days/weeks at a time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4. You stiffeled my personality to the point where I was not myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5. You drink too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;6. You seem to think that buying me things is a way of showing affection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;7. I am always last on your list&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;8. You are insecure and jealous which is interesting considering #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9. You refuse to be close to my family or allow me to be close to yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;10. You are extremely materialistic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;11. You don't like skiing, golfing, nature, sunshine, dancing, to be romantic, my friends, my family, trying new things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;12. You know that I want to get married and have a family, yet you do not share that desire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;13. You seem to think it's ok for you to talk to all the women you want to, but if I do it, I'm cheating on you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;14. You are all about you and your needs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;15. You are not proud of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;16. You never get excited over things that I am excited about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;17. You have attacked my integrity and my character &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;18. You have allowed your friends to do the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;19. As many times as I backed you up - even if you were wrong, you have never done the same for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;20. You can't say I love you unless you are drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;21.  You completely ignore my feelings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;22.  Hmm, you're an asshole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;23.  You couldn't even pick up YOUR birthday gift from my parents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;24.  You have a track record for hurting women that care for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;25.  You use your family as a cover for lies you tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;26.  You took back gifts you gave me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;27.  You always talk about "all the things you have done for me" but never ever acknowledge all that I have done for you...and somehow I manage to give these things without putting it back in your face as you have with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;28.   I feel like I have wasted the last 4 years of my life, love and heart on a man that didn't give a damn about me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;29.  You broke my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;30.  You pretended to be my friend, but you are no friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;31.  You betrayed your own best friend to cover for another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;32.  I don't think people really like you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;33.  You don't know how to be in social settings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;34.  You have never fought for me like I have for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;35.  You are controlling and domineering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;36.  You don't respect women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;37.  You have double standards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;38.  You don't know how to love anyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;39.  You are not trustworthy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;40.  You look at marriage in a very negative light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll write more as I come up with them. This makes me feel a little better...&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/5164611371493413410-7204912297043376063?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7204912297043376063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/getting-over-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/7204912297043376063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/7204912297043376063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/getting-over-it.html' title='Getting Over It'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SjpVIDpVslI/AAAAAAAAABg/h56P5W_Dr8U/s72-c/brokenheart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-5530027161357807127</id><published>2009-06-05T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T16:39:35.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the angel book of days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SimsUob5HSI/AAAAAAAAABY/w1W-x6JcryM/s1600-h/app_full_proxy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343991903303572770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SimsUob5HSI/AAAAAAAAABY/w1W-x6JcryM/s320/app_full_proxy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 5th&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Pride, ego and inflexibility will hinder you. Your Angels teach you forgiveness, sympathy, and understanding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-5530027161357807127?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5530027161357807127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/angel-book-of-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/5530027161357807127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/5530027161357807127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/angel-book-of-days.html' title='the angel book of days'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SimsUob5HSI/AAAAAAAAABY/w1W-x6JcryM/s72-c/app_full_proxy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-7812548420696745994</id><published>2009-06-04T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T14:07:45.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Shoot Me Now...</title><content type='html'>1.  Guy I've known for years and is like a brother to me, has lived with his girlfriend for 4 years and who I never thought in a millions years would get married...Does!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sigzhh1QEtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7HNjC4yi0is/s1600-h/060121_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343577608985514706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sigzhh1QEtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7HNjC4yi0is/s320/060121_4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  Girlfriend who has only been dating her boyfriend a year gets engaged at the coast this past weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  One of my best friends is about to give birth to a beautiful baby girl in a week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  FUCK, one of the ugliest girls I know (sorry, but really, she's hard to look at) has even landed a man and is planning her wedding for this January.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  Another girlfriend (this one is funny) is planning her wedding and hasn't even gotten her ring yet (although her boyfriend claims it's in the works)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.  Yet another, quit smoking cuz they are planning to start trying to have a baby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.  Oh, and #6's brother...yea, met a girl six months ago and already proposed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8.  A co-worker, just showed me a picture of her brother who just proposed to his girlfriend in the airport after he got off the plane from Iraq.  The ring was the size of my head!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9.  I think you get the picture&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10.  Does there really even need to be a ten here?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What gives?  What is wrong with me?  What did I do to still be alone and almost 40?  I've been thru two fucked up divorces and two horrible miscarriages.  I'm so sad and angry...and most of all lonely.  I think I deserve to be happy and have someone to share the rest of my life with.  Have a few kiddos and watch them grow up and call me mommy.  Why is that asking too much when it comes so easy for everyone else it seems?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just don't get it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-7812548420696745994?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7812548420696745994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-shoot-me-now.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/7812548420696745994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/7812548420696745994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-shoot-me-now.html' title='Just Shoot Me Now...'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/Sigzhh1QEtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7HNjC4yi0is/s72-c/060121_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-3791890655260955329</id><published>2009-06-03T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T06:44:52.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WEDNESDAY RANT!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiZ8Ihqx3JI/AAAAAAAAABI/7yzDyrhgHnc/s1600-h/Kung-Fu-Cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343094493840268434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiZ8Ihqx3JI/AAAAAAAAABI/7yzDyrhgHnc/s320/Kung-Fu-Cat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously...do your OWN fucking job!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tell you, I can't stand it when I walk in the door and someone has taken it upon themselves to do my job. It makes me feel like I'm not doing it. Seriously dude, if you want to do it, then I won't come in earlier than everyone else every day! I'll come later, LIKE everyone else! WTF?!?! You are not doing me any favors, you are just pissing me off!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note, my friend turned me on to Men vs. Wild with Will Ferrell (who I love). I watched it for the first time last night. They spent 48 hours in the mountains in a blizzard and ate a deer's head to survive. Needless to say, I had some pretty crazy dreams last night. HA, I love it! I bet Will questions why he ever agreed to do this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-3791890655260955329?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3791890655260955329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/wednesday-rant.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/3791890655260955329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/3791890655260955329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/wednesday-rant.html' title='WEDNESDAY RANT!'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiZ8Ihqx3JI/AAAAAAAAABI/7yzDyrhgHnc/s72-c/Kung-Fu-Cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-1076659082952906283</id><published>2009-06-02T14:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T14:44:25.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes It's Only Tuesday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiWc6_GwVAI/AAAAAAAAABA/ny-UyuO1nsg/s1600-h/miller.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342849070131074050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiWc6_GwVAI/AAAAAAAAABA/ny-UyuO1nsg/s320/miller.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obviously you can see where my week is heading.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-1076659082952906283?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1076659082952906283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/yes-its-only-tuesday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/1076659082952906283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/1076659082952906283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/yes-its-only-tuesday.html' title='Yes It&apos;s Only Tuesday...'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiWc6_GwVAI/AAAAAAAAABA/ny-UyuO1nsg/s72-c/miller.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5164611371493413410.post-3188097837627747325</id><published>2009-06-01T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T19:09:26.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go</title><content type='html'>I loved all of you&lt;br /&gt;Even when you didn't deserve it&lt;br /&gt;Why is that?&lt;br /&gt;You took pieces of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it hard to let go&lt;br /&gt;And stop loving you?&lt;br /&gt;I was good to you and&lt;br /&gt;Yet you pushed me away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here and sigh alone&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;I feel like it was all a waste&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was for us to be together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find an outlet&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to get past this place&lt;br /&gt;Get beyond the part where it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Somehow get rid of what's inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder when it will stop&lt;br /&gt;It seems like it will be forever&lt;br /&gt;I want to smile again&lt;br /&gt;Please God show me how to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have hope&lt;br /&gt;I want to have love&lt;br /&gt;I want to have peace&lt;br /&gt;I want to have joy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I'll get there&lt;br /&gt;Somehow it will all pass&lt;br /&gt;Sometime I'll look back&lt;br /&gt;And forget that I was ever here&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5164611371493413410-3188097837627747325?l=reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3188097837627747325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/letting-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/3188097837627747325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5164611371493413410/posts/default/3188097837627747325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflectiononmyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/letting-go.html' title='Letting Go'/><author><name>Time for Reflection</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03561984846185482116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8-3lwDuGodg/SiSQJnG2YBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_WrvsdbJnU/S220/blue.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
