<?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-3952726</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:34:03.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coldfish</title><subtitle type='html'>a moment has two moments</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</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>169</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-105707209962465588</id><published>2003-07-01T11:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-01T11:08:19.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Dear I fear we're facing a problem&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now 2nd in Outburst (trivia game where you have to be quick to type). Wooo. I spent most of yesterday going shopping, from 2 to 6:30 pm...and what did I get? One hoodie, one pair of pants and one short. What the hell. I can't survive summer with only that. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-105707209962465588?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/105707209962465588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/105707209962465588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105707209962465588' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-105673303357802739</id><published>2003-06-27T12:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-27T12:57:13.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spent most of yesterday playing Outburst. So far I'm only 4th, soon I shall overthrow that bastard! Hahahahahahahahahaha. He thinks he's so fucking smart, jerk. Well. He IS, but...he thinks too highly of himself.  What a loser. I'm sorry...but he really does piss me off. I wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror. He probably thinks he's god's gift to humankind and he's gracing us with his presence. That fucker. Hahaha. The only reason why girls even talk to him is because they pity him...and he mistakes that for liking. &lt;br /&gt;"Oh! That girl looked at me...she must like me."&lt;br /&gt;Erm. I feel sorry for his mom and sister...having to live with him and all. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-105673303357802739?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/105673303357802739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/105673303357802739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105673303357802739' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95999761</id><published>2003-06-24T21:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-24T21:30:09.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="16"&gt;Patricia&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your name of Patricia creates an intense desire for association with people and new experiences, many of which have been rather bitter. This name has given you a gregarious personality and a quick-thinking, creative, and versatile nature, but one that is unstable emotionally. You desire change and travel and would enjoy opportunities that allowed you to be creative and to act independently, rather than to conform to system and routine. However, this name does not allow you to complete your undertakings, as farther fields always look greener. Although you may appear confident and positive, you actually lack confidence and feel self-conscious at times. This name spoils patience and depth of thought, and weakens your stand in matters of principle. You are too open to suggestion, and thus you could become involved in detrimental associations which could lead you into by-paths of thrill-seeking or emotional indulgence. Any weakness in your health would appear in the fluid functions as kidney, bladder, or circulatory problems. or in a sensitivity affecting your stomach. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95999761?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95999761' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95999520</id><published>2003-06-24T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-24T21:26:50.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pressanykey.com/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/pak/treetypes.pl?process"&gt;What Some Site Says About Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full of charm &lt;br /&gt;cheerful &lt;br /&gt;gifted &lt;br /&gt;without egoism &lt;br /&gt;likes to draw attention &lt;br /&gt;loves life &lt;br /&gt;motion &lt;br /&gt;unrest and even complications is both dependent and independent &lt;br /&gt;good taste &lt;br /&gt;artistic &lt;br /&gt;passionate &lt;br /&gt;emotional &lt;br /&gt;good company &lt;br /&gt;does not forgive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Some of these words so describe me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pressanykey.com/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/pak/pig.cgi"&gt;More me!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outlook on life &lt;br /&gt;You are a realist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concern over tradition &lt;br /&gt;You are innovative, active, don't have a strong sense of family, nor do you remember dates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotional state &lt;br /&gt;You are precise and to the point. You enjoy life and all that it has to offer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your resolve &lt;br /&gt;You are secure, stubborn,and stick to your ideals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social skills &lt;br /&gt;You prefer to talk rather than listen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love life &lt;br /&gt;You are unlucky in love &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95999520?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95999520' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95999238</id><published>2003-06-24T21:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-24T21:11:04.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My legs are killing me right now. I refuse to ever go shopping...ever again. Had to go meet Leslie at school today because she didn't know how to get to my place. Wasted two bus tickets. Pfft. Beh!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got good marks on my exam for English and Science. I was too scared to go ask for my geography marks and my math teacher was being an ass. He wouldn't let me see it until it was the fourth period time (half hour periods), so...Leslie and I decided to just go to the mall. Screw math and geography. &lt;p&gt;Bah. Spent most of the day shopping for a gift for Sara's birthday party on Saturday. My legs are really killing me and my feet are hurting. My hair appointment thing is on Saturday, wooo. I need a camera damn it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Whatever money I get from relatives for the next two years...I'm saving for a digital camera. A cheap but good one. Yeah. Leslie says she knows two people who'll be able to get me one...for cheap whenever I have enough money saved. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can either do it the semi-legal way...or the illegal way," she says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95999238?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95999238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95999238' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95965714</id><published>2003-06-23T21:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-23T21:56:57.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Guess who just woke up? Me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95965714?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95965714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95965714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95965714' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95927454</id><published>2003-06-22T19:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-22T19:59:28.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Luna Lovegood is my new favourite character&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*stares dreamingly outside the window*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Umbridge deserves to be hacked into pieces and thrown in the ocean as fish bait. That's all I have to say, Potter fans! I think we all agree on that. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95927454?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95927454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95927454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95927454' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95838087</id><published>2003-06-19T15:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-19T16:02:15.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt; Captain Commando!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a bear hug from this big guy called Joseph after exam today. I now know what it feels like to be Leslie (ahahahha short asian!). Yep. He then lifted me off the ground and swung me around. Leslie kept laughing at me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing interesting to say. I never do. Oh well. Need I study for math? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95838087?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95838087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95838087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95838087' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95736450</id><published>2003-06-16T21:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-16T21:29:10.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="6"&gt; a decade in the making&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She Stoops To Conquer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English exam tomorrow. I'm studying for science. God, I suck. mIRC won't work. I think it's the sever. YES I ADMIT IT! I go online to whine about my pathetic life to horny internet pedophiles who have an even more pathetic life than I dooooo. Yes. Hahahahahahaa. Laugh at me all you want, deep inside you're jealous because I find a way to convert my boredom to some kind of goodness. Meaning? I make lonely internet pedophiles happy (NO! Not in that way you freaking sick freaaaak). I chat them up, and they don't feel lonely...thus...decreasing the suicide rate of this country and america. You're welcome. I should get paid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should remove &lt;a href="http://ainjel.blogspot.com"&gt;Jade&lt;/a&gt; from my list of friends/links thing. She barely blogs and stuff...and when she does she's mostly complaining about something or some kind of lyrics thing. Seriously. DON'T KILL FOR THIIIS PLEASE DON'TTTTT. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95736450?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95736450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95736450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95736450' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95715570</id><published>2003-06-16T09:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-16T10:14:37.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://guru.theotaku.com/mononoke/spirit.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="verdana"&gt;&lt;a href="http://guru.theotaku.com/mononoke/mononoke.shtml" target="_blank"&gt;What Forest Creature Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://guru.theotaku.com/nervchild/shinji.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="verdana"&gt;&lt;a href="http://guru.theotaku.com/nervchild/child.shtml" target="_blank"&gt;What NERV Child Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://guru.theotaku.com/animevampire/countd.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="verdana"&gt;&lt;a href="http://guru.theotaku.com/animevampire/animevampire.shtml" target="_blank"&gt;What Anime Vampire Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Withered Lover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/ColdTuesday/quizzes/What%20sign%20of%20the%20Black%20Zodiac%20are%20you%3F/"&gt;What sign of the Black Zodiac are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95715570?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95715570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95715570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95715570' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95660505</id><published>2003-06-14T10:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-14T10:04:56.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I got you down&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to take a nap at 10:30 PM yesterday, I was so tired. I need some shut eyes...but instead...I slept till 9:45 AM. Argh. I don't feel like studying, but I have to. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95660505?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95660505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95660505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95660505' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95609135</id><published>2003-06-12T19:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-12T19:47:29.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop it! Just stop it! Do you think it's funny? Yesterday I almost caught a glipse of what it's like...inside...but today when I tried to peek again you kicked me. Shoved me out of the way. It was like a slap on the cheek. It hurt. You didn't notice. You don't notice when it matters...&lt;br /&gt;Our friendship matters to me. Stop trying to wreck it. You want to hurt me...I KNOW IT! DON'T TRY TO DENY IT! I'm tired of this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: Can't picture you saying that. ;x&lt;br /&gt;You: Can you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Er, no.&lt;br /&gt;You: I didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;You: Because that's not the kind of person you are.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only do you think you know me...but you can be quite the patronizing bitch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of you. Sick of that weird friendship we have. SICK OF IT! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95609135?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95609135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95609135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95609135' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95608424</id><published>2003-06-12T19:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-12T19:19:52.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Want to see you hazy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to leave you completely pleased. Sleep drifting above you, sweetly released. Want to see you smiling, weak in the knees...want to see you come, come completely pleased. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry about X. I worry about school. I worry about homework. I worry about exam. I worry about mum. Who worries about me apart from mummy dearest? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you broke you it. Now you bought it...so...you might as well use it while you got it. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bus I thought about X and worried. Worried about X not making it. It drives me nuts. Sometimes I can't help but feel that if only I had been there...if only I hadn't been gone. I wish I knew what happened...but wishing won't get me anywhere. Agh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95608424?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95608424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95608424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95608424' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95561111</id><published>2003-06-11T15:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-11T15:35:08.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Corporal Punishment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahaha. Die, Leslie, die! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For making me wait for so long for her to do her stupid geography project I shall make Leslie walk with me to the mall....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95561111?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95561111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95561111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#95561111' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95129885</id><published>2003-05-31T16:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T16:17:43.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I'm not my own person&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always sound like someone else. Like Leslie or Sara. It's either one of them. I'm tired of it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95129885?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95129885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95129885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95129885' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95129071</id><published>2003-05-31T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T15:43:00.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Strumming my pain with his fingers&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strumming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song. Killing me softly, telling my whole life with his songs.  I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a good style. So I came to see him to listen for a while...and there he was this young boy...a stanger to my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt he found my letters and read each one aloud. I prayed he would finish, but he just kept right on strumming my pain with his fingers. Singing my whole life with his words. He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair. Then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there. He just kept singing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95129071?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95129071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95129071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95129071' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-95110420</id><published>2003-05-31T01:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-31T01:13:03.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Fucking Bloody Hate It&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck it. I mean it. I'm tired of her always going around messing everything up. I feel bad about being mad at her, but I can't help it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's some weird psychological need thing I am experiencing. I have years ahead of me to try and figure you out. That is...if we're still friends by then. I don't know why I bloody goddamn chose you. Maybe it was some wishful fantasy of mine. Watched too much fucking tv, that's it. How often do the bad guys become good? I'm not saying you're the villlain. No one really is one, except in Western Hollywood Movies where they're just bad for the whole sake of it. You act tough, but deep inside you probably are. I don't know. Maybe it'd help if you let me inside one day. Let me have a visit instead of always sidetracking me. I'm too young to be taken seriously, well...so are you. You're not much older than I am, Ms. I-Am-So-Smart-And-Better-Than-You. You crack jokes with me and I realize that we never talk about serious stuff. Stuff that matters. I want to tell you things, but I'm afraid that will make me look weak or needy. But I am needy, did you know? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't give a shit. Well, neither do I.( On the outside.) I give a shit about lots of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a pathetic, twisted thing and (maybe without realizing it) turning me into one too. You leave me hanging off over the edge and push gently. Hard enough for me to tip over, but at the last minute you grab the back of my shirt. You saved me. One day you'll push not-as-gently-as-before and I'll fall. You won't be able to stop me. You'll blame yourself. Maybe you'd jump after me. Maybe not. Maybe you'll be the first to fall and grab the nearest thing near you. Me. If you die, I'm sorry. I'm sorry because I won't join you, because I know you wouldn't join me. That what pains me the most sometimes. Neither of us care enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of your bullshit. You lie. You lie too much. You say it isn't really lying since we make the assumption. But you don't bother telling us we're wrong. Misery meet Company. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Still Waiting For The Real You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-95110420?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95110420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/95110420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#95110420' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94956359</id><published>2003-05-27T16:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T16:56:57.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Time Consuming&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time to cut the time I spend after school from now on. Buses are becoming crowded, hot and smelly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I've got your phone number written at the back of bible.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94956359?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94956359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94956359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94956359' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94873895</id><published>2003-05-25T19:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-25T19:09:30.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Missing it&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some odd reason I cannot help but feel a tad bit lonely without &lt;b&gt;it&lt;/b&gt;. Haven't talked to &lt;b&gt;unknown&lt;/b&gt; for a while and I miss &lt;b&gt;it&lt;/b&gt;. I feel pathetic, but I can't help it. Of course...lately...it seems &lt;b&gt;it&lt;/b&gt; is being a moody little bish and we haven't talked as much as I would like. I get bored too often. I need some kind of extremely amusing hobby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;It&lt;/b&gt; better be back by tomorrow or...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94873895?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94873895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94873895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94873895' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94862264</id><published>2003-05-25T11:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-25T11:41:33.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cancer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just found out my uncle Roger has chronic leukemia. This brings back memories of my Grandpa. He died around my birthday from leukemia. This sucks. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94862264?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94862264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94862264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94862264' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94850257</id><published>2003-05-25T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-25T01:08:55.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;You're so pretty when you're quiet. Yes. You are. You're beautiful in the dark. Failed attempts have turned us into one pathetic twisted wrecked. You don't need to be so shallow. Turn your head, prepare to follow. It's nice to have a point of view. &lt;br /&gt;It's funny how my mood drops when I have no one. Well, no...not really. I'm alright when I have someone to talk to, but as soon as I am alone and bored...I get all weird and a little bit depressed. Bored and depressed to the point where I start questioning my existance in this 'oh so beautiful' planet. I feel cuts that aren't there. Maybe they are and I just can't see them. I want to cut my hair right now. Cut it all off and wear a wig. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to have sex...I would like to do it at night. In the dark. My feet are freezing. And I lose my page again. I know this is surreal, but I'll try my luck. With you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was all grown up now. An adult. Right. Now. Because it looks so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94850257?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94850257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94850257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94850257' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94847637</id><published>2003-05-24T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-24T23:37:43.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; Anyone perfect must be lying. Anything easy has its cost. Anyone plain can be lovely.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so cool. Too bad I'm a loser. I'm so smart. Too bad I can't get anything figured out. I'm so brave, too bad I'm a baby. I'm so fly. That's probably why it feels like I'm falling for the first time. Well, it's true that we love one another. I love Jack White like a little brother. Well, Holly I love you too, but there's just too much I don't know about you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Matrix was nice. The Matrix was awesome. The Matrix Reloaded was funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94847637?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94847637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94847637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94847637' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94714130</id><published>2003-05-21T21:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-21T21:44:46.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table border=1 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=1 bgcolor=#ccddcc width=300&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1 color=#000000 &gt;Will Patricia Survive A Pit Match Against Clinton And Bush?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border=1 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=1 bgcolor=#ccddcc &gt;&lt;tr height=30&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table height=10 &gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=36 bgcolor=#ff0000&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#ffffff  align=right&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1 color=#000000 &gt;36% chance Bush would kill you.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr height=30&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table height=10&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=24 bgcolor=#ff0000&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td  bgcolor=#ffffff align=right&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1 color=#000000 &gt;24% chance Clinton would kill you.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr height=30&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table height=10&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=66 bgcolor=#ff0000&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#ffffff align=right&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1 color=#000000 &gt;66% chance he would sexually harass you.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr height=30&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table height=10&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=40 bgcolor=#ff0000&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td  bgcolor=#ffffff align=right&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1 color=#000000 &gt;40% chance you would kill them.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=2 align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Sans-serif" size=1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theatomictemple.com" style="color:#118811"&gt;Enter Combat&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94714130?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94714130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94714130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94714130' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94702567</id><published>2003-05-21T16:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-21T16:34:34.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Can't Keep Track&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many stuff [funny] happen during school that I can't keep track of everything. Not one day passes by that I haven't laughed. NO ONE. I should bring a tape recorder one day and record our whole conversation. If anyone feels like buying me a tape recorder thingy...please...feel free to do so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was an incredibly funny day. Yeah. It was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94702567?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94702567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94702567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94702567' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94661157</id><published>2003-05-20T21:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T21:20:24.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Sore Throats&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killer throats. But it's all better now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94661157?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94661157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94661157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94661157' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94655390</id><published>2003-05-20T18:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-20T18:53:09.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Odd Conversation&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: That freaked me out&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: Were you tied up, or tying up? ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tied...eh...&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: Maybe the dream means that part of you wants to be tied up ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: Lol, oh yeaaah&lt;br /&gt;Me: Totally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: You should try it some time.Get some of the other girls to tie you up.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ooookay&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: Seriously. You should try it ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: (slightly suspicious) Ok...are you saying you got tied up once.. And enjoyed it?&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: No...I'm saying that you should listen to your dreams ;o&lt;br /&gt;Me: Suure&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: I've never been tied up =/&lt;br /&gt;Me: Sure...&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: I was tied down once though ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: How come?&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: So I wouldn't move. ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Unknown: I don't want to say ;x&lt;br /&gt;Me: ...*cough*&lt;br /&gt;Me: How's the weather?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94655390?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94655390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94655390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94655390' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94483418</id><published>2003-05-16T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-16T23:39:37.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Allegro Moderato&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been missing my clarinet player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately D doesn't seem to have a problem talking to me, before it seemed as if he felt uncomfortable around me. For what reasons...I don't know. So...I feel better now. I seemed to have confused my feelings, but I sorted it all out. No, I don't like him. I just feel glad that he doesn't think I'm repulsive or anythng. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The streets are glossy. The kind of shinny you see in the movies and read about in books where the lights reflect on the left over water from the rain. Yeah. I can see it from my window right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94483418?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94483418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94483418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94483418' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94417552</id><published>2003-05-15T19:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-15T19:29:25.670-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/1031609283_CMyDocumentsMyPicturespsychic8.JPG" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are Psychic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Legowen/quizzes/What's%20Your%20Magic%20Power%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What's Your Magic Power?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94417552?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94417552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94417552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94417552' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-94414629</id><published>2003-05-15T18:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-15T18:21:50.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;This Week: Eine Kleine Nact Musik!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. So. After coming back from the &lt;b&gt;Walk Against Male Violence&lt;/b&gt; and rallying in front of the City Hall I went to see the dentist. He said I had nice teeth, but have an overbite and should go see an orthowhatever. I HAVE NICE TEETH! Ahahahaa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week school seemed to have beaten me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Monday&lt;/b&gt;: Jazz band rehearsal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tuesday&lt;/b&gt;: Stage rehearsal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wednesday&lt;/b&gt;: Jazz band rehearsal from 3 to 5. Go back to school at 6 for the &lt;b&gt;CONCERT&lt;/b&gt;. Concert ended at 10. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thursday&lt;/b&gt;: Walk Against Male Violence...go see Mr. Dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friday&lt;/b&gt;: Stratford play, 'The Hunchback of Note Dame'...coming back to school @ 7 PM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. That's my schedule. Plus, I need to go see my science teacher about our lab project and do a lot of math homework. Man, school is taking all of my special, alone time. Mom doesn't want me to quit the Jazz band...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-94414629?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94414629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/94414629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94414629' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93896980</id><published>2003-05-06T21:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-06T21:04:34.693-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;asking for all the devils for you face among the trees&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dark, poetry, won't be enough anymore. In this sea of lonely, school is my only saviour...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93896980?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93896980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93896980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93896980' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93838208</id><published>2003-05-05T22:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-05T22:20:05.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;In The Rain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy in my class today offered me to take shelter under his umbrella. It was sweet of him. At first I was reculant, but finally caved in. My hair was getting wet and we all know how my hair gets when it's wet. We talked and I just realized something when we reached to a stop before we crossed the street: I never look at guys in the eye when I talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odd. Cause the whole time we have been talking I was staring a head of me or at the ground. I never once looked at his face. I felt guilty, cause what if he looked at me when we were talking? Maybe he thinks I was being rude, or just plain shy. So, I finally looked at him before we crossed. Hah. I have overcomed by fear (whatever it is or might be). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked him when the bus came and quickly try to cut in the fairly long line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventful day it has been. Yep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93838208?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93838208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93838208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93838208' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93714336</id><published>2003-05-03T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-03T14:54:17.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; In my dreams, I have a plan&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I got myself a rich man, I wouldn't have to work at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money, money, money must be funny in the rich men's world. Money, money, money must be sunny in the rich men's world. It's a rich man's world. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93714336?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93714336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93714336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93714336' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93684399</id><published>2003-05-02T22:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-02T22:25:02.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Scared shitless&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw IT again. Today. My heart started racing so badly...I couldn't breathe. I panicked and just ran away without making it obvious. I have no idea what he's been doing lately and wonder what he has done. I don't want to go back. Not anytime soon. I wonder how long he'll be staying there...he better leave by midnight...that freak. God, I can't believe I felt sorry for IT one time. Ugh. He makes me edgy now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93684399?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93684399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93684399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93684399' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93675905</id><published>2003-05-02T18:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-02T18:23:18.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; I say the right things, but act the wrong way...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I felt fine.&lt;br /&gt;Today I felt happy.&lt;br /&gt;Today my friend and I nearly bought cheap panties for a friend's birthday gift. &lt;br /&gt;Today my friend and I nearly bought a sexy topless man on the cover of a birthday card for a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Today my friends wrote on my arm with green and orange markers.&lt;br /&gt;Today I couldn't stop laughing during lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Today I went to the mall with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Today the bus was crowded because I went to the mall, but it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;Today I went to the library for the first time,&lt;br /&gt;In months...&lt;br /&gt;Today I said morning to a woman in wheelchairs in the lobby.&lt;br /&gt;Today I wished today wouldn't go away.&lt;br /&gt;Today I wished tomorrow will be like today. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93675905?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93675905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93675905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#93675905' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93570154</id><published>2003-04-30T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-30T22:40:24.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; miss never let a man help her off her throne&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ooh. She fell in love.&lt;/i&gt; What happened to miss independent? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93570154?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93570154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93570154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93570154' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93439312</id><published>2003-04-28T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-28T22:37:14.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;sunshine. i'm mad, but I still can't remember why...are you sorry?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like standing outside. i want it to rain. i want to stand outside while it's raining and just look up at the sky and just scare. it sounds awfull nice right now. just standing in the rain, cold rain. feeling the cold droplets of water hit you. when i was small i was told by my friends that it was God crying. maybe his tears will wash away my sins. maybe it will make everything better. i don't know why...lately I have been feeling unwanted. you know what i mean? Like, almost left out. maybe it's just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it scares me sometimes. when i'm alone. i get all depressed. like in this song...and i start thinking of bad things that will happen to me. i'm scared i'll be alone. that's one of the reason why i think i'll get married. marrying for love...hah. maybe. you'll learn to love the person. in the old days most arranged marriages ended up nicely since the couples didn't expect anything good out of them. maybe i read it wrong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing is pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. I really want to cry, but I don't want to at the same time. There was this period in my life when the littlest things made me cry. For any reason I would just cry. Mom never understood and always got it wrong. I couldn't explain. I still can't. There's just this sadness somewhere. Inside. That wants to come out. I used to keep my anger and feelings bottled up. Then at one point it just exploded.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments of rage...that I couldn't explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to move to somewhere else. Like Hawaii. It looks so nice, espcially after watching Lilo and Stitch. Don't get me wrong...Lilo and Stich didn't make me want to move to Hawaii...I wanted to from a long time ago. I had this list of possible places that I could move to. Hawaii and Charleston were two of the places. I have no idea where it wen to. Meh. I never keep those kind of stuff anway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feelings right now. Loneliness. Depressed. Inapt. Tired. Angry. Unwanted. Julius Ceasar. O Ceasar...i wish to console you. But I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Et tu&lt;/b&gt;, Brute?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell in love with Julius Ceasar. Why? Because of his character. Because of what happened to him. I can't help it. Sad boys...have a special place in my heart. Haha. Fuck this all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93439312?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93439312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93439312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93439312' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93432828</id><published>2003-04-28T20:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-28T20:39:17.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of being always second best. The last one. The last resort. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of it all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, like right now, I feel like just breaking down and cry. You just feel this nasty weight on your chest and you feel as if you're having sligh problem  breathing. Agh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93432828?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93432828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93432828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93432828' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93424773</id><published>2003-04-28T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-28T18:01:34.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Launcelot The Fool. Speaketh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93424773?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93424773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93424773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93424773' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93424551</id><published>2003-04-28T17:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-28T17:57:57.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Lonely Sailing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et tu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try. I tried. I'm tired. Treachery. Trust. &lt;i&gt;trusted&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hail Ceasar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stabbed. &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Et tu&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, Brute? The very last words said. Indeed. I feel no need to go on. A sudden piercing pain. Broken. Alas Ceasar! Unmoved. Like the Northern Star, there are no equals. But...what do you say when...it has all been a lie. Falsehood! &lt;i&gt;O happy dagger?&lt;/i&gt; O Ceasar. He kissed your hand. It was unsuspected. Out of all people. Him. &lt;i&gt;Et tu&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ceasar. The pain must have been great. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93424551?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93424551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93424551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93424551' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93315414</id><published>2003-04-26T18:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-26T18:54:52.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I am now officially an African Princess from Albania&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was fun. Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun. Lol. Funny. Leslie invited me into a conversation with her cousins. They're weird. Then again so am I. We pretended to be Natives. We talked about eating the Europeans who took away our land and the raccccoooons. Fish and hunting. Uhmmmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Chief is called POW WOW. Ahahahaaaaahahaaa. My fellow sisters are Pinky and Whatshername. We rule the land and pray to the Spirit Goddess, the God of Sun, Earth, and Animals...yes. We sacrifice anyone who opposes us. &lt;br /&gt;Lol. Leslie saved the log...I should post it someday. Hah. Freaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93315414?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93315414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93315414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93315414' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-93004791</id><published>2003-04-21T17:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-21T17:28:15.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I have to go back to school. Again. Why? I think I might enjoy school if I wasn't always worrying about stuff. Main thing that has been bugging me lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       1) My trombone. I have to carry it again on the bus. I don't why, but I just hate it. It's the attention I get. People will look at me. Especially other kids...and I don't like that. I prefer being invisible. Out of the line of vision. Maybe it's just my imagination. Maybe I just THINK people are staring when really they aren't cause they can't be bothered by the girl with the trombone who just got on. Maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       2)The music festival. &lt;br /&gt;       3) Little stuff such as...the hole in the bag...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get headaches. I get no sleep. That's right. Stuff like these make me worry sick. I once spent a whole night wondering about some stupid little thing. I don't even remember what it was. I get anxiety attacks, almost. I will suffer a nervous breakdown someday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this fear of failing, and when I do it doesn't shock me at all...because I was expecting failure. I learned not to expect much from others or myself cause one day I know I'll only get hurt. Yes. I should stop worrying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-93004791?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93004791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/93004791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#93004791' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92947706</id><published>2003-04-20T18:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-20T18:03:00.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Paris in Winter&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Paris in Flames...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sad. Have any of you ever experienced a pure sadness...so pure that it's almost like joy? Almost. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92947706?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92947706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92947706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92947706' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92466849</id><published>2003-04-11T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-11T23:46:22.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm over it. Skinny bodies flashing skin no longer bugs me anymore. At least, just as long as it's a picture. I shiver whenever I see a pair of really thin legs. They look like they can be snapped into two easily.  In makes me what to shove their face in food and force them to eat more. &lt;br /&gt;I still don't feel comfortable in my own skin though.  I have this horrible habbit of staring at my feet or the floor I walk on whenever I'm walking. It tends me to make look as if I'm so overly-insecure shy and low self-confident geek. I'm not. I'm only half of what I said. Then, sometimes I contradict myself. The reason why I look at the ground when I walk is because I think it's far more interesting sometimes and it became a habit. I always looked around to see if there was any poo when I was small...you know...so that I wouldn't step on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92466849?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92466849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92466849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92466849' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92466513</id><published>2003-04-11T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-11T23:37:46.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; I think we have a cause for a celebration and a Stevie Wonder song&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sing with me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she lovely?&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she wonderful?&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she special?&lt;br /&gt;Less than one minute old&lt;br /&gt;I never thought through love we would make such wonderfully a she&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord I'm so happy, we have been heaven blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Haha. I got a new baby cousin. I think her name is Amy Claire, we're not too sure what they're going to call her. &lt;i&gt;Isn't she lovely.&lt;/i&gt; Isn't She Lovely is hopefully the song my parents had in mind when I was born. It's such a pretty song...that's the song I'll play for my baby girl. If it's a boy then I'd play "Beautiful Boy" of course. :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful booooy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92466513?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92466513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92466513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92466513' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92332432</id><published>2003-04-09T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-09T22:40:36.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Geography Trip: Lets all go watch the CORE!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to go watch The Core on Friday for our geography trip. Fun. Wooo. Not only that we will also go downtown to understand the way of the extremely urban and stressed people of the city. We will go to some Indian, Greek, Italian and Chinese place. We will get mugged, I'm sure, and lost. I am tired. Too much homework. Someone wrote: "in case of fire throw this book in" in my math book. That sounds like an awesome idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: OH! NO! FIRE! What do we do?!&lt;br /&gt;Someone: I don't know! It's a fire what do we do?!?!&lt;br /&gt;Someone Else: THROW THE BOOK IN! THROW THE MATH BOOK. THAT WILL HELP!&lt;br /&gt;Me: *grabs her math book* DIE FIRE! DIIIE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. Ahahaha. Rush of adreline I say. Sugar rush. That made me giggle. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92332432?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92332432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92332432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92332432' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92026273</id><published>2003-04-05T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-05T00:43:45.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2002_12_15_nonconforminity_archive.html#86341823"&gt;Post from before Christmas Vacation. :D&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun stuff my friend. Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leslie says I can go shopping with her downtown or something...I casually mentioned that I needed new pants damnit. So, yeah...she offered. I didn't FORCE or try to IMPLY anything. I TRULY DIDN'T. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92026273?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92026273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92026273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92026273' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-92026082</id><published>2003-04-05T00:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-05T00:38:50.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I let my hair down today and all of a sudden I socialize with other people...or people are socializing with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked to the bus stop with these two guys from my math class. They kept cracking up jokes that I didn't get and laughing all weird. Boys, I tell ya. Weird things. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-92026082?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92026082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/92026082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#92026082' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91806785</id><published>2003-04-01T19:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-04-01T20:52:56.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; The misery of bones that must be broken in order to be set straight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up facing the window, outside a winter morning where everything is quiet and coated in thin layer of white...I felt tired even though I went to sleep at 10:45. My bones feel heavy from the gravitational pull of sleep and ache to flood itself under the warm sheets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus was crowded again, shuffles of feet and grunts. Bulks and layers of clothing. The sharp sting of the wind and flakes of snow. So cold that it burns, this is what winter is made of. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91806785?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91806785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91806785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_04_01_archive.html#91806785' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91573361</id><published>2003-03-28T18:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-28T18:22:06.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; Somehow time is slower in the morning &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the caf. I sit sometimes by myself or with one or two more friends in the morning, we're either doing homework or just sitting talking and sleeping at the same time. Time is slower then, ten minutes seem to be as if had been prolonged for 30. And during that time it seems my mind begins to work slowly too, I think and the world stirs...it seems to me I think the way a poet would think.&lt;br /&gt;I envy the couple a few tables away, whispering and leaning in each other. The gradual instant it takes them to kiss, a quick kiss...I turn away. Envy? Jealousy? One of these, or in between. (Although they are nearly the same thing...). The couple, hands entwined, fingers webbed make me wonder: &lt;i&gt;how do you openly display your affections, emotions towards someone so publicly without being afraid of getting hurt in the end.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;Impossible.&lt;/b&gt; I am scared of relationships...but why need I to worry? I won't ever be in one...for...who in the right mind would want &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure &lt;i&gt;someone&lt;/i&gt; would. But not any time soon, I bet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91573361?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91573361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91573361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91573361' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91241812</id><published>2003-03-23T17:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-23T17:12:13.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;To Kill a Mockingbird&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm coming out. I want the world to knoooow.La, la, la, la. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I have read the 8 chapters assigned to us and To Kill a Mockingbird is a wonderful book. Not exactly the book I'd pick, but more like something my mom would get me or something...or my aunt. Pooor Scout and Jem is adorable...as for Dill he's a whacko and reminds me of someone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91241812?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91241812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91241812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91241812' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91198427</id><published>2003-03-22T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-22T18:27:33.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; I'm coming out, I want the world to know...got to let show!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wooo. Diana Ross made me want to draw again...&lt;b&gt;THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU DIANA&lt;/b&gt;. She's one awesome lady, let me tell ya. And a few hours spent with Francesca cured me out of my stupid depression state. Nothing better than window painting the church front door glass and talking about the &lt;i&gt;olden days&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91198427?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91198427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91198427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91198427' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91158319</id><published>2003-03-21T21:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-21T21:16:40.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; buried myself alive...you almost made me cry again... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My depression period is back again. Bare with me. I can't fucking help it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91158319?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91158319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91158319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91158319' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91157431</id><published>2003-03-21T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-21T20:53:18.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Feeling moody. Don't know why and also feel confuse. Argh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91157431?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91157431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91157431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91157431' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91084893</id><published>2003-03-20T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-20T17:24:45.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;WHO DERE?!?!?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just burnt my fingers trying to get one of those lean stuff thing out of the toaster oven, as soon as I grabbed it I threw it on the plate. Ahahaa. Gosh...just came home and don't feel as tired as I thought I would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this really nice poem on the bus today, I couldn't read the author's name which is a shame really...really&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91084893?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91084893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91084893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91084893' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91022962</id><published>2003-03-19T19:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-19T19:03:51.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>[19:08] &lt;@Bater&gt; Maybe you just think I'm being serious, when I'm not. =/&lt;br /&gt;[19:08] &lt;@Chaos&gt; =\&lt;br /&gt;[19:08] &lt;@Chaos&gt; Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;[19:08] &lt;@Chaos&gt; I think you're serious 24/7&lt;br /&gt;[19:08] &lt;@Chaos&gt; Except with the gay jokes. =\&lt;br /&gt;[19:08] &lt;@Bater&gt; You think I'm lying when I say I'm wearing purple panties?&lt;br /&gt;[19:09] &lt;@Chaos&gt; No. =\&lt;br /&gt;[19:09] &lt;@MistyLane&gt; ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91022962?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91022962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91022962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91022962' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-91020591</id><published>2003-03-19T18:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-19T18:18:08.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I passed my science unit test, wooo wooo wooo woo for me. :D&lt;br /&gt;I think I did, but beh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the wind was blowing too hard, my hair kept getting messed up and it sucked cause we all know what my hair looks like when its messed up. I'll post a picture, but no. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-91020591?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91020591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/91020591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91020591' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90881401</id><published>2003-03-17T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T17:40:14.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seriously. Someone is beating me up in my sleep! I KEEP WAKING UP WITH BRUISES. Yesterday there was one on my anke, leg, foot and now another one on my left leg. Like ahhh. I suspect mom and Sara, Lacie and Leslie. I need a camera. I demand protection. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90881401?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90881401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90881401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90881401' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90880897</id><published>2003-03-17T17:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T17:31:46.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think gay people are cool. Let me refrain...I think gay MEN are cool. I don't know why exactly, but I just do...especially after watching Birdcage :D Faaaaantastic movie, funny and Robin William is in it along with whatsit the new guy in Will&amp;Grace. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90880897?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90880897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90880897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90880897' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90880056</id><published>2003-03-17T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T17:20:01.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://my.raex.com/~bbenedet/quizzes/nazgul3.jpg"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://my.raex.com/~bbenedet/quizzes/nazgul.html"&gt;Which Ringwraith are You?&lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;By &lt;A HREF="http://lisaofdoom.livejournal.com/"&gt;Lisa&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Jade's better. Her's is like:  Like, dude. Whoa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminds me of Leslie XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90880056?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90880056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90880056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90880056' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90879448</id><published>2003-03-17T17:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T17:08:25.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Studied some more for science. Wooo. By tomorrow I should be finished...and I better fucking pass that unit test.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90879448?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90879448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90879448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90879448' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90860470</id><published>2003-03-17T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T11:12:26.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh...and I also I found my right food so damn fascinating during my insomania hours. It was like the first time I've ever seen feet. Ermm...it was mainly the veins and the reason why I was staring at my foot was because the veins reminded me what Jacob said in &lt;i&gt;Fugitive Pieces&lt;/i&gt;...or was it Ben [doesn't matter]?!  I think it was Jacob cause he was with Michaela and he said something about veins which to me I think sounded poetic and probably was since that's the way Anne Michael writes and you simply got to love it! She's one awesome lady.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; It made me wish that someday someone will say something like that to me...whatever he said. I'll have to flip through the book and try and find it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90860470?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90860470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90860470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90860470' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90859844</id><published>2003-03-17T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-17T11:01:01.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Weird. These past few days I've only had a few hours of sleep since I've been going to sleep at 5. Last night I actually cleaned up my room a bit and studied for science. Maybe I have insomania!!! The good thing though is that I don't feel so tired at all...I woke up at 7:30 when I heard mom leave. I don't know why but I like jumped right out of bed and ran to the kitchen...with my blanky wrapped around me. Have no idea what was going on in my head...Anyway I went back to sleep only to be waken up at 10:30 by Jessica calling. I thought it was Leslie, she said she'd call me in the morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90859844?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90859844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90859844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90859844' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90769376</id><published>2003-03-15T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-15T13:06:41.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think I now know the reason why I never liked my cousin Michelle as much as the others. It's because she's thin, damnit.  Something I've never been and NEVER will be. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90769376?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90769376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90769376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90769376' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90749406</id><published>2003-03-15T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-15T00:19:45.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok. Nevermind that. It was the cramps talking. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90749406?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90749406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90749406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90749406' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90748956</id><published>2003-03-15T00:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-15T00:07:19.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm messed up. Really...deep inside I'm messed up. No one knows what &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;truly, really&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; goes on in my head...except me of course. I just know it. I need a therapist or something. I want one. I want to talk to somebody, goddamnit. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90748956?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90748956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90748956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90748956' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90363824</id><published>2003-03-08T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-08T13:43:41.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; I'm grieving...nobody knows it, but you got a secret smile and you use it only for me...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Saturday morning alone and bareling feeling, all night...in a cat fight with the only person who can make me cry. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm still mad, but I don't remember why...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fascinating new thing, you delight me&lt;br /&gt;And I know you're speaking of me&lt;br /&gt;Fascinating new thing, get beside me&lt;br /&gt;I want you to love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised that you've never been told before&lt;br /&gt;That you're lovely, and you're perfect&lt;br /&gt;And that somebody wants you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fascinating new thing...don't betray them&lt;br /&gt;By becoming familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised that you've never been told before&lt;br /&gt;That you're priceless&lt;br /&gt;Yeah you're precious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La la la la la la la la la la la la...love that song...it was in Ten Things I Hate About You. SemiSonic plays it. And it was also in a car commercial. Yep.&lt;br /&gt;Bah. Humbug. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90363824?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90363824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90363824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90363824' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90338941</id><published>2003-03-07T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-07T23:07:02.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/whimsy/images/myson.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am My Son! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find your whimsy character&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com" target="new"&gt;kelly.moranweb.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90338941?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90338941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90338941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90338941' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90329597</id><published>2003-03-07T19:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-07T19:14:52.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Nobody knows it but you got a secret smile...and you only use it for me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! I have been listening to SemiSonic again and it feels nice. I love F.N.T and Never Mind...yeah. March Break! I NOW SLEEP IN FOR A WHOLE FREAKING WEEK! WEEEEEEEE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But those teachers are such....I have so much to do. It sucks. This all sucks. Pff. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90329597?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90329597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90329597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90329597' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90152096</id><published>2003-03-04T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-04T22:13:07.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You made it easier on me, thank you. I was rigth to be a cynical bitch...I had every right to. You decided for me and I'm glad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90152096?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90152096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90152096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90152096' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90088256</id><published>2003-03-03T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-03T22:13:32.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I would say I'm sorry, but really that would be a lie. I don't feel sorry at all.&lt;br /&gt;I don't fucking feel sorry at all. So you know what? Screw you. I don't give a shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90088256?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90088256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90088256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90088256' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-90083784</id><published>2003-03-03T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-03T20:54:36.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Giving birth is not only painful, but also disgusting and eeek. Of course I know I have no experience...but watching this lady giving birth in science class was....erm. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-90083784?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90083784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/90083784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90083784' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89881212</id><published>2003-02-27T23:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-27T23:15:33.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's a wonderful day in the neighbourhood...la la la la la la. Yep. I've watched that once or twice and kind of liked it. I always prefered Elephant Show and Barney though...what they taught me....heh...Barney taught me that we are all special :D and if we believe in ourselves we can do anything and all those bunch of crap. I learned songs from Elephant Show :D :D :D :D...ONE LITTLE ELEPHANT WENT OUT ONE DAY! La la la la la la. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89881212?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89881212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89881212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89881212' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89812907</id><published>2003-02-26T21:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-26T21:59:01.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have Mother Dearest as my mother?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran up to her in the kitchen about just now and told her about this movie we saw once. Julie Andrews was in there pretending to be a guy pretending to be a woman on stage. She was like, "No...are you sure?" I said, "Yeah! Remember?! She took off her wig and they thought she was a guy and yadi yadi yadi yadi daaaaa." Mom just shruged, "whatever you say"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAH! OK! EVIL! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need money. Anybody wanna send me money? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89812907?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89812907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89812907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89812907' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89811844</id><published>2003-02-26T21:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-26T21:38:56.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I need money. Cash. Now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the mall more than once this week with my friend...yeah. We were checking out clothes and those evil salespeople kept asking us questions. I think they were scared that we might try to rob them [Leslie once suggested we wear brown paperbag over our heads...think of that next time]. Yeah...we were walking around and Sara oh so cleverly suggested we 'bring money next time.' &lt;br /&gt;WONDERFUL IDEA! Should have thought of that..."memo to self: bring money when going to the mall". But...I don't have any money! I spent most of the money I got during Chinese New Year on some stupid tablet I'm not using. Evil. And I have to pay for my overdue books too. Life is unfair. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89811844?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89811844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89811844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89811844' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89752586</id><published>2003-02-25T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-25T22:23:41.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I fell three times yesterday...it was jolly good fun. Heh. I hate snow! Snow sucks...and ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I fell was when I was going to school. I jumped down off this huge pile of snow cause the janitor didn't fucking bother to clear that freaking place and there was ice. I slipped and fell. Yep. Thank God no one was there to see me. Then the second time it happened again except I was with my friends. There was a brief period of laughter followed by another period of laughter THEN a period of concerned. I have such nice friends, don't I? Lovely t..the third time...well...yeah. The third time was just hilarious. I was going to McDonald with Leslie, Sara and Beverly and Sara made an evil comment about our heights. According to her we will never grow any taller...or....just never get taller than her. So! Leslie and I decided to throw her in the snow and run away...but that didn't work so well. Instead Leslie tried to throw ME in the snow...oh yeah...she TRIED. Yep...We were like wrestling each other for a while and finally she pushed me. I fell. Grabbed on to her jacket and dragged her down with me. Oh yeah! I'm not going down without pulling somebody else with me. We both fell and just layed there in the snow laughing. Beverly and Sara pretended not to know us and walked away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In McDonald Sara and I didn't have any money...Leslie had her CREDIT CARDS and 45 bucks. We spent an hour sitting at this booth thingy in the corner eating Stephanie's super sized fries. Leslie gave Sara some money to buy something...she got a HAPPY MEAL! I spent about 10 minutes playing around with our little Moogli and his jungle thing. Leslie tried to built it...but that didn't go so well. She threw away this green stick in the garbage that was part of the toy thing and I screamed. Yep. I was about to go in the garbage and get it again, but no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was fun. Can't wait till tomorrow...we have photography club. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89752586?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89752586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89752586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89752586' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89393216</id><published>2003-02-19T17:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-19T17:54:52.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ooo. I should have brought my camera with me or something today! Maaan. It was worth the 2 dollars. Hah!  I had so much fun at Band Aid. The first band was awesome... too bad they didn't win...those stupid people especially the girls are so superficial. I bet it was because there were no hot guys. Come on...who cares about that?! It's the music! They were like gods compared to the one who won. Apart from that everything was fine. I can't wait till they have it again next year!!! At one point one of the bands was so freaking loud I couldn't hear myself talk! Swear to God...and my ears felt like they were plugged. That's what you get for being right in front of the stage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND! The highlight of the whole thing was when that Jake whateverhislastnameis from Degrassi came! We were all like, "OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!" and "HOLY SHIT! HOLY CRAP! OMG! OMG!" Yeah. Jake is sooooo cute. "Less Than Jake" was printed on his t-shirt. His band is called Mind The Gap or something...they had a cute blonde vocalist/drummer and guitar player. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chillie Willies were also good. They tied with the band that one (who wasn't as good mind you and the reason why the Chillie Wilies tied was because one of the guy in there is good looking)...but the two bests were the bald guys (THEY WERE SO FUCKING AMAZING! I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY DIDN'T WIN!) and the first band (they played a really nice Nirvana song and system of the down...I wasn't there for their first song). &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89393216?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89393216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89393216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89393216' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89282677</id><published>2003-02-17T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-17T23:07:15.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My attempt to persuade mom into getting my grandma and uncle to send me their wonderful collection of encyclopedies and dictionaries failed. Damn it. I want it. It's not fair...but...I do believe my uncle will be sending those scientific magazines he has been collecting for years. Man, I miss those time reading about dinosaurs or Egypt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89282677?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89282677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89282677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89282677' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89163898</id><published>2003-02-15T19:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-15T19:38:57.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Valentine's day. What can I say? Well...unlike all the other single whiny lonely single people I had a pretty normal day pretending that it was not Valentine's day at all. Hah. Oh yeah. I went to go see How To Loose A Guy in Ten Days with my friends. We had nice clean fun. I know you're all jealous and wish you were me. I CAN SEE IT! Don't pretend. It's ok to be jealous of people like me...what can I say? My life is always exciting unlike yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89163898?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89163898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89163898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89163898' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89162250</id><published>2003-02-15T18:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-15T18:49:40.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Valentine's day. What can I say? Well...unlike all the other single whiny lonely single people I had a pretty normal day pretending that it was not Valentine's day at all. Hah. Oh yeah. I went to go see How To Loose A Guy in Ten Days with my friends. We had nice clean fun. I know you're all jealous and wish you were me. I CAN SEE IT! Don't pretend. It's ok to be jealous of people like me...what can I say? My life is always exciting unlike yours. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89162250?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89162250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89162250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89162250' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-89011078</id><published>2003-02-12T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-12T22:27:23.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel as if my head will go BOOM very soon. Damnit. Why didn't I listen to my mother?! WHY?! Damn damn damn this. I should have switched my subjects around...stupid crap. I just joined the photography club and forced-begged-made Leslie and Beverly join too. Sara and Natalie went also... Wooo. The only problem is that I don't feel like doing much anymore. I have Blue Print (school newspaper) on Monday, Jr. Concert Band on Tuesdays, Photography (now) on Wednesdays, and Jazz Band on Thursdays. I only have Fridays as a &lt;i&gt;go straight home and sleep &lt;/i&gt;days. Bah. I'm tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been sleeping quite well lately, but still don't feel like getting out of the bed. I hate it. It feels like I slept well but not really. My alarm rings at 6:30 I'm half-awake by 7:15...so I only have 15 minutes to brush my teeth, get dress and have a proper breakfast (I haven't had one for a very long time...in fact I've been skipping breakfast). I think I shall go to sleep now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-89011078?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89011078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/89011078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89011078' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88873310</id><published>2003-02-10T17:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-10T17:09:18.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sara...what kind of bullshit IS THAT?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;First of all &lt;b&gt;Hahahahahaahahahaha&lt;/b&gt;. Second of all,&lt;b&gt; pfff&lt;/b&gt;. And third of all: &lt;b&gt;pssssssh&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I passed my science test. Oh yeah...I felt so 'God-Like' and 'Omniscient' (sp!) when Catherine was asking me stuff. Studying IS quite good and works. I freaked out this morning when Natalie and Beverly were talking about &lt;i&gt;Jade Peony&lt;/i&gt;, a story I was suppose to read for English, and I spent my free morning time in the cafeteria reading. Then found out that it was for tomorrow...welll...yes. Then I spent 15 freaking minutes OR more waiting in line to use the microwave. DIE STUDENT COUNCIL! Replacing a brand new broken microwave with a even crappier one is just the way to go...WOOOOO...so...my noodles were cold. I had to eat cold noodles for lunch. I wasted so much time and was missing out on the funny stuff. Lunch is my Happy Time...it's where I have to chance to laugh everything out and get hyper. Nothing funny happened cause I wasn't there when it was happening. &lt;br /&gt;But...Leslie and Josette did point at me and LAUGH when I was waiting in line. I guess it can count. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88873310?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88873310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88873310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88873310' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88872209</id><published>2003-02-10T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-10T16:48:03.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had the giggles during English. It was so funny. We were talking about atmosphere and moods...and the teacher asked us a question. The class went all quiet, no one would answer. I looked around for someone to raise to their hands and I started grinning. It's just like in the movies! You know those big silence where nobody talks...yesh. I thought it was hilarious and I almost laughed out loud&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88872209?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88872209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88872209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88872209' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88729698</id><published>2003-02-07T18:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-07T18:05:34.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So. Today I nearly got murdered by Rachel for something I didn't say and bit my tongue so hard that it bled and I nearly spat out my fries. Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the murder thing...we were talking about some guy and Leslie said he was not hot and Rachel didn't know which one of us said it. SO...as you may have already guessed Leslie lied, said it was me and ran off. Rachel pounced on me and told me to take if back. At that time I was laughing so hard I couldn't even speak to defend myself. I pointed at Leslie and said between paroxysms of laughter: "Leslie said it. It wasn't me." Then Rachel like dashed right after her and I followed...Leslie was half way across the street and Rachel was trying to get her to come back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88729698?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88729698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88729698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88729698' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88672666</id><published>2003-02-06T18:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-06T18:03:04.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yep. Jazz band was awesome, almost. We got new songs again: Caravan and Mack The Knife. I got a solo/duet with David the tenor sax player (I think). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88672666?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88672666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88672666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88672666' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88496299</id><published>2003-02-03T17:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-03T17:59:10.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Shit. Shit. Crap. Crap. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know those chinese pastries cookie cake thing? It's round like a ball and has sesame seeds? If you don't know what I'm talking about then SHAME ON YOU! Especially if you're asian. I'm only half, so I have an excuse for not knowing the name. But anyway it spilt on the carpet in this very same room. And lets hope mom doesn't notice anything. Stupid sesame seeds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88496299?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88496299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88496299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88496299' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88428749</id><published>2003-02-02T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-02T13:12:38.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alright. I know we're all dying to know what happened yesterday at the Chinese New Year party at my aunt house. Well, I'm sorry to say that :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[x] no, I didn't get laid&lt;br /&gt;[x] no, I didn't get drunk&lt;br /&gt;[x] no, I didn't get high&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I know...what kind of a PARTY WAS THAT!? EH! Well...first of all..I wasn't dying to have sex with my cousins anyway cause:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Most of them are too young&lt;br /&gt;2) The one who was older than me...well...he wasn't interested... and works in McDonald and is the jerk that said lies about me and his sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...er. Yes. That's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;} film people&lt;br /&gt;} take snapshots with the video camera&lt;br /&gt;} pretend to be some kind of superstar&lt;br /&gt;} watch a bit of What Lies Beneath (errr)&lt;br /&gt;} eat like a hungry pig&lt;br /&gt;} play with my cousin's Lilo doll&lt;br /&gt;} shake my head around (you should have seen my new HAIRDO...then you'd understand why...erm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88428749?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88428749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88428749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88428749' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88357961</id><published>2003-01-31T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-31T21:23:58.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wallflowers. Ooo I'm bored. &lt;br /&gt;I saw A Guy Thing yesterday and it was bloody damn hilarious. Yes. Bloody! And I saw Chicago today with mum and my cousin. Expect some singing from me for a few days. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88357961?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88357961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88357961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88357961' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88292745</id><published>2003-01-30T17:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-30T17:57:23.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lets see &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. I was going to go watch Chicago on Friday afternoon with my friends and my cousin was going to tag along...but...I CAN'T! WHY?! Because some other SHITHEADED COUSIN OF MINE, who happens to be such a fucking NERD AND A LOSER WHO PROBABLY PAYS FOR HIS FRIENDS, told my cousin's dad that we were going to meet 'internet guys'. Oh yeah, I happen to be one of those dumbassed girls who look for love in chatrooms and have online boyfriends who pretend they are teenagers when really they are lonely fags who have no life other than talk to little girls and jack off thinking of those poor stupid girls. &lt;br /&gt;And my cousin's dad said because it was dangerous walking in BROAD DAYLIGHT WITH A GROUP OF PEOPLE. What about nasty perverted boys? What if something happens to us? We have to think of the dangers and blah blah blah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. Screw that. Screw them all. I'm not happy about this. Now I have to call my friends and say I can't go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88292745?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88292745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88292745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88292745' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88287331</id><published>2003-01-30T16:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-30T16:12:49.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.kevinfriendly.com/aboutme.html"&gt;Woot woot. That guy is gorgeous.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend LACIE GOT LINK REFERALS...from him. Lol. I spent over one minute just grinning at his stupid pictures. My dear friend Daniel called him a &lt;b&gt;camera whore&lt;/b&gt;. So am I...gosh...who doesn't love taking pictures of themselves?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we have ONE thing in common. Hooded sweatshirts. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88287331?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88287331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88287331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88287331' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88252638</id><published>2003-01-30T00:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-30T00:53:17.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Pretty fly (for a white guy)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give it to me baby. UH HUH UH HUH! Give it to me, baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Homies. Bored. Nya. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88252638?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88252638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88252638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88252638' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88201225</id><published>2003-01-29T00:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-29T00:55:45.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want a live journal! Please. Please. Please! Someone &lt;a href="mailto:pleelin@hotmail.com"&gt;get me a livejournal code&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;If you do I'd be forever in your debt and do whatever favors you may ask of me. Really. Serious. I'd marry old style :D. Meaning: &lt;i&gt;i shall change my last name to whatever is your last name, move to your place, and submit to your oders.&lt;/i&gt; Yes. I'll be a charming wife. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88201225?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88201225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88201225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88201225' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88177554</id><published>2003-01-28T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-28T16:55:53.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Feeling tired. Very tired. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88177554?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88177554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88177554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88177554' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88165760</id><published>2003-01-28T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-28T12:54:29.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Footloose&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I got this feeling that time is no longer holding me down!&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Footloose is the song to listen to when you just woke up in the morning. Yep. Sara is coming tomorrow, weee. Feeling giddy right now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88165760?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88165760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88165760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88165760' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88141577</id><published>2003-01-28T00:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-28T00:47:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Even though I'm tired, I'm feeling pretty happy. Don't ask. I think I should start a new weblog. Yes...Ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88141577?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88141577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88141577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88141577' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88138886</id><published>2003-01-27T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-27T23:45:47.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://irc.initechsol.com/~candid/jan26th.html"&gt;January 26th, 2003. SUNDAY!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88138886?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88138886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88138886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88138886' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88138623</id><published>2003-01-27T23:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-27T23:39:55.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did nothing. Bored. No pictures. I need a digital camera...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88138623?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88138623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88138623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88138623' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-88060728</id><published>2003-01-26T16:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-26T16:06:31.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I  heard this lady is getting a butt transplant. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-88060728?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88060728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/88060728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88060728' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-87916672</id><published>2003-01-23T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-23T15:42:36.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>....barely studied for Religion. Oh Lord please help I...;\ if you can...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-87916672?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87916672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87916672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87916672' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-87858267</id><published>2003-01-22T15:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-22T15:35:16.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; feeling weird&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading Sashi's blog...I really seriously admire her. She's truthful and totally open about shit and just says it...and honestly I wished I could do that. Be so open about stuff I wouldn't ever tell anybody. Gosh. And while reading this entry something clicked in my mind [actually it already has since last year...]...and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Well...I...I've always been like that. I don't know if it's just me or something else but...believe it or not, I love &lt;i&gt;being depressed&lt;/i&gt;. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one like that. This guy TheRaven, Ben, that I met on mIRC, he admitted he liked being depress too and it was then that I found out that I'm not the only one. There's probably a name for people like us. I'm no sadist or masochist, I assure you,...but the idea of being one [masochist that is] is appealing in a strange twisted way. Don't ask. Maybe it's because I'm usually such a fucking loner most of the time or feeling alone is why I enjoy being depressed so much [even though at times I hate it...but whatever]. It's like I like and I don't like it at the same time. Such as getting the result of your report card and sometimes you don't and do want to know your mark...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever accidently pinched yourself when you were on a sugar rush? Well, it's like woah. I love doing that. It hurts and you like almost freeze/stiffen all of a sudden, but you feel like this awesome rush go up your body to your head or something. Anyway, I think it feels great. I don't have anything to compare it though... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of time I wish to have a mental breakdown or something, just to see how everyone would react to that...and how it actually feels to go all loonie. I forgot the word for that but I read about it once and ever since I've been trying to figure out HOW to actually make that happen. But you see the problem is that...I love life and would hate to go insane. I love being in love with life. And is that what keeps me alive? Certainly so! If it wasn't for that I wouldn't be alive...isn't that why most of us is still alive? It's because we want to be happy right? We want to live a life full of pleasure and happiness that's why we don't fucking kill ourselves when something cause wrong...maybe I'm the only one who thinks that way. But...that's not the only reason why I'm still alive...and I'm too scared to commit suicide. I'm scared of death, because I don't have an idea what will happen next when lets say I wreck my veins and lie in a tub or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But whatever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-87858267?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87858267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87858267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87858267' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3952726.post-87854160</id><published>2003-01-22T14:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-22T14:10:43.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;So, I changed the layout. Wee.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was freezing cold this morning and I think I passed my French exam...the least I can get is a C...I mean come on...I'm not &lt;i&gt;stupid&lt;/i&gt;. I'm pretty sure I'm not. I'm scared about Religion though, I know what some people are thinking though: "&lt;b&gt;FAIL&lt;/b&gt; Religion? Are you serious?" Hah. That would be embarassing and I'd really look dumb. And that is why I'm going to start studying my ass off tonight and tomorrow so I'm ready for Friday. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3952726-87854160?l=nonconforminity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87854160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3952726/posts/default/87854160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonconforminity.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87854160' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17151984337753255390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
