<?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-30891936</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:43:44.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honestly?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-492758804767979263</id><published>2009-09-22T04:57:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T17:01:18.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This morning</title><content type='html'>Well, I can already tell that today is going to be such a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with a headache, and then, I had to take someone to school on short notice, and on top of everything else, I got into a fight with my best friend.  Not that she's really been my best friend these past few months, since she's too busy with her boyfriend and has turned into a sarcastic bitch 1/2 the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks.  I know I wasn't always the greatest friend, but I was there for her when she needed it, and had she just told me that she really wanted/needed to hang out with her, I would have.  But she didn't say anything, so I didn't.  That's not to say that I never hung out with her, I just didn't hang out with her that often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to this morning:&lt;br /&gt;We get to school at the same time.  Yesterday she was up at FSU visiting her brother, and she got back last night.  I have Flight Of The Lawnchair Man rehearsals today (much like every day, and I still can't get enough of it) and since she is my Assistant Stage Manager, and we are doing a run of the first act, I want her, my other ASM and the Lighting Designer and the Assistant Lighting Designer there.  I figured that after rehearsal we could maybe grab coffee, but she was going to be hanging out with her boyfriend.  No surprise there.  I was jokingly giving her a hard time (it's the only way that I can deal with her constant sarcasm).  She started complaining that I never saw her last year, and I told her that had she asked, I would have.  She said that she just decided to stay quite and be a 3rd wheel.  I told her that she didn't really have a right to complain then, because she always kept quite.  I was still joking, and even told her that I wasn't really that upset, and that I was kinda just joking with her.  She got pissed and said that she didn't like it because she feels like that's all I do.  If you're around me enough, most of the time I don't joke enough and I'm too serious, but apparently not to her.  I told her that I joke so much because I can't deal with her sarcasm all the time.  She said fine, and we just stopped talking.  I'm not sure we're going to be talking for a while.  I feel like I should apologize, but I don't at the same time because all I wanted was to see my best friend, who I never see and who I need, because I don't really have anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  That sucks, I don't have anyone else.  Well, I have one person, but it's not like he's there for me anymore, so I'm really alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I have some friends that I can talk to, but no one that I'm really close to, so I'm screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-492758804767979263?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/492758804767979263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=492758804767979263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/492758804767979263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/492758804767979263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-morning.html' title='This morning'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-4306337627815226625</id><published>2009-05-31T16:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T16:57:41.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>Everything is changing so fast and I'm so unsure of the future.  I'm unsure of how to feel about everything, and I wish that someone would just tell me what to do and that everything is going to be ok and MEAN it.  I understand that people don't know the future, but it would still be nice if someone know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is a scary thing, and the more and more I think about it, the more and more I don't want it to happen.  Although I thrive on change, I don't thive on other peoples change.  If anything, for the most part, I deny it.  I wish that things could stay the same, but it's time to face the music.  Things are going to change.  For better or for worse.  No matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-4306337627815226625?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4306337627815226625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=4306337627815226625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4306337627815226625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4306337627815226625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2009/05/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-4309136582700850434</id><published>2008-07-04T23:04:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T23:41:19.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 [Suwanee River]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Today wasn't so bad.  I got up around 9, had coffee [my aunt Missy made it, and damn, she makes good coffee] and got ready to go on the boat.  It's become kind of obvious that my parents don't really want me around.  They kicked me out of their cabin [that I was supposed to stay in] and they also didn't want me on the boat with them.  My aunt Missy and uncle Kevin brought their boat with them, and my parents were on it, and when Ashley and I went to see what was up with them, my parents and aunt and uncle didn't seem to want us around...ohwell.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Out on the river it was pretty nice.  We saw one alligator, which was cool, I guess, but I can see them in my backyard, so it's not that big a deal to me.  The boat trip was peaceful for the most part until my aunt Kimberly decided to tell me how to live my life.  She told me that I'm too smart to be an event planner, and that just made me annoyed.  Thankgod for Gary [my aunts boyfriend] though, he pretty much told her that it's more than what it seems and it would be a good thing for me to do.  He earned a lot of points with me for that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Since there are a lot of springs around here, my family decided that they wanted to go to one, so we went to one that you could access by boat.  It was called Fanny Springs, and damn was it cold.  I was only in the water for about 5 minutes before I decided to get out.  I always forget how cold the water is until I go to get in.  I suppose you could consider it refreshing if you've just run 10 miles or done something else that gets your really hot and sweaty, but when you've just been chilling out on a boat of a few hours, it's more cold then refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After the springs, we decided to begin to head back to the dock.  I tried the jet ski [for the 2nd time, the 1st was last summer in Ocala] and I did okay; the highest speed I hit was 40 because I was scared I was going to fall off.  Everyone else went fishing and while they started doing that, my uncle Jimmy said that he'd give $100 to the first person to catch a fish.  He's not known for keeping his word, so no one believed him, so when Gary caught the first fish, it wasn't a surprise when he didn't pay up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After fishing, things went downhill.  Now, normally, I don't get into debates, but sometimes my mouth just won't stop, and thats what happened.  My uncle is highly close minded and he doesn't like anything that doesn't fit into what he believes is normal.  He believes that the world is black and white, and I'm sorry, but the world has never, and will never be black and white.  I personally believe that's bullshit, and I felt the need to inform him of that.  I got really pissed off, and we argued about a lot of different things.  I sometimes don't understand how I'm related to the people in my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I made brownies when we got back, and while they were cooking, I hung out in my parents cabin while they sat outside on the porch.  Ashley, Shane and Forrest [Gary's son] were off somewhere getting drunk [and more for 2].  When I caught back up with them, Ashley was having a little bit of trouble walking, so dinner was interesting.  After that, we got to go shoot off fireworks and I used a Bic lighter for the first time in my life.  I also got to light mortars...  :].  There were a lot of fireworks going off; it was a pretty nice display of explosives.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;If you've never had a smore, then you need help.  Ashley has never had a smore until today.  Gary built a fire after the fireworks and we all sat around chilling out, making smores.  Well, Ashley, Forrest, my aunt Barbara and I that is.  Shane left to hang out with a friend that lives nearby and no one else wanted any.  They were too busy with their drinks.  After about 30 minutes, everyone decided to turn in but Ashley, Forrest and I.  He had to stay up and wait for Shane and Ashley just wasn't tired.  We hung out with him, and wow, he's nothing like what I thought he was going to be, which isn't a bad thing.  He's a pretty nice, and he's talkative once he opens up.  Shane got back a little before 2, which is when I decided that I needed to go to bed, and yet here I am, at 2:40 typing away.  I'm going to bed after this though, I'm tired.  So, I guess that's the end of day 1's adventure...nightnight.&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/30891936-4309136582700850434?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4309136582700850434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=4309136582700850434&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4309136582700850434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4309136582700850434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-2-suwanee-river.html' title='Day 2 [Suwanee River]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-6913352804286563848</id><published>2008-07-03T14:19:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T19:57:40.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 [Middle Of Nowhere] Take 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Well, the middle of nowhere is just that.  The middle of nowhere.  I ended up reading for the rest of the car ride, I finished a book and started a new one.  We stopped at Hardee's for lunch; surprisingly, Hardee's is pretty happening.  It's like the Panera of Hicktown.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whoo Hoo&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm surprised that we weren't killed.  Everyone stared at us when we were in there...it was a little odd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We drove for another hour [ish] and then ended up in our campsite.  I have no cell service, but we have wi fi.  The &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;big&lt;/span&gt; cabin is really nice and it's also the nicest cabin [not to mention largest] in the campsite.  The one that my parents are staying in is decent, but nothing like the big one.  My parents pretty much kicked me out of my own cabin, so I'm staying in the big one.  My aunt Barbara and Uncle Jimmy get one bedroom [with the full/queen bed], Ashley and I get the other bedroom with the 2 twin beds and my aunt Missy and uncle Kevin get the pullout couch in the living room, which has the t.v.  From what I've been told though, sleeping arrangements are &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;subject to change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;When we got settled, Ashley and I got out our &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;laptops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to see if we could get wi-fi, which we did.  There was some &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shrieking&lt;/span&gt; involved with that discovery.  We were almost as excited as the adults were about drinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My aunt Missy and uncle Kevin got here around 6ish, and my aunt Kimberly, my cousin shane, her boyfriend and his son have yet to arrive, and I'm tired as hell.  It's been a very         l     o     n     g     day.  All the adults started drinking right away and by now they're all drunk.  I've been held up in the bedroom the whole night with my wonderful &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MACBOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and wi-fi.  I know that seems like a shitty way to spend vacation, but we're going out on the boat tomorrow and the only other thing to do here is go to the pool, which doesn't get me all that excited, so &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;MACBOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; it is.  [Not a word &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Patrick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Timmy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;)].  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Right now, I'm considering going to bed, but I'm not sure yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There was a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;moth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in our room [and plenty of other more interesting creatures outside] and Ashley was freaking out.  It was really really funny to me.  She was walking/running around the room trying to get it.  She finally got it, and she was very entertaining.  I was laughing very &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hard&lt;/span&gt;, which isn't good because of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;quite time&lt;/span&gt;.  You have to be quite from 10 to 6...I don't know how well that's going to go with my family, so I guess we'll see.  Everyone's out walking right now, which is better than driving thats for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;nightnight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-6913352804286563848?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/6913352804286563848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=6913352804286563848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6913352804286563848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6913352804286563848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-1-middle-of-nowhere-take-2.html' title='Day 1 [Middle Of Nowhere] Take 2'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-5371846873834158021</id><published>2008-07-03T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:09:27.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 [Middle Of Nowhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in"&gt;So I’m sitting in the car, listening to my iPod while my mom asks my dad trivia questions.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s day one of the trip to the middle of nowhere, otherwise known as the Suwannee River.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s going to be a long few days.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t have much battery power at the moment because I forgot to charge my laptop last night, but that’s ok.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s 11:11.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Shit.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I missed it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On the plus side, I got fireworks and my dad said that I can light them. :].&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can also ride my bike with no handlebars.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As much as I love that song, it’s become over played; I hate that.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s playing on my iPod right now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s a wicked good song, and it never fails to make me smile, especially when I think about the night that I was at the bowling alley and it started playing and the guy that worked there.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He started dancing too it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It still makes me giggle a little thinking about it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I have 20 minutes left on my battery.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This kind of sucks, but still, everybody’s gonna love today, love today, love today.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;:].&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Now I have 16 minutes.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was fixing something in iCal.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love my MACBOOK.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;[That’s for loserfaces that don’t like Macs, and then use mine.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You two know who you are.]&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Move to the left, to the left, mmmmmm.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I find it very funny how I just keep typing song lyrics.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I highly doubt this will be the only time I write today, I’ll most likely write tonight before I go to bed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For this trip, I have a feeling that writing=sanity.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Don’t get me wrong, I like insanity as much as the next person [well, the people that I hang out with], but there’s a good insanity and multiple bad forms insanity; the one I’m trying to prevent is a bad insanity.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ll find someway to survive.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as I thought, but who knows. Cross your fingers. YEAHH!!! [Another song].&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I decided to chill. Opps, 12 minutes left.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m also hungry….but I gotta keep it real now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to ride my bicycleeeeeeeeeee.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just kept hitting the L and the A.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Boredom is inevitable.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yippie.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am now running on reserve power.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I need to stop typing.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stop.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I mean it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ok, I’m done. Honestly. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-5371846873834158021?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/5371846873834158021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=5371846873834158021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/5371846873834158021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/5371846873834158021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-1-middle-of-nowhere.html' title='Day 1 [Middle Of Nowhere'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-4511398816047060599</id><published>2008-07-02T17:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:05:09.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaniepants</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So right now I'm sitting at Patrick's [there, I'm talking about you] house.  He's being a meaniepants; I'm in the process of updating my blog, and he's being a loser about it.  Ohwell.  I'm putting off packing for my nightmare of a family trip to the middle of nowhere.  I'm also hungry.  Patrick's still a meaniepants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;fin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-4511398816047060599?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4511398816047060599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=4511398816047060599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4511398816047060599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4511398816047060599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2008/07/meaniepants.html' title='Meaniepants'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-7036841106596814538</id><published>2007-11-14T18:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T13:39:37.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate</title><content type='html'>so I've made a mental list of things that make me upset/mad/frustrated:&lt;br /&gt;the word perfect&lt;br /&gt;Expectations&lt;br /&gt;judgemental people.&lt;br /&gt;people that assume they know whats going on in your life, and what you will or will not like, even though they know shit about you&lt;br /&gt;the fact that I say sorry for everything&lt;br /&gt;the fact that I sometimes don't think I'm strong enough to handle things on my own&lt;br /&gt;the fact that I someone to actually see me&lt;br /&gt;the fact that people dont normally understand what I'm trying to tell them&lt;br /&gt;people that shove their opinions down your throat&lt;br /&gt;people that tell you how to live your life&lt;br /&gt;people that don't understand and get it&lt;br /&gt;[theres more, but I'm just gonna stop here]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-7036841106596814538?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7036841106596814538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=7036841106596814538&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/7036841106596814538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/7036841106596814538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/11/hate.html' title='Hate'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-8575172925603866766</id><published>2007-06-27T20:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:05:21.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 [Horse Cave, KY]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;'Sup? [Heyy was getting boring.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm sitting in the lobby of the nicest hotel we've stayed at so far.  A Hampton inn.  It beats the Days Inn in Perry, the Motel 6 and the other motels that we've stayed in along the way.  I'm drinking watered down decaf coffee, and writing this letter because the wireless Internet doesn't reach up to our room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's on the third floor and the elevator is broken.  It was fun lugging all of our stuff up the stairs, although I highly doubt that three flights of stairs compare to the Great Wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So last night, we stayed near Huntsville, right outside of it actually.  Huntsville is home to one of the NASA space and rocket centers.  We spent part of the day there, and it was AMAZING!  I had been too the one in Florida [Cape Canaveral] when I was little, but I don't really remember anything about it.  There was a museum there [I won't tell you about it.  I think I was enough of a teacher in the last e-mail] and they also had a few rides there.  We watched an IMAX about airplanes, and I've decided that I want to learn how to fly.  It was amazing to see how planes moved like a bird without moving there wings.  They talked about flying shows, where they do tricks, and although it looks easy, it isn't.  It's actually really hard to preform all of those tricks because of the G-Forces and other things.  And when they do the formations, there are A LOT of minor adjustments that have to be made to make it look right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we spent part of the day at the space center, we drove on to find a Friday's.  There isn't one in Sarasota, and it's really good.  I had found one online last night, but we decided not to go to it, but this afternoon, we figured we would.  We went in the general direction to find the restaurant, and after a while of driving, we found it.  It was worth the drive.  I even booked our room online while we were there.  Is there a public place WITHOUT WiFi?  It never seizes to amaze me how many places have WiFi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we ate, we got back on the road and drove for a while.  My mom figured that there was only one restaurant that we haven't gone to.  Dairy Queen.  My dad was thinking that it sounded good, so we decided that we would stop if we came across one.  We did, but my mom read the sign wrong and we got off at the wrong exit and drove for a little bit, until we figured that it wouldn't be too far from the interstate.  It turns out that it was the NEXT exit that had the Dairy Queen.  We stopped and got ice cream, and then hit the road again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My mom needed to stop at Walgreen's and we need gas, so we got off a while later, after battling the Nashville rush hour and accident avoidance traffic.  [there was an accident during rush hour on the highway, so we took a HIGHLY confusing detour.]  We went there and then a local chain grocery store called Krugers.  It was like a Publix or Albertsons or Winn Dixie or [you get the picture]. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We didn't stop for too long [for once] and then we hit the road again.  We finally got to our hotel exit [I think Elizabethtown is nearby-for those of you who have seen the movie and our a fan] but before we could get to our hotel, we had to stop and get brochures about what to do in Kentucky.  Apparently the Chamber of Commerce here is a bit more on top of getting brochures out to the general public. [longgg story] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Apparently, there are quite a few caves in good 'Ole Kentucky.  I have a feeling we'll be going to a lot of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we checked in, my parents went into the town to do laundry, but it was closed.  We were laughing because in the dumpy hotels, they had washing and drying machines and mini fridges as well as microwaves in the room, but the Hampton Inn doesn't.  What they do have are comfy beds and a nice hotel room.  I'll take that over a POS hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well, I'm tired, like I am every night, and I'm gonna head back up to the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;nightnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;e-mail me back.  I wanna hear from you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;text me too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Micah&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/30891936-8575172925603866766?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/8575172925603866766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=8575172925603866766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/8575172925603866766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/8575172925603866766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-5-horse-cave-ky.html' title='Day 5 [Horse Cave, KY]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-8638176846091812917</id><published>2007-06-27T11:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:05:29.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 [Madison, AL-Right outside Huntsville-pop quiz: What's in Huntsville?]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Heyy everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What’s going on? I’m typing this letter tonight, but the internet is being lameee and it’s not letting me connect so you all are getting this a day late. Sorry about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today was pretty cool. We got a wakeup call at 6, but me being me, I don’t get up until an hour later. Yeah. I’m pretty cool. We went to this run down old place for breakfast, but it was possibly one of the greatest breakfasts that I have ever had. After breakfast, we went to this place called Desoto Caverns, which is an active cave and it also have a few attractions. [Yes, I realize that I said that we were going to head up to Mammoth Caves, but we’re going slowly. As my dad says, it’s the journey that matters, not the destination.] It was privately owned and REALLY nice. We got there right after it opened and we were in the first tour that went in the cave. It was only me, my mom, my dad and this mom [or grandma] with 4 kids. The cavern was AMAZING. There were a lot of formations, and at one point, it was an Indian burial ground, it was sacred, it was used in the civil war to make gun powder, and the one that made us all laugh [well, the ones old enough to get it] was that during the prohibition of alcohol, it was used to make moonshine, but since the entrance to the cave was 40 feet steep, they couldn’t get the moonshine out of the cave, so they decided that since they couldn’t bring the moonshine to the people, the decided that they would bring the people to the moonshine. Yes. They made a cave into a tavern. Granted it only lasted about 6 weeks, and it destroyed some of the stalagmites, but you have to give them credit. It’s pretty inventive. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we did that, we drove for a little bit and tried to find brochures. We couldn’t seem to find ANY. It was really weird. My mom was looking at a map and found this place called Cathedral Caverns, but we couldn’t find any advertisement for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anecdote: While we [meaning my dad] were driving [dad=behind the wheel, me=shotgun + mom=backseat, yes, I have shotgun. =)] my mom was looking for her peanuts, and she asked me if they were in the front seat, but instead of saying peanuts, the conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mom: Micah,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: Yes, mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mom: Are my penis—I mean peanuts up there? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: [laughing] No, mom. Your penises aren’t up here. Do you see them dad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dad: Why no Micah, I don’t see her penises anywhere, although I wasn’t aware she had one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: Neither was I. Is there something you should tell us mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mom: No honey, there is nothing I have to tell you other then the fact that I can’t find my &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;peanuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We made fun of my mom for the rest of the day. Most likely it will be a trip thing. =] Mwhahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We decided to stop at subway for lunch and figure out a game plan. We planned to keep driving toward the Cathedral Caverns banking on seeing advertisement or signs and following them. We did that, and we kept driving until we found small government signs telling us where to go. We drove through this small town to get to the caverns called Grant. It was home of the DAR [Daughters of the American Revolution] school. I don’t know that much about it, but I’m planning on researching it when I can get internet access.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When we got to the Caverns, we got there at 3:45, just in time, [really 15 minutes early] for the last tour. We [me, my mom and my dad] discovered that the first and last tours are the best, because those are the smallest. It was only us and the tour guide. Since we were not only a small group, but we were the last group, our tour guide took us on a golf cart in the cave instead of walking. It was nice, since the cave was big as well as active. In caves, you’re perception of things is different. Things that seem close to you are actually far apart. The reason for that is because you have nothing to compare it with when you’re in a cave underground. The cavern was AMAZING! I learned too much about it to tell you all about it, but it holds 4 world records. The largest cave entrance is the only one I remember clearly. I was way too fascinated. You should Google it or something and read about it. Look at pictures too, although I highly doubt it’ll do it justice. It’s like the great wall. It’s hard to experience it by just looking at pictures. You have to really be there to understand how amazing it is. Our tour guide was a fan of Zoolander, so we had some fun quoting the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oh, one more thing about caves. There are only three places in the universe that you can experience total darkness and that is 1. Space; 2. The ocean [deep, like challenger deep, (that’s the deepest point in the ocean, for those of you that don’t know)] and 3. Caves. Being in total darkness is scary. If you stay like that for longer than 2 weeks, you’ll go blind. It’s weird. It feels like you’re totally and completely alone. It’s a neat experience, but I don’t recommend seeing the movie The Descent. It made me a little frightened to be in total darkness. It was really neat too, because in the total darkness in the second cave, we got to yell as loud as we could and hear it echo though three rooms, all of which were huge. That was really good, because I got to let out a lot of pent up emotions without telling anyone. It felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we did that, we drove onto Huntsville where I saw the NASA space center, which we will be visiting tomorrow. =] I’m happy about that. Space is really fascinating. [I just realized how dorky and geeky I sound. I’m e-mailing you all about caves and the space center and how cool it all is] but that’s ok. I love it. When I was in elementary school and we were living in my old house [yay Seville!] I got a book from the school library and I kept checking it out. I think I had it out for over a month. At one point, when I first checked out the book, I wanted to stay up all night looking at the stars. I had a towel out and was all set up, and I was out there at 9 at night in the driveway and after a little bit [my mom was in the garage] my mom told me that I had to go in. I was disappointed, but I went inside. And then, when we had the open house out in Oak Ford. A few of my friends and I sat outside at night and just looked up at the stars. That’s one of the reasons why I love living in the middle of nowhere. Whenever I’m in town and I only see 2 to 5 stars, I always say “That’s why I love living out in the country. You can actually see the stars.” It’s funny too, because a lot of you will hear me complaining about how far out I live, which is why I’m over at my aunts a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We’ll, I’ve typed a lot tonight. Wow. I’m tired, so I’m gonna go to bed and e-mail this is in the morning or tomorrow night. I don’t guarantee that it’s going to be colorful though. I don’t think I’m gonna be on for long. [I’m typing this in Microsoft Word right now] But within the next few e-mail’s one will be colorful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Micah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-8638176846091812917?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/8638176846091812917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=8638176846091812917&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/8638176846091812917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/8638176846091812917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-4-madison-al-right-outside.html' title='Day 4 [Madison, AL-Right outside Huntsville-pop quiz: What&apos;s in Huntsville?]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-7308699098963219288</id><published>2007-06-25T19:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:05:36.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 [Childersburg, AL]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Heyy there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So today was pretty interesting.  We ate breakfast at the hotel, where I spilled ketchup on me, not once, but twice.  Smooth eh?  Add that to the wing sauce that I spilled yesterday.  It's like when I was little and my parents had to strip me naked whenever I was gonna have ice cream or chocolate.  I think we have a picture of me when I was little.  I was naked and eating a HUGE chocolate kiss.  I was a pretty funny kid.  Eating chocolate naked [not by my own choice] having underwear on my head, getting married.  =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We stopped in a town named Opp in Alabama where we got coffee at Burger King.  It was an odd named town, but of well, it was pretty intesting.  It gave us something to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When we were packing up to leave DeFuniak Springs [I spelled it wrong yesterday.  Sorry about that.] my parents noticed that there was a leak in our cooler where you drain it.  My parents needed to put something in it, so they used a tampon.  Pretty smart huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After we got a little far from DeFuniak Springs, my dad let me drive.  It was a little scary driving on all those hills with the sharp turns.  I got nervous, because I'm not used to driving in this kind of terrain, so I pulled over at the next gas station, and my dad.  I didn't drive the rest of the day.  I may later, but I'm gonna take it a little bit at a time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We went to Montgomery, where we stopped at an Old Navy and went shopping.  My mom had $25 voucher that was going to go bad in two days, so we went shopping.  My dad stayed in the car.  We were in there for a little over an hour.  Me and my mom aren't fast shoppers.  Although we went pretty fast for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We stopped at Hooters for lunch.  It was apparently new, but it didn't look it.  Pretty much everything we did today was the same thing that we could have done in Sarasota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We also stopped at a Super Wal-Mart to get a plug or something for the cooler.  We found a fishing bobber thingy.  Pretty redneck of us, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yes, I'm running out of things to talk about.  Today was pretty slow, we didn't travel much.  I'm at the Key West [yay for Florida.  Do you all know anyone that lives in Florida? =)] Inn.  The lady that checked us in lived in North Port a few years ago.  Small world.  [Sorry if I just got that song stuck in your head]  I went swimming earlier.  And we went to a local restaurant for dinner.  It was pretty good.  Now, I'm sitting on my bed, tired, wanting to go to bed, trying to finish this e-mail.  I don't really feel like making this e-mail, but tomorrow's e-mail will be nice.  I promise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Were going to go the Desoto Caves tomorrow, which is cool because I LOVE caves.  =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'll tell you about it tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Micah&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/30891936-7308699098963219288?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7308699098963219288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=7308699098963219288&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/7308699098963219288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/7308699098963219288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-3-childersburg-al.html' title='Day 3 [Childersburg, AL]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-6658410277196969119</id><published>2007-06-24T19:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:05:46.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 [Defuniak Springs]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hey y'all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm in LA [which is northern Florida, LA stands for Lower Alabama]  Everyone here has southern accents.  If I'm around them long enough, I may pick up a slight southern accent, which I have been known to do since I was little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I drove on the coast today, it was a little scary, because I was so close to the water, but at the same time it was beautiful.  I wish that I could live in a little house by the sea.  It's so pretty and peaceful there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We went to Wakulla Springs, which is a government run state park.  They've shot movies around there because it the water is so clear.  The Creature From the Black Lagoon was shot there, which was pretty cool.  I lost count of how many alligators that I saw, but then again, If I wanna see alligators, I just have to walk out back too the lake.  Our tour guide was so funny.  His name was Luke and he liked that mullet. His two front teeth were missing, and he used it to his advantage.  It was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For lunch, we stopped at this Oyster place in Appalachia [sp???].  It was called Boss Oysters, but since I don't really like seafood at all, I didn't get any.  My mom on the other had kept ordering more and more food.  It's funny.  She says that we're going to eat healthy, and then there she is, ordering 4 different kinds of Oyserts [3 of each, it was a spampler dish]  cheese grits [It's a southern thing...hell yeah!] and me and my dad kept making fun of her.  It was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We stopped at an Ice Cream place in Mexico Beach, that was reallyyyy good, and then we drove all the way to Panama City Beach.  On the way there we passed a gas station that was called:  Mr. Cheap Butts, which got me and my dad laughing.  I got a few pictures of it, so I'll post them when I get home. We thought that we would spend the night in Panama City Beach, but it was way to busy.  We decided to go to another town, but, my parents being great travelers, we didn't bring a map with us, so we didn't really know where we were headed.  We drove around for a while in Panama City Beach, trying to find a Panera [Ashley] or a Starbucks.  Somewhere that had Internet access, and we found a Panera Bread and a Target with a Starbucks in it.  We didn't go to Panera, but we went into Target and my parents stood in the aisle for about 15ish minutes [are any of you aware of the Florida "ish"? It means a general time.  With a max. of 30 minute different either way, and on special occasion, an hour.] trying to figure out which atlas to buy.  It was rather funny. I just walked away and looked that the movies, and SURPRISE, books. =]]  When we got to the check out counter, we had a cute checkout guy and my mom bought and Oprah mag. and me and my dad were laughing at her, and the checkout guy was flirting.  It was funny.  My dad intervined though, I don't think he liked the idea that a guy 2-3 years older than me was flirting.  I was almost jailbait.  If he doesn't like that, I highly doubt he'd like the fact that an almost 18-year-old asked me out!  EWWWWWWW!  I still want to throw up at the thought of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A while down the road, we stopped at a Subway and my parents didn't want to go in, so I went in alone to order for all of us.  Now, in Sarasota, [and the suronding areas] I don't mind going into a place alone, but in a strange city, I'm not in a hurry to do that.  I went in and [yes...lets establish this, all the guys that I mention in this letter, I am jailbait to them.]  and the guy was flirting with me, almost hitting on me. And, yes, I had a conversation, but I don't really flirt with guys [unless you count that time in Sweetbay=Lesa, and yes, I'm cracking up right now! ]  He was creepy, and really religious.  Not really that fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, I'm done with talking about guys.  It's odd though, this stuff didn't use to happen to me, and now it seems like it happens a lot.  But whatever, I can't seem to find a happy medium.  grrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So now, I'm at a Best Western, in Defuniak Springs.  Which is god knows where...I went swimming earlier, and there were these little kids that couldn't find there goggles.  I helped them, and then it was like, "lets impress the big kid".  It was cute.  It was a little annoying though.  It was really funny, becuase I guess someone in there family had gone to McDonalds to get them food and apparently they had been gone a while, and the little girl [who was 8] said " What are they doin'? Cheaten' on some girls?"  And my mom got this really shocked look on her face, and I started CRACKING up! It was great.   I'm tired now, I stayed up really late last night, and we did a lot more than yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tomorrow, were going to head up to Kentucky to go to Mammoth Caves.&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/30891936-6658410277196969119?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/6658410277196969119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=6658410277196969119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6658410277196969119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6658410277196969119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-2-defuniak-springs.html' title='Day 2 [Defuniak Springs]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-1241571398310413760</id><published>2007-06-23T18:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:04:09.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 [Perry, Florida]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Heyy everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm at a Days Inn in Perry, Florida right now.  Apparently this town is pretty damn busy, which is suprising because it's really small and almost a hick town...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;funn funn.  I drove most of the day, which was pretty boring because it was just a long strech of road [we didn't take the interstate, we took US 19, which has a ton of small towns like Old Town, Otter Creek, and a bunch of other REALLYYYY small towns.]  And haven't accomplished anything on the list.  Rayna: Instead of getting a rock from Perry, I'm gonna get a wood chip because that's what Perry is known for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Zoolander is on right now, which is an AMAZING movie!  It makes me and my dad laugh a lot.  We were doing the " black lung" impression all through dinner.  ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPICHINOS! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ok, I'm done with the Zoolander jargon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mostly today was a very uneventful day, other than passing a few hott redneck boys in the car.  Getting away from Sarasota is pretty nice.  I love the city and all, it's just nice to get out of there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We may go white water rafting, which is always cool.  It's fun.  And now, I'm running out of things to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If any of you have anymore ideas of things for me to accomplish, e-mail me them PLEASE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;AHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I just saw the berries and cream comercial for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Berries and Cream, berries and cream, I'm the little lad that likes berries and cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;ok then...I've been stuck in the car for too long.  E-mail me back,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;call my cell [232-4382]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;and text me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;do all three if you really wanna make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;and e-mail this to anyone's e-mail that I may not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[Grace, that was too you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;and anyone else]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Micah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;P.S.  This is how much free time I have.  Damnnn I'm bored!&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/30891936-1241571398310413760?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1241571398310413760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=1241571398310413760&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/1241571398310413760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/1241571398310413760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-1-perry-florida.html' title='Day 1 [Perry, Florida]'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-3564529168454570598</id><published>2007-06-10T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T13:41:02.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>Someone broke my heart last Tuesday, and it still hurts like hell.&lt;br /&gt;My life feels empty right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I don't belong anywhere and no one would notice if I fell off the face of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends don't feel like my friends and the only person that I could talk to and would help me make sense of all this is the one that broke my heart...&lt;br /&gt;and lied to me.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize how much I depended on him.&lt;br /&gt;I was determined not to get attached and rely too much on him,&lt;br /&gt;and I was doing good,&lt;br /&gt;until I actually believed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now I realize that I was right all along.&lt;br /&gt;I can't rely on anyone no matter how much they tell me I can.&lt;br /&gt;It's too hard,&lt;br /&gt;and they'll just end up hurting me in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being let down,&lt;br /&gt;lied too,&lt;br /&gt;back stabbed,&lt;br /&gt;broken hearted,&lt;br /&gt;having a broken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spirit&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to get the hell away from everything and everyone one.&lt;br /&gt;but that's not good either.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm afraid to be alone with myself right now.&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid of my thoughts and what I'll turn into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to Carol and Gloria's fathers day to spend it with them in memory of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Carl&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;If I never go to a funeral again,&lt;br /&gt;it'll be too soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somebody has to help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-3564529168454570598?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3564529168454570598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=3564529168454570598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/3564529168454570598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/3564529168454570598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-5075287246087714778</id><published>2007-03-15T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T10:25:05.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lockdown</title><content type='html'>Those of you that attend Booker High School know about the hoopla today.  There is a protest going on outside school because our principal is being reassigned.  There are over 100 kids that out there portesting plus a few that are protesting the protest going on.  The people protesting Dorsett's leave don't have all the facts [come to think of it, neither do we] so the students protesting are protesting without all the facts and then Putnam [ewwwww!] came on the PA and told everyone that we were on lockdown...which means that I am now stuck in 3rd period with nothing to do.  Hey, at least I got out of math.  YAY!  I'm gonna go and check my e-mail and see if I can find a new layout or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-5075287246087714778?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/5075287246087714778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=5075287246087714778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/5075287246087714778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/5075287246087714778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/03/lockdown.html' title='Lockdown'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-6295263701542330717</id><published>2007-03-09T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:07:22.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends</title><content type='html'>I have the most AMAZING friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They&lt;br /&gt;[Natalie &amp; Grace]&lt;br /&gt;planned a suprise party for me and kept it from me for 2 whole weeks.&lt;br /&gt;In theatre, thats pretty damn amazing.&lt;br /&gt;There were a few slip ups, but I am WAYY to caught up in my own world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still at Natalie's,&lt;br /&gt;and I have CYD in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;but at the moment,&lt;br /&gt;that doesn't seem to matter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;&amp;amp;,&lt;br /&gt;my birthday is Monday.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be 15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-6295263701542330717?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/6295263701542330717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=6295263701542330717&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6295263701542330717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/6295263701542330717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-friends.html' title='My Friends'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-2899017778703907844</id><published>2007-03-07T16:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T17:13:57.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>I was walking home from school today and as I got closer to my house I started think about last year. &lt;br /&gt;This time last year, things in my life wern't going too well.  My dad had gotten out of rehab and tension covered my family like a thick blanket in winter.  I didn't think that I was going to have a birthday party since everything was still messed up, but my mom threw me a suprise birthday party.  I had a blast, and though a few things went wrong [which was too be expected]  but all in all, things went well.&lt;br /&gt;I've changed as a person since last year as well.  I don't pretend to be something that I'm not, I don't live up to anyones expectations other than my own [most of the time, I'm still trying to work on that]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more later, my computer is about to die, and I'm at a seminar using wireless internet...&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-2899017778703907844?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/2899017778703907844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=2899017778703907844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/2899017778703907844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/2899017778703907844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/03/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-314924972383725424</id><published>2007-03-01T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T13:06:13.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[thats a quote from Dirty Dancing]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;    I found out today that I'm a really good liar to people that don't know me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;REALLY&lt;/span&gt; well.  We played a game in theatre and almost everyone thought that I was telling the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.&lt;br /&gt;=]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fin-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-314924972383725424?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/314924972383725424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=314924972383725424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/314924972383725424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/314924972383725424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/03/me-im-scared-of-everything.html' title=''/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-4152685807131372814</id><published>2007-01-14T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T09:33:37.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disapointment and Failure</title><content type='html'>I've come to a conclusion.  If life, we forget the &lt;strong&gt;pain&lt;/strong&gt;.  We lose the feeling.  Sure, you still have a sting, 1/16 of the original pain, but you don't have it anymore.  Just like our bodies, our mind forgets pain.&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;hardest&lt;/strong&gt; feeling that we try to avoid, we spend our lives trying to get away from, is &lt;em&gt;disapointment&lt;/em&gt;.  Then, when we are unable to elude ourselves from it, we become disapointed.  It's a &lt;strong&gt;never ending&lt;/strong&gt; cycle.  That feeling of disapointment goes father, &lt;em&gt;reachers&lt;/em&gt; father into our soul and heart than pain or loss.  It's something that even laughter, something that can heal just about anything can't&lt;em&gt; completely&lt;/em&gt; heal.  The only thing that can heal disapointment is time.  We can't avoid it, it's apart of living.  But look at it this way, it means you tried.  If yout &lt;strong&gt;truly &lt;/strong&gt;disapointed, it means that you did try. &lt;br /&gt;Just like theres no such thing as failure.  If you fail, it means you tried, and &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is something.  If you've never failed or been disapointed, it means you've never tried.  So go and try.  Don't be afraid to fail.  Because your not really failing, your trying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-4152685807131372814?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4152685807131372814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=4152685807131372814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4152685807131372814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/4152685807131372814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/01/disapointment-and-failure.html' title='Disapointment and Failure'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-116875013563701408</id><published>2007-01-13T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T20:48:55.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Cleaning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I cleaned my room today.&lt;br /&gt;So I figured I would clean up my&lt;br /&gt;blog as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post &lt;strong&gt;more&lt;/strong&gt; later&lt;br /&gt;kk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Movies You &lt;em&gt;Must&lt;/em&gt; See:&lt;br /&gt;1. The Princess Bride&lt;br /&gt;2. Mrs. Palfrey at the Clarmont&lt;br /&gt;3. V for Vendetta&lt;br /&gt;4. Little Miss Sunshine&lt;br /&gt;5. Garden State&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-116875013563701408?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/116875013563701408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=116875013563701408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/116875013563701408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/116875013563701408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2007/01/spring-cleaning.html' title='Spring Cleaning'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-115508476697194464</id><published>2006-08-08T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T17:52:47.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Booker High School</title><content type='html'>I know, I have been really bad about updating, but then again, I have someone to talk to that talks back, so I don't need to vent here that often, which is a good thing!  I started high school yesterday.  I got up at 5, and got ready.  The bus picks me up at 6, and I get to school about an hour and 15 minutes later.  It is a new experience for me.  VPA is fun, I like me teachers, but I don't think I fit in that well.  I pale in comparrison to some of the kids in my theatre classes.  They all seem a little like clones running around.  It freaks me out a little to tell you the truth.  Randi says that SCS is a lot different now, so I'll take her word for it!  One of Vada's friends that goes to BHS, is someone that I met on Mon.  So I hung out with her and Ali during lunch yesterday.  Today, I couldn't find her, so I went with the other girl.  I'm not saying her name, in case you didn't notice.  Anyway, as it turns out, she smokes, I don't know what, but I do know that I'm not hanging out with her anymore.  I may not be tempted right now, but who knows, sometime in the future I may be.  My choice: Remove the Temptation before you become tempted.  I need to go, I'm tired, and I get to wake up early again!  Yay me.  I'll try and update soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fin-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-115508476697194464?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/115508476697194464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=115508476697194464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115508476697194464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115508476697194464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2006/08/booker-high-school.html' title='Booker High School'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-115307662689908528</id><published>2006-07-16T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T12:24:22.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AN AMAZING SONG!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Hope dangles on a string&lt;br /&gt;Like slow spinning redemption&lt;br /&gt;Winding in and winding out&lt;br /&gt;The shine of it has caught my eye&lt;br /&gt;And roped me in&lt;br /&gt;So, mesmerizing&lt;br /&gt;and so hypnotizing,&lt;br /&gt;I am captivated,&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;{Chorus}&lt;br /&gt;Vindicated&lt;br /&gt;I am selfish&lt;br /&gt;I am wrong&lt;br /&gt;I am right&lt;br /&gt;I swear I'm right&lt;br /&gt;Swear I knew it all along&lt;br /&gt;And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well&lt;br /&gt;I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So clear&lt;br /&gt;Like the diamond in your ear&lt;br /&gt;Cut to mirror your intention&lt;br /&gt;Oversized and overwhelmed&lt;br /&gt;The shine of which has caught my eye&lt;br /&gt;And rendered me&lt;br /&gt;So isolated,and so motivated&lt;br /&gt;I am certain now that I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Chorus}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So turnup the corners of your lips&lt;br /&gt;Part them and feel my finger tips&lt;br /&gt;Trace the moment, fall forever&lt;br /&gt;Defense is paper thin&lt;br /&gt;Just one touch and I'll be in&lt;br /&gt;Too deep now to ever swim against the current&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip against the current&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;So let me slip away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Chorus}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like hopedangles on a string&lt;br /&gt;Like slow spinning redemption...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-115307662689908528?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/115307662689908528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=115307662689908528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115307662689908528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115307662689908528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2006/07/amazing-song.html' title='AN AMAZING SONG!!!!!'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-115292308597650762</id><published>2006-07-14T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T18:31:18.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Addictions</title><content type='html'>Ok...so I stopped at how hetic my life seems to be. Each day, as these things go on, I see myself being more like my mom with something things and not doing them till the VERY last minute. Like, getting in the shower 5 minutes before I'm supposed to walk out the door, or not doing my projects until the night before. At the same time, I see my dad in me becasue I want to get things done SO fast, that it seems like I'll die waiting for them to happen. I've been in a pretty bad mood today, I think becasue I stayed up late last night and I was woken up by my alarm clock on my phone at 6:30 this morning. Last night, at like 11:00 me and Leo, my cuz went to the beach. There wasn't anyone there and we just walked along it. I think that I was really tired and intoxciated by the ocean that I started to act a little drunk. I was fighting with him about how scw\rewed up our generation is, but thats a WHOLE other post. Anyway, after a while I started to head toward the pool away from the beach and we hung out by the pool with our feet in. I started ranting on about Kyle and how mad I was (which, I'm mad at myself for, because he's such a jerk that he doesn't even deserve my time even thinking about him) and he told me something that Rayna had told me, (albit, it was a little different but...whoes keeping track?) He said that I had to take the chance (BS!) And that the first girl that he liked, didn't, but then about 2 weeks later, she told him that she liked her. Rayna said that he was suprised that someone liked him, and when I told Leo that, he agreed. &lt;em&gt;Dr. Leo&lt;/em&gt; said that "He had liked me and thet when I told him that I liked him, he was suprised that I felt that same way" Personally, I think that's a load of BS, but whatever. I don't even like him anymore...I guess when someone treats me the way that they did, they arn't worthy of my time. But then again, I have an addictive personality, (look at my mom and her side of the family for evidence) so maybe, I like guys that push me away and treat me like the gum on their shoe...nah.  I hope not, but that's what the evidence seems to be telling me. Pray to God that it isn't the case, and If it is, it would be nice if they had a program like AA for it. Well, I need to go. I have about 30 minutes to kill before I have to meet my mom, and I'm only allowed on the computer for 15 minutes, (which I've been on for 25 minutes! Shame on me) So...I need to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fin-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-115292308597650762?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/115292308597650762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=115292308597650762&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115292308597650762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115292308597650762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2006/07/addictions.html' title='Addictions'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30891936.post-115283645149237240</id><published>2006-07-13T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T18:31:54.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Destiny</title><content type='html'>I've come to a conclusion...we are destined to be like our parents. We can try, and try, and try to keep ourselves from becomming like them, but the end result is that we end up like them, no matter what. I, everyday, see my parents in me. The good and the bad. There is so much crap going on in my life now, my dad's aftermath of the stroke, my mom, dealing with 2 major struggles in her lfe (one of them, I may very well get, considering the fact that it runs in the family) going into high school and about a million different things. I need to go, becasue were in Clearwater, and my mom called me and wanted me to go to dinner...yay? So, I'll finish my thoughts later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fin-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30891936-115283645149237240?l=epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/feeds/115283645149237240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30891936&amp;postID=115283645149237240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115283645149237240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30891936/posts/default/115283645149237240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epitomeofmylife.blogspot.com/2006/07/destiny.html' title='Destiny'/><author><name>Micah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09610183948437749441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
