<?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-14258132</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:23:26.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lies I want You to hear</title><subtitle type='html'>random things I just feel like letting You know.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-3050900773150378059</id><published>2009-02-07T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T15:56:29.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Going to Grand Century to do anything is a hassle. I picked up some contacts and ordered more today, but they don't take my parents' insurance, so I have to pay and then have the insurance company pay us back. Blah blah blah. After going to the optometrist, I went into the mall to get my mom some nuoc mia. The guy charged me $8 for 2. After paying, I looked at the signs posted with the menu. Nuoc mia was $3.49. $3.49 times two... is.... not $8. I guess he took me for a fool cuz I don't look very Vietnamese-y. Like an ABC but the Vietnamese equivalent. I debated whether I should ask for the $1 back, but I decided not to. My mom told me I was stupid when I got home. I didn't intend to tell her the price, but... eh, long story. My mom just likes to complain about small stuff that Vietnamese moms would all complain about. I got frustrated listening to her, asking, "Do you want it or not?" cuz she thinks I didn't go to the right store blah blah blah. My dad just told my mom to forget about it and that she didn't even tell me where to get it so how would I know blah blah blah. I went upstairs to my room and found I was sucking on air through my straw. I opened my cup of nuoc mia and found that 3/4 of the cup was packed with ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid grand century.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-3050900773150378059?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/3050900773150378059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=3050900773150378059' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/3050900773150378059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/3050900773150378059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2009/02/blah-blah-blah.html' title='Blah blah blah'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-4252001925802180371</id><published>2009-02-01T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T17:57:24.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Too Bad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nat King Cole - Autumn Leaves (French)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;I absolutely love this song in this version from this singer. I can't find the French version anywhere except for Pandora, so I can only hope the luck is on my side to hear it.&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend turned out to be a lot better than I'd expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my first Friday chemistry lecture of the quarter and went to Sacramento with my parents to visit family since we weren't able to do so before Tet. I was really dreading it because I never love going to Sacramento; I usually find myself just sitting around, staring off. It's not horrible, but since we were going to stay the night also, I grumbled a lot. Antoine's birthday party was also that night, so I was a little bitter that I was going to miss it after not hanging out with him for about.. 4 years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At around 4:30, we arrived at my grandparents' house at which we were going to also stay the night. There was going to be a family dinner at my aunt's in the evening, so I had a lot of time to kill. My uncle, Bac Tien, served me pho after bragging about how his pho is hella bomb (though not in those words). It was... pretty bad. My parents agreed with my thoughts, but of course, none of us said it aloud. My mom made a few comments on how it wasn't sweet enough and that it was too salty. I'm not sure if it was the saltiness that got me; I can't describe it correctly, but it tasted to me like it came from a powder and more water needed to be added.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family dinner was alright. I'm pretty indifferent to most things. The food was fine to me. We were having hot pot with noodles, and I didn't think the broth was very flavorful and there was some weird additional dip for whatever was cooked in the hot pot, but I thought it was okay. My parents corrected me in the car during the trip back home the following day by saying it was some of the worst they'd ever had. Whoops. Anyway, I hung out with my cousins a bit. We played Apples to Apples and Cranium. I'm usually pretty competitive, but I was tired and playing with mostly 12 year olds. My cousin, Thuy Linh, is pretty chill. She's 12 years old, I think, but she was a painnnnn when she was a little kid. Now she's pretty cool, but I can't say the same for all of her friends. I don't mean to pick on little girls, but two of her friends whose names I forgot seemed really... stupid, and it's not just because they were both on the opposing team haha. They just acted very dimwitted and kept messing up Cranium. For example, if you're supposed to draw and try to get your teammates to guess the word/phrase, your teammates can't see the word on the card because.. obviously, they're supposed to guess! They kept showing each other the card and looking at the answer while my team kept yelling at them to stop fucking up (again, not in those words).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my cousins who is a year younger than me, Thuy Dan, is cool to talk to. I'm not close to any of my cousins, regrettably, but we always have okay small talk, though I hate small talk. Anyway, she has a new boyfriend who goes home with her every weekend she goes home from UOP, I guess. At first glance, I thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She could do better&lt;/span&gt;. I didn't talk to him, but he seems alright in the average, unspectacular way (I try not to judge..). She left her house early with her boyfriend to go to a hotel to stay with his parents who were visiting from LA. According to my aunt, his parents asked Thuy Dan to stay with them for a night. Call me traditional, but that's just absurd. Maybe if they all went vacationing together, that would be reasonable to stay with the boyfriend's parents, but she left home to stay at a hotel with them. I can't really put my finger on it, but I find it weird. What surprised me most was that my uncle and aunt approved. I guess my aunt has gotten soft, but I would've expected my uncle to immediately dismiss such a proposition. I thought it was really strange, but it's not my business, so I really don't care that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After returning to my grandparents' house, everyone went to sleep. I went back and forth through being asleep and being awake throughout the night because of random late-night conversations and texts with friends. The next morning, my parents and I made some rounds to different relatives' houses to say goodbye. We said bye to my grandparents, an uncle, an aunt, another uncle who wasn't at home but at my grandparents', my grandparents again, my aunt's mom who isn't my grandma, then finally left! It was a long ordeal that spanned across 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best moments of being in Sacramento were when we were sitting around the table at my grandparents'. I don't have much to contribute to the family gossip, and I'm glad I don't have to get involved with that bullshit, but when the subject changed to something other than drama, I felt happy to just sit there and listen. I chimed in now and then, but I was happy listening to my grandparents. My grandma is still healthy mentally though it's hard for her to do much physically; my grandpa seems a lot healthier. He stopped talking after he moved to Sacramento and whenever he did talk, he was always distressed about something. This weekend, he was able to even joke a little. When I was saying bye to him, he started to get upset like he usually does, and I tried to hug him, but he didn't want me to and mumbled something about being a burden and wanting to die early. It sounds pretty dramatic, and hearing it isn't great, but he does that a lot, so we try to just smile and laugh it off, saying, "Don't be ridiculous." He continued to mumble and told me, "You know I love you, right?" I don't know, I just felt sad. I think it's because all of my life, I've never really been able to express to my grandparents how much I appreciated them other than through elementary Vietnamese phrases, hugs and kisses, and stupid smiles. I think it was sad that he had to say that, as if I didn't know already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home yesterday, I made Antoine a flan cake in memory of the days we used to be close and when he made one for my birthday and gave it to him last night. I forgot his mom was vegan, so I brought it to his house and she was like, "Ohh.. we'll take it from your heart, but we don't eat it." Antoine isn't a vegetarian, but his mom doesn't know. I felt really stupid for forgetting. Epic fail. We still ate some in his room though. It was my first attempt at making flan cake. It was pretty good, but I think I had too much caramel, so each bite got closer to sickeningly sweet. We only managed to eat half, and flan cake isn't even filling, so that wasn't much. We watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vicky Cristina Barcelona&lt;/span&gt; on his 30something inch LCD. I've seen most of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt; already since it's actually a somewhat old movie, but I wanted to see the whole thing on a big screen (I suggested seeing it in theatres, but he wanted to just watch it at his house). I really liked it; it was so badass. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;VCB&lt;/span&gt; was a little awkward to watch cuz of all the sensual scenes, but I got over it by the 3rd one. We also tried watching some TV shows and part of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chocolate&lt;/span&gt;, but it quickly became 6:30AM, so he took me home. By the way, sorry Larry for not being able to talk to you on the phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of my weekend is going to suck though. School work. Chemistry lab report time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-4252001925802180371?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/4252001925802180371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=4252001925802180371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/4252001925802180371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/4252001925802180371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-weekend-turned-out-to-be-lot.html' title='Not Too Bad'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-4633400359197822194</id><published>2009-01-29T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T16:01:20.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AIM Adventures #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:43] 4: do u wanna cuddle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:44] Mi Xao ngon: yah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:44] 4: wtf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:44] 4: really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:44] Mi Xao ngon: ya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:44] Mi Xao ngon: i'm actually talking to a friend about how today is perfect cuddle day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[earlier conversation]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[15:26] any: watcha up to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[15:27] Mi Xao ngon: lying down in bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[15:27] Mi Xao ngon: aloneeee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[15:28] Mi Xao ngon: this is one of those days where i wouldn't mind sleeping all day with someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[15:28] any: ahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;[/end earlier conversation]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:45] 4: do you have a book to read too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:45] Mi Xao ngon: ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:48] 4: like we can cuddle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:48] 4: and read a book too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:49] Mi Xao ngon: mm i'm not gonna cuddle with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[15:49] 4: oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;pwned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-4633400359197822194?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/4633400359197822194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=4633400359197822194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/4633400359197822194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/4633400359197822194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2009/01/aim-adventures-1.html' title='AIM Adventures #1'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-1811736675546642347</id><published>2008-11-13T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T22:04:15.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fat Joe - Make It Rain (Remix)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;The only song in which I can stand Lil Wayne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate Lil Wayne. I hate that he thinks he's the best rapper alive when he is so far from that. Suck my dick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dating this guy and I still like him, but he likes his ex now. Worst luck evar. He still hugs me and kisses me on the cheek though. Should I be a bitch? Wouldn't that make him not like me..? Actually, I think I have don't have a chance anymore because I think he's already talking to his ex. Errrrrrggghhh. I'm lousy at getting over guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy who used to like me texts and IMs me now and then. I told him that I don't ever want to speak to him again a long time ago, but he still reaches out to me sometimes randomly. Should I tell him to shut up and fuck off? Note: He had a girlfriend who he is still with and probably still goes around cheating on her/ dating on the side. I just want to put him in his place because who he is he to think that he can do that? It's not a big deal though, so I've just been ignoring him so far. I hate that these guys I don't want to talk to ever again keep trying to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy just showed me this stream. Hella cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-016567387736882544 visible ontop" href="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="left: -23px ! important; top: -736px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-016567387736882544 visible ontop" href="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-016567387736882544 visible ontop" href="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="left: -23px ! important; top: -738px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-016567387736882544 visible ontop" href="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" id="utv29331" height="320" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="viewcount=true&amp;amp;autoplay=false&amp;amp;brand=embed"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016"&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="viewcount=true&amp;amp;autoplay=false&amp;amp;brand=embed" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" id="utv29331" name="utv_n_121329" src="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="320" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ustream.tv/" style="padding: 2px 0px 4px; background: rgb(255, 255, 255) none repeat scroll 0% 50%; width: 400px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; display: block; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: underline; text-align: center;" target="_blank"&gt;Free TV Show from Ustream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-1811736675546642347?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/1811736675546642347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=1811736675546642347' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/1811736675546642347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/1811736675546642347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2008/11/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-7583749516898491562</id><published>2008-11-09T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:29:17.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was extremely lazy today. Hopefully I'll be productive over the next couple of hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My day started by waking up at 1PM. I hate doing that when I intend to get a lot of work done, cuz it's just no way to start. I was going to go to MLK to study and do homework, and I didn't. I stayed at home doing nothing instead :[ Then I went to a birthday dinner at Hukilau. I've never eaten there before and I didn't like it that much. Too much gravy on my tonkatsu with barely enough rice. I've never really eaten Hawaiian food before. Everyone used to always go to L&amp;amp;L, but I still have never tried it, and especially after today, I don't want to. Call me crazy, Larry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now I'm uselessly blogging. Nothing important or interesting on this end of the Internet. Just bored -_-. I should definitely use all this wasted time on my UC applications instead..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-7583749516898491562?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/7583749516898491562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=7583749516898491562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/7583749516898491562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/7583749516898491562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2008/11/lazy-sunday.html' title='Lazy Sunday'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-8658640128461979854</id><published>2008-11-02T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T04:13:47.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Interesting Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stars - Reunion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;First song to play on my Pandora. Somewhat fitting, at least the title is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I haven't been on this thing for a long ass time. It's been almost a year since my last post. After reading L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;arry's blog, I felt like posting. *shrug* I guess I've changed a lot in a year. I should have, at least. My last post was such a downer.. Well, I don't plan on keeping this long, so maybe I should skip all the updates and go over my Halloween night. It'll probably a more interesting read for Larry, the only person who would read this. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v342/136/114/504413661/n504413661_1525033_8020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 208px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v342/136/114/504413661/n504413661_1525033_8020.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Halloween night began at a friend's birthday/ Halloween party. I'll be frank. It was pretty boring. Before I even left the house, I knew it wasn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; going to be great. I don't know why I didn't go with my friends to Berkeley to party. I guess I just thought it was too far. After staying for what seemed a polite duration (if there is such thing), Phillip (my ride) and I left. On the way back, I called Leland to see if he was still planning to go to Berkeley to party (a separate party from my friends' plan) with Larry. He didn't go yet and didn't care about sneaking out, so we were on our way. Yay, spontaneity. We got to Larry's "penthouse" with little misdirection and surprised him. Seeing some high school friends I haven't seen in a while was cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place was packed! I had to excuse me-sorry my way&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; through many rooms and hallways, one in which I got fingered. Some sick bastard decided to just run his finger up my skirt. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;[TANGENT&amp;amp;RANT]&lt;/span&gt; I swear I knew who the fool was as it was happening to me. There was a guy close to me, creepily staring at me as it happened as if he was waiting for a positive reaction. I should've just punched the 3 guys (alright, maybe it was a girl.. whatever.) closest to me, but I just decided to move through the crowd. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[/END TANGENT&amp;amp;RANT]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all the people, I didn't meet many new people; I just hung out with the people I already knew from middle and high school, most of whom were the hosts. I'm usually very social at parties, but I guess it's because I have a shorter attention span when I drink, so I just talk to whoever's next to me. I met some of Larry's Oakland friends. One was a guy named Hieu who I talked to while getting jungle juice (and having strangers spill it all over me). He was grinding on me earlier that night (yes, greatness.. -_-). He was kind of cute, I think. I can't really remember now, but what I do remember is my friend, Simrunn, catching up with me, standing in between Hieu and myself, talking to me a lot about who knows what, Hieu eventually walking away, and my getting cockblocked (or.. kittyblocked, rather. whatever.) I thought that was a little funny. At the end of the night, all we exchanged were names and and a hug. Disappointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was also funny, and a little awkward, was Robert Chao hitting on me. Yup. I honestly see him as a brother at most. He was wrapping his arms around me and saying I was his main girl and that he no longer had a girlfriend (which was a lie, haha). I think it was a mix of him being drunk and my costume being somewhat of a catalyst, not to say it was great, but it called for some of that attention, I guess. Everytime a guy said he liked it or that he loved me, I just replied, "Yah, I know." I don't like to stop for fools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I surprisingly had a lot of fun. The surprising element is that I was sober. Sober fun at a party. I probably would have had a lot more fun if I drank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post was long. I give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-8658640128461979854?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/8658640128461979854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=8658640128461979854' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/8658640128461979854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/8658640128461979854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2008/11/stars-reunion-first-song-to-play-on-my.html' title='An Interesting Night'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-2226551528592609918</id><published>2007-11-11T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T19:05:07.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>But I Couldn't Make You See It...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Mayer - Slow Dancing In a Burning Room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Nobody's going to come and save you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth and I broke up.&lt;br /&gt;He was my perfect boyfriend, and he says I was his ideal (though I think that idea died long ago), but we weren't happy. He broke up with me, and I am still in love with him, but I don't think I was completely happy either. I'm sure he was less happy than &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was though. I think I need a long time off to think about the things I really want, and whether whatever those are includes a relationship. I'm really sad that we broke up, but I think it's not only because I loved him, but also because I loved the thought of him. I'm still unclear about how I feel about this, but I just know that I'm grateful for Kenneth being my first love. And every time I think of him from now on, I'm going to beat myself up repeatedly with a mental bat for fucking up our relationship that I couldn't even dare to dream of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFkhyqTT9jQ/RzkUIJvp_-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TKeV1A3FNEw/s1600-h/group26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFkhyqTT9jQ/RzkUIJvp_-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TKeV1A3FNEw/s320/group26.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132155380652703714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, fuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-2226551528592609918?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/2226551528592609918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=2226551528592609918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/2226551528592609918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/2226551528592609918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2007/11/but-i-couldnt-make-you-see-it.html' title='But I Couldn&apos;t Make You See It...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFkhyqTT9jQ/RzkUIJvp_-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TKeV1A3FNEw/s72-c/group26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-3930918299133558817</id><published>2007-09-24T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T23:06:23.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Being Here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Evan &amp;amp; Jaron - Distance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will probably only consist of rants, so if you hate it when I whine, feel free to gtfo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to think about it, and most of the time, I don't, but when I do, I realize that GODDAMN I am sad as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's left, and I feel awkward. There are still some people here, but no one I feel close to (at least not anymore), and everyone has their own shit to do. I sometimes wish I went to SDSU just to be closer to everyone in SoCal. It's not something I'd ever do because even I think that's silly, to go to a school I don't want to go to just for other people, but I really hate being here now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone" that's left includes Kenneth. It's only been a couple days, but I still haven't even gotten to really talk to him. I didn't mind at first cuz I can understand that he's excited, but now, I feel so fucking sad that I can't stand it anymore. Of course, I'm not going to bother to even tell him cuz, for one, he's too busy, and two, why should I make him feel bad just cuz he did better than me in school and left? I have no right; it just makes me want to get over him, though. I'm sick of waiting to talk to him all the time, and I'm not going to whine to him about not giving me enough attention, so I'd rather just end it. Call me extreme, but shit, I'm sad as fuck. I know I'll see him soon enough, but just seeing him isn't enough. I'm still trying to think that it's all because he's just moved in and he's going out since he doesn't have school yet. I'm sure it's not even as bad as I might make it sound, but I keep getting closer to becoming depressed that I just don't want to worry about it anymore. Even though I didn't want it to, my world pretty much revolved around him, and now, I'm down in the pits. Fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes me more mad about my situation is that I'm at school with all these other people from high school that didn't even fucking try, and I'm at the same level as them now at this damn college. Fuck. I know it's my own fault for being such a stubborn motherfucker about studying and/ or even trying in high school, but this fucking sucks. Why the fuck am I here. Fuck this shit. God, I wanna just crawl into bed and never get out. I have no fucking motivation cuz I have no idea what the fuck to major in, and it's gonna take two years to transfer.... that's fucking long. God. I don't want to even try (Yah, I must be really stubborn and stupid to say that) cuz I don't think I can push myself for two years in this banal shithole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant rant rant raaannttt. Second day of school tomorrow at "college." Whatever. I feel so out of it that I don't even know how I'm going to get up tomorrow. I was having trouble sleeping last night till 2 AM, and the only person who was there for me wasn't even Kenneth. Hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-3930918299133558817?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/3930918299133558817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=3930918299133558817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/3930918299133558817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/3930918299133558817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-hate-being-here.html' title='I Hate Being Here.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-116832086299725965</id><published>2007-01-08T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T21:36:08.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Feel Like I'm Shrinking..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Copeland - Love Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(zomg. I'm in love with this song. Awesome how I didn't make a corny pun with the song title and all, right? I know.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over my Christmas break, I got to see Duy again after a couple of months. Thinking about it, he wasn't gone for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;long, but it really felt like forever. We ate, hung out, ate, played piano, went to MGL where he met Kenneth, got 8 tubes of Gummy Choco and a big box of Hello Panda, and... well, not much. I don't know, but it was really nice just seeing him and being able to talk to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left for KS, and soon, he'll leave for Afghanistan.&lt;br /&gt;It's in a couple of weeks, he says. He told me to go to sleep when he woke me up at 3 AM this morning with a call. All he was feeling, I couldn't comfort him. He wouldn't let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope it's not what he says.. but by the way he talked the night before he left, I feel like he's prepared me, though I know I'm not even close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. as I'm waiting for him to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-116832086299725965?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/116832086299725965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=116832086299725965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116832086299725965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116832086299725965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-feel-like-im-shrinking.html' title='I Feel Like I&apos;m Shrinking..'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-116821374885677679</id><published>2007-01-07T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T15:49:08.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Still Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Copeland - I'm a Sucker for a Kind Word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, I went with Kenneth to his Joi Ying performance for a Vietnamese community thing for the new mayor of San Jose, Chuck Reed. It was pretty fun, though at first, I was really nervous. I didn't know anyone, I didn't know how to approach anyone. Zomg, so I just watched the cute little kids who were the demons. :D They performed their opening, but something happened and they didn't get to do their drunken lion part. We sat in the back and ate. I wasn't going to eat at first, but Kenneth's friend, Wilkent, started putting food on my plate. I still refused to eat, but he called over an adult (Iono if he was one of their sifu) and told him I wouldn't eat. I tried not to look at him, but he started tapping my shoulder, saying, "Excuse me." I slowly turned around with a meek "yes," and started getting grilled as to why I wasn't eating: Why aren't you eating? You're not hungry? The food's not good enough for you? You want some McDonald's?... eek. He then called a waiter over and told him in Chinese that I didn't think the food was good enough. The waiter asked if I needed lobster to eat. T__T So embarrassing. I told them I'd eat, and the guy told me that I was a guest and they had to pay for me. Aiyah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, getting to know Kenneth's other friends was cool. At one point, I went to the bathroom, and Kenneth's friend, Brian.. Bryan(?), started mocking me. He was pretending to tie up his nonexistent long hair, and leaned his head on Kenneth. Kenneth told me that he pushed him away and Br_an threatened him with flicking. Spot on. -___-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Holiday&lt;/span&gt;. It didn't get great reviews, but I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have plenty-o-tubes of Gummy Choco, which will run out quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My state of mind is still in vaca-mode. Dammit. *shank*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-116821374885677679?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/116821374885677679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=116821374885677679' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116821374885677679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116821374885677679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2007/01/its-still-vacation.html' title='It&apos;s Still Vacation'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-116577926052777983</id><published>2006-12-10T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T11:37:55.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here It Comes..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Broken Social Scene - Windsurfing Nation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. All I can think of is getting sick, which I think I'm doing now. Hopefully not. Oh yah, yay! November's over. No more college apps and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is the last week before Holiday Break. After that, everything will zoom by, and whoa, out of high school. I wonder what's going to happen..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been up to much. Nothing new. I just go to school, go to work, do homework, and go out now and then. I want to start doing things, though, like learn how to cook something. That was my goal in the summer, but I didn't do it. -___-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently REALLY been wanting shoes. Well, I always did, but I just gave up before cuz I didn't want to use money, but now, I REALLY want them. =[ Nooo. I have to save up money. Finally almost back to 500.. =/ I was going to have over 1k once this year was over, but I didn't take Christmas into account. Who knew it was so damn expensive? (I really didn't think about it. Shush.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate driving in the rain. I'd rather walk, or, more like me, twirl down the street, in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to raise my grades. *bang bang*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that starts with doing homework (it more starts with going to class, but that's only 1st period that I need to work on :D). Laaaate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scrubs *hart*. Check that shit on the side menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-116577926052777983?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/116577926052777983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=116577926052777983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116577926052777983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116577926052777983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/12/here-it-comes.html' title='Here It Comes..'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-116026945640668893</id><published>2006-10-07T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T18:04:16.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I keep finding myself at the end of the week thinking, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;This was a horrible week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; That sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michelle Branch! Whoo~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where're my packages? Rawr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to church today and then to dinner... Maybe I'll just drive myself so I can go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa. Alicia Keys. What happened to her? Last I saw her in anything, it was in some horrible music video singing as a featured artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Some people want it all, but I don't want nothing at all, if it ain't you, baby, if I ain't got you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-116026945640668893?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/116026945640668893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=116026945640668893' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116026945640668893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/116026945640668893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-keep-finding-myself-at-end-of-week.html' title=''/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115986349695791420</id><published>2006-10-03T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T01:18:16.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I swear I look like Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;YUP! I'm sick, though you shouldn't be at all surprised. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115986349695791420?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115986349695791420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115986349695791420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115986349695791420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115986349695791420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-swear-i-look-like-rudolph-red-nose.html' title=''/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115973991264100202</id><published>2006-10-01T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T14:58:32.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like smashing someone with my elbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Justin Timberlake - SexyBack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(This is going to be on repeat allllllll day, cuz I have to make up a dance, or at least most of one, by tomorrow. Ah shiiieettt. *elbow*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wasted about 3-4 hours of my Sunday, and I want them back. *elbow* I just chipped off some of my dignity by trying to be anything but what I want to be: a concise, blunt bitch. *elbow* Even now, I probably wouldn't be able to say no. *elbow*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the heck does JT start singing on the 8/8 count rather than 1/8? That little shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw it. It's sprinkling, it's gloomy, I'm in a bad mood, and I'm sick of SexyBack when homecoming hasn't even started. I'm gonna treat myself to some jazz. I think I deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jazz singers totally understand chicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some green tea earlier. I feel kinda better cuz I woke up all snotty and funky in the throat, but I'm in a horrible, horrible mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm a terrible person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My emotions always turn into anger. I don't know why. I'm actually feeling a little sad, and a lot disappointed, but it just evolves into anger. So rawr. *elbow*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna start staying indoors, with my J3 reader constantly by my side. Yah, SAT II's. I'm gonna get fucked over so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to rearrange my room. I hate how my couch isn't facing my computer. I also still need to hook up my stereo. This whole turning-on-the-computer-just-to-listen-to-music thing is not working out. Like now. I totally want to turn up the bass on my jazz, lie in bed or on my couch, and chill out. I could do that now, I know, but it's just not the same. When the computer's on, I don't like leaving it on for no reason. Blehhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't eaten. *elbow*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go play with my SLR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so sensitive? *elbow*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will save up $1,000 by the end of this year. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me smile with my heart..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta-ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115973991264100202?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115973991264100202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115973991264100202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115973991264100202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115973991264100202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-feel-like-smashing-someone-with-my.html' title='I feel like smashing someone with my elbow'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115843737446475001</id><published>2006-09-16T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T13:11:29.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mexican Institute of Sound - Mirando a las Muchachas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(No, it's not mariachi or any other horrible Mexican music you may think it is. It's actually more.. like electronic.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't love this week. First week of school with a Monday. Blech. My Bio class has a semi-permanent substitute, and she's nice and all, but she does the most useless shit ever. "So, what does science mean to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;?" -_- I did horribly on my free responses in Calc BC. I'm the type of person who learns something for the year, then the next, clean slate. I remember the easy stuff, but I forgot volume, not to mention volume of a cross section, all the theorems, blah. Fuck you, Riemann. *shank* I swear, I'll find his grave and obliterate it. I keep seeing some motherfucker at school, and for some reason, I keep smiling and waving. Fuck that shit. (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ooo. Getting angry now.&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started working part time, so I have more time for better things. I didn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; it, cuz I was still managing to get everything done, and I only stayed up out of boredom, but now, I have time for other things, like hanging out with the girls, or taking my mom out for lunch. And with the assurance that my mom doesn't have cancer, this has been a good week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a Digital SLR. I'll post more about it later. Hopefully with some interesting pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115843737446475001?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115843737446475001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115843737446475001' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115843737446475001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115843737446475001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/09/good-week.html' title='A Good Week'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115813038431254598</id><published>2006-09-12T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T23:53:04.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I feel like I have so much hw. Why? It's senior year, dammit! Gyar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115813038431254598?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115813038431254598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115813038431254598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115813038431254598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115813038431254598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-feel-like-i-have-so-much-hw.html' title=''/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115793815152204672</id><published>2006-09-10T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T18:31:04.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ken Oak Band - &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/kenoak"&gt;Summer's Kiss&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(I love them so dearly.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a guy recently. At first, I was really skeptical, and I didn't really care much for it. Me care about guys? Not really. After a while, though, I started to like him a bit. Okay, I don't wanna explain the whole thing, so in the end: failed. Things just never work out for me with guys. I have really bad luck or something. Maybe I keep choosing the wrong ones, or maybe I drive them away. Don't know. I'm not trying to sound dramatic or anything, but really, why doesn't any of it work? I actually started liking him, and things were just lax... but I guess it was too laidback for me. Mehhhh. I need to go find some older guys. Holler at me. (I keed. Get away.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's alright. It kinda picked up work-wise, but I'm still handling it okay. The only thing that tired me out was work, but starting this week, I'm only working 2-3 days per week, so things should get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I retook my senior portrait today cuz they lost people's pictures or something. I didn't really like how I looked, but I just took it anyway. He said I was taking great pictures, but I'm sure they're required to say that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to buy a new vacuum. I'm thinking of that one on the commercial where that British guy talks about bad suction. *Google*... Ah. Dyson. I also found out that they're hundreds of dollars. :D!... Dammit. I hate my vacuum. Maybe next year.. after senior year and my Japan trip. Ack ack ack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a deviantART account for a while, but I only just started doing stuff on there last week. My stuff sucks though, and I don't have much on there yet, but feel free to check it out. It's in my links area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna vacuum my car with my shit vacuum. Yayuh. (Or I'll watch movies like I planned to do today...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115793815152204672?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115793815152204672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115793815152204672' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115793815152204672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115793815152204672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/09/hi.html' title='Hi.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115731542822050557</id><published>2006-09-03T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T13:31:26.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts About the Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Umbrellas - Tests on My Heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;("And I don't want you to save me. What if you did? You'd succeed, and you'd be bored, and leave. I'd be back at square one, and it's such a bad place to begin." Yes, boys suck.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I went shopping with my mom. She is the perfect shopping buddy. I know, she pays for my clothes, but not only that, she's not the type to linger around you, making you rush, or making you feel guilty for making her wait. She does her own shopping, but we're still able to help each other out. I especially like helping her.. (My mom has some odd fascination with lace. I'll just blame the Vietnamese genetics.) Anyway, we spent a lot of money, but I also bought her clothes and Jamba Juice. It wasn't anything in comparison to what she spent on me for clothes alone, but I still liked doing it anyway. It was my first time really getting her anything since I got my job. I buy her food and such, but I guess clothes are a bigger deal. When we were heading home from Oakridge, I was just sitting in the van, thinking, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When she dies, I'm going to be so sad.&lt;/span&gt; I don't know why. I just thought about our bonding times, and how we barely argue anymore (We used to argue a lot more.). I guess I just came to thinking about that cuz we went to Sactown recently, and my grandpa has changed so much. He went from being jolly and healthy to scared and pale, since he moved to Sactown (Something we shouldn't have done). I got scared when I saw him, not cuz he was scary looking, but cuz I knew that soon.. So, I got to thinking about my mom. Everything I'm proud of about myself, I got from her. She's made me into the person I am, and I'm glad of it. When my morals get muddled, she helps clear them up (Such as the "Guys suck" morality). And no one cuts my hair like she does (I wouldn't really know since she's cut my hair all my life, but I like the way she cuts my hair). Imagining my life without her, I feel like I'd crash and burn. I wash the vegetables, she cuts them (I have no skills with the knife whatsoever. Fucking tomatoes.). She washes the clothes, I hang, dry, and fold them (Course, most of this is stuff that we did at the old house. Now that my unemployed aunt lives with us, she does pretty much everything.). I really don't know what I'm going to do without my mom. She tells people we're like sisters, and though it sounded funny to me at first, we really are, except that respect is still intact. Despite all my upsets and disappointments, she still manages to be proud of me. I never understood why, but I guess it's just a motherly thing. I'm really going to miss all the times we've had, and will have, together. It scares me to think that she won't always be here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna stop thinking about that. Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to take my senior portrait again cuz their camera messed up or something. I have another chance to not do my hair and throw own some make up.. maybe I should actually try this time. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Ken Oak Band. The lyrics to their newest song, taken from their &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/kenoak"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; "trampoline"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; i saw her bouncing on a trampoline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; the grass was blue and the sky was green&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; angels' dust on the tips of her wings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; it's like you've never seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; and you forget to breathe at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; her hair was flowin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; a cool wind was blowin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; i said 'hello there miss...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; you know you've really got a lovely smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; so would you give me a kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; if i leaned in like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; i could be your fantasy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; all but the crown and cape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; if you can show me some reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; there's only so much i can take&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; we can sip on some mushrooms in tea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; anything you please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; it doesn't faze me at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; my thoughts were clearing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; her tone was endearing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; she said 'you're good at this...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; my dreams were truthful to me all the while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; so would you give me a kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; if i leaned in like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; i won't tell nobody at at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; then we stopped dancing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; your hands in my hands and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; my focus on your lips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; and it's hard to resist when you're looking like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; the shape in your dress isn't too hard to miss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; thunder and lightning and all this excitement is making me blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; but i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt; no i won't tell nobody at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115731542822050557?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115731542822050557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115731542822050557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115731542822050557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115731542822050557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/09/thoughts-about-mom.html' title='Thoughts About the Mom'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115718354456507603</id><published>2006-09-02T00:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T00:54:41.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Peasy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jon B. - I Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(Love the old R&amp;B. Not like now.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/e8d3scd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/e8d3scd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm a senior. It's hit me, but not that hard. I guess once events start happening (homecoming, rallies, etc.), then I'll realize it more, but as of now, my senior year is just.. whatever. It's easy, so easy that I still have free time even though I work 3 days, 5 days a week. I'm gonna be part-time starting next month or something though because of homecoming, and from there, I'm permanently part-time, so that's a whole bunch of free time. I still hate getting up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just came back from shopping-pho-dessert outing with Lisa and Christine. It's good to just hang out.. but man, am I full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing else (that I want to say), and I want to keep my posts short, so I'm out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115718354456507603?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115718354456507603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115718354456507603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115718354456507603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115718354456507603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/09/easy-peasy_02.html' title='Easy Peasy'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115674808053344355</id><published>2006-08-27T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T00:25:26.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Victoria Loves Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;.. And I should really be doing homework. -_- (Note: This is old. It was my first, and thus far, my only, attempt at vector art.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/01.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/01.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/02.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/02.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115674808053344355?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115674808053344355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115674808053344355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115674808053344355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115674808053344355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/08/victoria-loves-me.html' title='Victoria Loves Me'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-115658601942432197</id><published>2006-08-25T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T03:23:43.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why, Hello</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;So here's the quiz:&lt;br /&gt;Put your music player on shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;Press forward for each question.&lt;br /&gt;Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn't make sense. You'll be surprised though.&lt;br /&gt;NO CHEATING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How am I feeling today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Tilly and The Wall - The Freest Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I guess I'm feeling free?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Will I get far in life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regina Spektor - Chemo Limo&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apparently not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How do my friends see me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Pierre-Jean Gidon - Just The Way You Are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aww.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where will I get married?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Athletic Mic League - Trouble&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I guess I won't get married. T_T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is my best friend's theme song?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow Patrol - &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Ways &amp; Means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So much for that.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; This is ending up to be a very sad quiz..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the story of my life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tilly and The Wall - Ice Storm, Big Gust, and You&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It seems like my life isn't going to be all sunny days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;b&gt;What was high school like?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright Eyes - Bowl of Oranges&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cuz it was fruity and juicy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How can I get ahead in life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall of Transition - Violent (Acoustic)&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So.. kill everyone in my way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the best thing about me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clazziquai - Flower&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... My flower? I beg to differ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was today like?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muse - Dead Star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm beginning to think that I listen to horrible music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is in store for this weekend?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pussycat Dolls - Wait A Minute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seems like it means my weekend will get put off, unless I go by its lyrics and I'll be a gold diggin' slut. I don't know which I prefer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What song describes my parents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Taking Back Sunday - Eleven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I go by the lyrics, it's pretty sad. " Maybe it wasn't good enough, but I gave you all I could."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How is my life going?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phantom Planet - Rise the Setting Star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seems like it's saying my life has been a waste of time. Eek.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What song will they play at my funeral?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy Eat World - 23&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That makes me happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How does the world see me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria Taylor - Speak Easy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As an honest person who can speak their mind? Though, this song is actually about love. Iono.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Will I have a happy life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalie Imbruglia - Satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That sounds good, though most up to this point hasn't sounded great. So, the song is actually about trying to be satisfied, and how it doesn't work out. Ah, that's more like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do my friends really think of me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pussycat Dolls - Don't Cha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apparently, they don't think I'm hot like them, freak like them, raw like them, or fun like them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do people secretly lust after me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murs - Transitionz As A Ridah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I guess not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How can I make myself happy?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some song from the Love Story In Harvard OST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... Go to Harvard? Well, that sucks for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What should I do with my life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric Benet &amp; Tamia - Spend My Life With You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But just who is this "you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Will I ever have children?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanye West - Addiction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I guess I'm gonna have a whole bunch due to an addiction to.. sex?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What will you name them?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say Anything - Spidersong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have no clue how this makes sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who will you marry?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaliyah - If Your Girl Only Knew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Even if I were lesbian/bi, Aaliyah's dead! ... So is it doom, or fortune? This quiz won't stick to one thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dashboard Confessional - Rapid Hope Loss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I hate this quiz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;How will you die?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow Patrol - Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't get this either. I'll die.. trying to get back the one I love? ... Yeah, this quiz sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-115658601942432197?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/115658601942432197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=115658601942432197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115658601942432197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/115658601942432197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-hello.html' title='Why, Hello'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-114989250163145972</id><published>2006-06-09T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T16:19:29.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer's Here; Update Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;Daphne Loves Derby - Hammers and Hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(I remember when this album came out last summer. Yay for summer songs. It makes me want to go to the beach.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the day after the last day of school, and I'm sitting on my computer, blogging. It sounds pretty lame, I know, but it's awesome to actually have the time to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt; tedious crap like this. I HAVE NOTHING TO DO! and it's damn awesome. =D This summer, the only thing I really have to do is work. I'm currently working at Khai Tri, a tutoring center. I've only been working with little kids so far, but when the summer tutoring starts, I don't know whether I'll still be teaching little kids or not. Much to people's surprise, I can work pretty well with little &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/Scan10011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/Scan10011.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;kids. I guess everyone thought I'd unleash my wrath on them, but I'm actually pretty lenient. Maybe too lenient. I'm trying to be stricter on them, but I'm still ni&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;ce to them. My boss and the guy who manages the center I work at tell me not to interact with them at all and not to be friends with them, and they think I do it a lot, but... they're kids! What am I supposed to do o_o. Yeah, when they're bad, I'm harsh, but otherwise, I can still be nice, right? There aren't really any fully bad kids, though I do have the ones I don't like. I think there's only one. I forgot his name cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt; I only taught him 2 or 3 times, but he tries to be such a smartass. Ooo~! You can multiply and do this worksheet in less than a minute! I don't care. One thing I noticed with kids since I took t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;his job is that they're so damn competitive with each other. They're always trying to brag, get the last word in their little arguments, etc. They always have that "Oh yeah?" attitude. For example..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boy 1: Noooo. I don't want to do anymore work.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: You have to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boy 2: Can you give me 5 more homeworks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: Uh, sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boy 1: I want 10 more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boy 2: I want a hundred!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boy 1: A zillion!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of person asks for "a zillion" homework assignments? -_- In this job, I have to make sure I don't feed their damn egos. Gotta humble them -_-. However, there are the kids who need to get built up. Actually, there's only one. Her name's Christina. I analyze my kids, and from the start, I knew that this girl had little to no friends. I always felt bad for her, but I can't really force kids to play with her. There's one specific girl in my class who just outright dislikes her named Brittany. She's kind of like.. the popular girl in my class. She's pretty, not very smart, talkative, etc. She calls Christina "stupid," "idiot," and other condescending things. I always punish her for it, but she does it anyway. I'll admit, Christina isn't my brightest student, but she's a hard worker and understands things, though at a slower pace. Just the other day, Brittany had gum and was sharing it with everyone, but when Christina asked for some..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Christina: Teacher, I asked Brittany for a piece of gum, and she said no.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;Christina: She doesn't like me.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ... You know what? Let's go buy some. Hurry up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I grabbed her hand and we ran out to the water store to get some 30 cent Juicy Fruit. When we got back, there were about 5 minutes till break was over, and we got back to tutoring. During the 2nd half of tutoring, Christina called me over and gave me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/Scan10010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/Scan10010.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sure, the spelling is pretty awful (tecker = teacher), and the drawing makes me look like some Play-Do ... thing, but when she gave this to me, I felt both good and bad. I felt good that she was so happy because of my small 30 cent-worth gesture, but I felt bad that I was the only friend she had at that pastel purple walled prison. Another day, during break time, she came into my room with a smile on her face..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Christina: Teacher. I brought chips today, and they're all gone. Everyone ate them.&lt;br /&gt;Me: .. Oh.&lt;br /&gt;Christina: Everybody liked them. Now I know what chips they like. *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;Me: .. Oh, that's cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor girl. She doesn't realize that everyone is just using her for her food. I think the reason why I feel bad isn't just because it's sad, but she reminds me of myself when I was younger. A lot. You all know that I hated Liberty Baptist School, the shithole I went to from preschool to 6th grade, and most of you roughly know why. I guess I want to save that girl from being a depressed, resentful bitch later in her life, like me. -_- Anyway, I was considering getting a different job cuz I didn't like the circumstances of this one (can't work overtime or on weekends, can't get extra shifts, etc.), but now I think I'm actually kinda needed. Being needed holds me back. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than work, I have no actual plans for the whole summer. However, in about 3 days (Monday), I'm going to Japan for a week. Random, eh? I'm going with my Japanese class. It's gonna be awesome. I'd plot out the whole agenda, but it's damn long. I'll just save it for when I come back. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is when I first meet my host family. I'll have to introduce myself, give them gifts (Doesn't sound bad, right? Wrong. Giving gifts takes about 5-10 minutes with Japanese people cuz of their damn honorable manners.), and getting myself settled. Otherwise, it should be fun. Look forward to the update on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else to blog about, that, and I don't care cuz it's taking me forever to do this post cuz I'm doing other stuff, so I'll just end it here with a list of my summer plans. Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-learn how to cook at least 5 dishes well&lt;br /&gt;-run tons&lt;br /&gt;-get a lot better at badminton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-get free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-go to the beach&lt;br /&gt;-save $1,000&lt;br /&gt;-get back to at least the level of piano skills i had when i left&lt;br /&gt;-hose down those damn birds outside my house&lt;br /&gt;-roadtrip to SoCal (unlikely, I know)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-114989250163145972?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/114989250163145972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=114989250163145972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114989250163145972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114989250163145972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/06/summers-here-update-time.html' title='Summer&apos;s Here; Update Time'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-114887919144303795</id><published>2006-05-28T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T22:06:31.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sundays</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;John Coltrane - Everytime We Say Goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sundays, I feel so lazy, eager, aware, lost.. it all just dissolves together and I get really dull, calm, and pretty emotionless. Today, it's another one of those "Now would be a good time to have a boyfriend" moments. There's someone in particular, but eh. It's strange though, I barely even liked this person, but I still miss them anyway. I guess it's cuz of the lack thereof that I notice how convenient it was. Not just "convenient," but just nice in general. It wasn't serious, but I guess I got a little attached anyway. I also think it's the fear that no one can like me. I don't even know why this person liked me, if they did at all. Er, let's say, I don't know why they were interested at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just find it interesting how in such little time, there's already things that pop up to remind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have horrible timing. My birthday? Erg.. this sucks. I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's only a couple weeks till I go to Japan. I expect it to be fun, but I'm just scared of talking to my host's family. For 3 days, I'll be staying in a hotel with the class, but for 4 days, I'll be alone with a Japanese student and his/her family. One thing that makes me worry most is how I'll be showering. I think I can manage with the bucket and water faucet, but I will probably take a long time. I hate taking long showers at people's houses, or in this case... baths?, cuz I feel like I'm being a bother. What if I can't eat their food? I think I should be okay, but what if they bust out the eel or something? I've never eaten eel before, I don't think. I'd just eat it to be polite, but what if I try and I eat it wrong or I can't swallow it? Ahh. I think the general fear is not to be rude. That'd kill. Some people are worried about us running into tsuyu season (rainy season in the Asian area.. rain, heat, humidity, blah blah), but I actually want to experience it. It seems interesting. And if you know me, I love rain. I love walking/ running in it, so tsuyu would actually be interesting for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I totally forgot this window was open, and I'm too lazy to blog now. Later days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-114887919144303795?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/114887919144303795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=114887919144303795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114887919144303795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114887919144303795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/05/sundays.html' title='Sundays'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-114637854779335085</id><published>2006-04-29T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T23:52:12.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need To Stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;This Day and Age - History is Falling for Science&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After going to Eastridge with my mom today, we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; ate at In-N-Out. I told my mom to get a table, and when I found her after getting a drink, I wished I chose the table and she got the drink. She chose a table next to a couple of girls who were talking loudly and it wasn't a nice place to relax, which was what my mom had in mind cuz only I was eating, but she wanted to eat-in anyway to just hang out. While my mom and I were eating and talking abo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ut summer and trips (Japan :D, possibly Europe next year, L.A. this year cuz of my uncle and his family, blah), I constantly heard the girls next to me cursing and... just being stupid. For example, they were talking about.. iono, probably making out or something, and they were talking about how their lips were big in a positive way. I looked over and saw one pouting her lips and using her hands to make them poutier as she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; talked about how they weren't thick, but they were nice or something (many "or something"s cuz I didn't exactly want to listen, but how could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I not when they were saying it for everyone to hear and I was right next to them?). Man, how self-centered can people get? I tried to just keep talking to my mom to tune them out (and hopefully mute them for my mom), but contantly, they kept talking aloud about boys, how they drink (and drive simulaneously. Idiots.), how they do drugs, etc. I really should've just moved, but I don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. I just didn't. *shrug*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want to be racist, but whenever I run into this kind of stuff... well, how can I not be? It's always the same people. I'm not saying only this ra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ce of people get drunk and get high, but only this race of people talk about it so stupidly. (I heard a part about how one of them drove home drunk, got home drunk, and talked to her parents drunk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stupid.) Or, maybe it's just that only this race can manage to piss me off so damn easily. (I was annoyed prior to looking at them, but right when I looked at them, it just justified both my feeling of annoyance and my racism.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I got my passport today. FUCK! WHY CAN'T PE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;OPLE GET MY NAME RIGHT?! IT'S FUCKING MICHELLE THIEN H&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;UO&lt;/span&gt;NG D&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;UO&lt;/span&gt;NG! How the fuck do you mess that up? What's more, how the fuck do you mess up only my middle name, but not my last name? My name appears as "Michelle Thienhoung Duong." And since when did my middle name become one word? Can't they see the fucking space in between?! Jeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. I think I'm pissed cuz AP's are this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;RAWR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yamapi &lt;3&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/Yamapi04.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-114637854779335085?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/114637854779335085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=114637854779335085' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114637854779335085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114637854779335085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-need-to-stop.html' title='I Need To Stop'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-114578460940766637</id><published>2006-04-23T02:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T21:56:47.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Alive</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Ken Oak Band - The Biggest Problem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(Check them out at &lt;a href="http://www.kenoakband.com"&gt;www.kenoakband.com&lt;/a&gt; and buy &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Symposium&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it's been a very long while since I've updated this thing. Spring break's a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;lmo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;st over, and I'm not gonna try and update for the past months. I'll just post about what I've done this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Almost every day, I went to tutoring for Calc AB at school (so much for spring break, e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;h?) to do multiple packets and such. It wasn't that bad since we &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;were only doing hw and doing it at our own discretion (at least for the most part). The only crap thing was how long it really took. By the end of it, everyone was just sick of math. Even multiply&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ing was strictly out of the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010021.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010021.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last Friday, when spring break first started, I went ho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;me to sleep while everyone went out. I was sick (and still am a bi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;t) and tired, but I woke up later and met them up at a park where we played at a p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;layground. After, we went to Milpitas Golf Land. It's been very long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I played the motion sensor games, of course, inclu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ding Para Para&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010034.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Paradise. I failed after Popteen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Shameful, I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;indy and I tried finding the DDR machines, but we could only find &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;this rip of DDR, In The.. something 2. I don't remember, but it sucked. Death to it. On our way out, we spotted the DDR machines in the food area. We didn't expect it to be there. Tricky bastards. After that, we went to Chris' and just hung &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hmm.. Tuesd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ay, I asked some people to go swimming at Chris' apartment. When we finally got in, it was ICE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;COLD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010005.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We didn't swim for even 10 minutes. I so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;rt of got used to it, but I was still pretty cold, so I got out, and we all en&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ded up just playing some games a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nd doing nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; After, I went to Eastridge with Chris and Kenneth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; then did some more nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday was the BBQ. We couldn't think of any nice parks with BBQ grills, so we ended up going to Lake Cunningham. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010032.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hated that place, and after the BBQ, I hate it more. To get to our table, you had to cross a field of mud, geese, geese crap, water, and fruit fly infested mud and geese crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; The picnic itself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; was okay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We finally decided to get out of there and play at a nice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;park.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We went to the park we went to on Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010027.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010027.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; and after some water balloons, had a fun gam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e of football. It was girls vs. boys, tackle. We didn't really tackle each other though, it was more.. just jumping on each other, I guess. It was fun though. I didn't eve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n do that much, but I managed to get two bruises on my right a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;rm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;(You can't really see it in the picture, but eh.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; The one on my forearm, I got from trying to block/ kinda stiff-arm Kenneth, and the other is a mystery. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010095.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The next day, I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sore, like everyo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ne else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I was still sore till Friday, but I think I'm fine to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;day. After, we went to my house, but I fell asleep. When I woke up, they were ready to leave. I'm a horrible host, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Friday, Kim and I went to SJSU to watch The Ken Oak Band perform at Relay for Life. It was a free show. Before they performed, there was a hip-hop group. They were alright, I guess, but I wasn't really paying attention, so blah. When we first got there, I spotted Ken Oak, the singer, cellist, and other guitarist. I tried to talk to him, but I didn't know if I was bothering him and I was pretty nervous, so I just said I'd come watch him later and left. Of course I left &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; taking a picture with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When we took the picture, he sort of fell/ leaned o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n me. I realized he had a cane to support him and help him walk. I didn't get to ask him what happened though. At the start of the performance, it was just these two guys, Kim, and I. The guys were wearing brown and Kim and I were wearing green. We could've made a tree. :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;D I talked to the guy next to me. He seemed nice, but when I asked if he'd sing along, he said he wasn't a bopper. I don't think that's bopper o_O. And he actually did sing along later. Pretty silly. During the performance, he was switching from his guitar to the cello (or was it the other way around..), and he sort of landed on his leg I guess, and I noticed him wince. He had to pause for a while, then he started to play. Must've been bad, whatever his injury was, but I saw no cast. Anyhow, their show was really good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;(I like the picture of them performing cuz they're both really into it :D)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It matched the weather. It was off and on sunny, but calm. At one point, it was sprinkling while it was sunny. It was real movie-like weather, and their music is very mellow, so Kim and I were &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;really just enjoying the whole show. I think one of my favorites was the first song they performed, "Summer Kisses," which is to be on their next album. It was about stars, galaxies, sky, stars, and stars. :D Just a lot of pretty lyrics. Ken Oak sang so prettily and I just kept watching him during the cello solos. He's really passionate when he plays, and this was just at a show with not even 10 people attending. Ed Gorski, the main guitarist who is left-handed, was the more comedic of the two during the performance. They're both pretty hot, talented, passionate, and just nice. At the end of the show, it was pretty much just those two guys, Kim, and I. People came and went in between, but at the end, it was pretty much just the four of us. After the show, I got to talk to Ed a bit and we took a picture. I didn't get to talk to their booking guy, Pete, but he's nice too (e-mail). Kim and I didn't have anywhere to go before the Key Club convention, so we stayed a bit. There was a l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ady showing people how to swing dance. By that point, Kim and I were known as the "two girls in green" or "the St. Patrick girls" or something. I don't know, but people needed partners and they also wanted more people to join in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; We just weren't up for it, I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/200/P1010009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even Ed told us to go swing as he was putting away equipment. Maybe I would've if I got to swing with Ed, but nah. I was still sore that day too. After a while, we left and headed for convention. We ended up just going up to our friends' hotel room. We ate their food and watched a movie while they were at convention, then Tracy, Dan, Kenneth, and Sarah snuck out. We hung out, Victoria came, we played a game of "I've never.." (1st: Sarah, 2nd: me, 3rd: Victoria; we were supposed to give them a dare, but the losers tried to reverse it on us and said that since we didn't do anything, we should be given the dare, so it ended with nothing being done by either sides), the rest of the people got out, hung out, Larry Bach came, hung out, got in trouble for being loud, dropped Larry off at his hotel, played Cranium, and went home. I got home at about 1:30 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I woke up at 3 PM after going to sleep at 5 AM (yeah, I shouldn't be blogging at 2 AM -_-), did some homework, and watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Silent Hill&lt;/span&gt;. It was pretty bad. I laughed at the corny, redundant lines, the simply stupid lines, and the bad acting. I think I jumped once, and that was relatively in the beginning. It was just when Rose, the mother and main character, tripped on a sewer cover or something. That was pretty much it. -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm blogging. My spring break was pretty good overall. I'm content with it as it is, but I'm not content with how the end is coming. =( I hate school. I won't ever, ever love it. Tch. I may miss high school when I'm out, but I still won't love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I should go sleep and dream of Ken Oak Band, not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Silent Hill&lt;/span&gt;. =( Sure, it wasn't exactly scary, but I don't like monsters nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll update soon after this, but check if you please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-114578460940766637?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/114578460940766637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=114578460940766637' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114578460940766637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/114578460940766637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Alive'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113886719136145177</id><published>2006-02-01T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T16:10:51.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;The Like - June Gloom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(This song makes me wanna just... scream)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's already February. Crazy. I hate how time goes by. T__T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates, updates. It's currently the season of Tet, as you probably already know. I didn't do anything. I went to church, and that's pretty much it. Boo. I don't know what's new.. actually, there's nothing. x_x Well, Duy's gonna be here for around a month coming this Friday. It's good since usually he only spends a week or something here then &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;has to go back. Good stuff. Oh, I've started a little project. I'm trying to get the hang of vectors, and I have one in the works, but it's not from scratch. It's from an original picture. I'll put it up here once it's done. The main part of it's done, but it's not complete. Here's what a vector looks like:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/VC_Intro_-_Digital_Threads.gif.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/VC_Intro_-_Digital_Threads.gif.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(CREDITS TO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" class="u" href="http://novenarik.deviantart.com/"&gt;novenarik&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; @ DEVIANTART) That's a very nice example of one, but it can get to simpler forms. Vector art actually does involve vectors, for you math-Physics junkies thinking this. It involves lines and all that crap. I just like the effect. Man, I wish I was an awesome artistic person, but I'm not. Maybe I can be with photo. We'll see. I just can't draw or make something up, but I think that I have an okay eye for spotting things out. Blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've been hating Photo. That class is so... repetitive and boring, but recently, I've rediscovered my love for photography. Sure, the class still sucks, but I'm going to try and be more creative with my assignments and see if I can have fun with it. You can't take the cameras off campus, so it's hard, especially when you go to a school like Silver Creek and not Evergreen. I'm one of those.. urban/ architectural photographers. I like finding odd ways to look at structures, but Creek doesn't have much variety with structures. -_- Well, I'm still gonna do that shit. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else..... I really feel like giving up, like trying is useless. Eeegad... I know it's bad, but I just... gah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FANTASTICS. It's pretty good this year. People are cooperating, getting along. No fights yet, though I had a small one. Meh. I don't even know the storyline, honestly, but the general topic is Ancient Civilizations (formerly Ancient Cities, but got changed, so I think we totally copied EVHS. Oh well.). Seniors - Greece, us Juniors - Atlantis, Sophomores - Egypt, Freshmen - ...China. Haha. It feels like I posted something about this already. Blah. I think we're all idiots for not choosing Japan. I think that's better than all of them, but Egypt's pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badminton is a no-no. The gym's all messed up from that day with 90 mph winds, but even before that, I decided not to join. I'm fed up with being on the team, and the team itself. They can fuck themselves. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling pretty... x_X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want some noodles. I don't know what else to update, so later. I really should just sleep. Bood &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113886719136145177?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113886719136145177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113886719136145177' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113886719136145177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113886719136145177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/02/february.html' title='February?!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113807649167475190</id><published>2006-01-23T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T20:22:55.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And That's All I Need</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Lately I've been thinking so strangely about the clouds. And how they seem to slowly fade away, yeah. Maybe someday we will find a way to disappear, just me and you on silver lining dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna rain. I think on Tet too. I like rain, but I hate wind + rain. I hate school + rain cuz the school always gets huge puddles and super muddy. I love you + me + rain. I don't love Tet parades + tons of people + rain. I love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;. =&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't. Oh, I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113807649167475190?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113807649167475190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113807649167475190' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113807649167475190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113807649167475190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/01/and-thats-all-i-need.html' title='And That&apos;s All I Need'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113749392139163689</id><published>2006-01-17T01:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T02:37:42.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay for the Unknowns!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Like - Too Late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I love this song. I imagine girls rocking out to it in ballet. It'd be awesome if this kinda song was the song to dance to for the "all girls dance" in FANTASTICS. And you know there's always one that's at least mainly meant for girls. Some might argue it's too slow, but I think slower songs aren't that much more difficult to make a routine to.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's semester break, which means a 4 day weekend. Therefore, I don't have school tomorrow, which I didn't know until going out with some people today. Otherwise, I'd be sleeping, dreading tomorrow's return to hell, but no! I found out I don't have school! Yay. It's so much better that I didn't know and found out. Now, I'm so happy, but this won't last a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's been going on lately?... Finals. That's all that needs to be said. ='[ The awful breakdown of my grades for this semester without the +/- cuz I don't know them (ughhhhhhhhhhhh. Mak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;es me want to stab my eyes out.):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;APUSH - B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;APCalc AB - D..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;APEng Lit - B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Physics - A (not sure cuz of the final..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Japanese - B.........................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Photo - A.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm mostly disappointed with my Japanese grade, surprisingly. It should be an A, but I guess I realized too late how much I actually didn't know. I herefore vow to do at least 3 assignments of hw a week, and to .. DUN DUN DUN! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;STUDY&lt;/span&gt;! Yes. I no longer rock your world Japanese-wise. =[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things.. hm. Not much has happened, I guess. I think I've been getting pretty emotional lately. I don't know. Maybe the stress from finals got to me.. I don't know. I just feel pretty worthless sometimes. I don't hate living, but my life would be put to better use if I gave it to someone else. Whenever I think this, it makes me want to try more and more not to be so fucking pathetic. To anyone who reads this, please motivate me. I don't really like talking about this stuff, but just knowing that someone supports me in my attempt to be a better person, it'll make me try harder and it'll remind me of what I'm trying to do. I don't know. Say, "Fuck yeah, Michelle!" or something. A heart in there wouldn't hurt. =T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today was the first time this weekend we went out. Crazy, huh? We went somewhere Friday, but it doesn't really count. Today, we went to the lake after stopping by Lunardi's, then to Q-Cup (dang fobs.. I thought the cigarette smoke would smother me to death.), then made our way around to pick up Lisa,  and lastly to Victoria's to watch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love Me If You Dare&lt;/span&gt;. I liked it for the most part, but as it neared the end, it got too fucking insane. Crazy bitches. I liked the first half though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hrm.. anything else that's happened since I last blogged? Oh. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; don't have my iPod. I called Apple today, and they said that I have to wait cuz they're going to put a tracer on it now and e-mail me every three days, and if nothing happens, I'll get a replacement. Grrr. It's taking forFUCKINGever. =/ I spend forever on the computer just listening to music. x_x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other small updates: oppa's coming back to the states (in fact, he's on his way already); I somehow ridiculously owe someone something that shouldn't be paid till a long while from now; I'm pretty set on trying out for Japan Bowl; I have been thinking of things I shouldn't be thinking... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and now, I'm just rambling on to try and get things to put in here. Blah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/HEART.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/HEART.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Comment. Leave some love. I &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;heart &lt;/span&gt;the love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; (That's a heart..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113749392139163689?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113749392139163689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113749392139163689' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113749392139163689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113749392139163689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/01/yay-for-unknowns.html' title='Yay for the Unknowns!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113610874725660017</id><published>2006-01-01T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T21:22:14.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Only Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Architecture In Helsinki - The Owls Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(Good times with this one)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be out with friends, but I chose to stay home. Why? My dad's sick, and of course John's gonna have to go out himself, so I did't want to leave my mom home alone, but I couldn't stand just sitting and watching TV any longer, so I thought I'd work on homework, like I'd planned. It is now the new year, but what's the point? You don't get a day off on the eve or on the day of. It's just another reason for people to get drunk and touch each other, in my opinion. I guess everyone just likes to partay, so it's just another reason to have something to celebrate, but what are we celebrating exactly? A new year with new possibilities? The fading of bad memories? I really have no idea what's so important. I guess it just helps with closure and transition, but what's mostly odd &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;for me&lt;/span&gt; is that I have to go to church on New Year's Eve. This is not a religious holiday at all. I'm not griping about going to church today cuz I normally have church on Saturdays, but otherwise, I'd have to go to church twice. It is only an hour since it isn't important, but why have church for New Year's anyway? It is the least bit religious. Man, it is the opposite of holy, if anything. I just don't understand. I guess it's to thank God for "a great year," and to pray for "another great year of serving Him." I have no clue. Anyway, I thought, what's the point in it for me? I always thought it was useless, but I thought about it more, and good things happened. Memories are the only reason I would partake in celebrating. On New Year's Eve, I can look back on everything I loved most, which I will do now, but on New Year's. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;BESTS,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; imo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Out:&lt;/span&gt; There's so many, like karaoke, when we all just sang in Cindy's car though we initially planned to hang out &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;outside&lt;/span&gt; at the lake, our car chase; but one that still stands out has to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the interesting day spent with Tracy, Chris, and Victoria&lt;/span&gt;. I think we first were at Chris' with Dan, Lisa, and Cindy, but they had to leave. Then we went to what I think is a shiekh(sp?) temple in the hills. We hung out around sunset, then went to get ice cream at.. I think it's a Marble Slab. The workers thought we were loitering, I think. We got a banana split or some sundae and shared. It was good stuff. Then we went to the basketball courts at Creek. It was a windy, windy day. We sat on the bleachers and talked about interesting stuff: religion, point in life, etc. That's when I saw the world as flat and understood why people would think it's flat. I don't know how to explain it, but how the clouds moved in the sky was crazy. Tracy thought it was mind-blowing too. :D It was just interesting.. the stuff we talked about, how we spent such an awesome day. I like just talking cuz it shows you just how great your friends are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Movies:&lt;/span&gt; This is going to be hard, but I'm going to try and think of all the good movies I've seen this year and list them. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Crash, Saving Face, Jarhead, Thumbsucker, Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire, Brokeback Mountain, March of the Penguins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (reminded by Tracy)&lt;/span&gt;,... and I'm clueless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dramas:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korean - My Name Is Kim Sam Soon&lt;/span&gt;. That's an ultimate love. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Japanese - Stand Up!&lt;/span&gt; I love Japanese dramas cuz they're different than Korean ones and how everyone somehow has cancer. Another reason why I love My Name Is Kim Sam Soon. Sure, someone had cancer, but they already recovered from it by the time they're in the drama. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Album: &lt;/span&gt;There were a lot of upsets for me this year: Coldplay, Switchfoot, Weezer, agh. Not all CDs this year were horrible though, including &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stars' Set Yourself On Fire&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not sure if I like Heart more, but that's not 2005 anyway. I never heard all of Hot Hot Heat's Elevator, but the parts I've heard are good, but since I never heard it all (hint hint), I can't say it's the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day In:&lt;/span&gt; My favorite day at home would have to be.. I don't know, but the most recent one I can remember that was okay was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;when Duy came to visit&lt;/span&gt;, since that's rare. *shrug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Book:&lt;/span&gt; I didn't really read any this year, but I think it would have to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;East of Eden&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Sure, it was assigned, but I really liked that book. I also liked &lt;u&gt;The Rice Room&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trends:&lt;/span&gt; Just throwing this one in, but not even I'm sure which I like. I guess, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fitting clothes for guys&lt;/span&gt;. Not skin-tight, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fitting&lt;/span&gt;. Man.. whenever I see guys with tight-ass clothes on, and it's not just emo guys and their ugly pants, I cringe. For example, take that one Asian guy... you all know who I'm talking about. The one that used to make me laugh everytime I saw him. You know the one. Yeah... he's horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TV Show:&lt;/span&gt; Hmm, I don't watch TV anymore. *think think*... Uhh.. I don't know. I think the only thing I really watch is cartoons cuz that's what's on when I first get home. I watch for a bit, then do homework. Then the best cartoon has to be.. man, Foster's, Fairly Oddparents, or Jimmy Neutron? I'd have to go with.... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foster's?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Radio Station:&lt;/span&gt; The one in my head. Radio can burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music Video:&lt;/span&gt; I don't really know of any, but one I really recall is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stars' Ageless Beauty&lt;/span&gt;. It had the galaxy and stuff. Pretty~. Now that I think about it, Switchfoot's Stars wasn't too bad either, but whatever, I don't want to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;School Moment:&lt;/span&gt; There's probably many more better ones than this, but after thinking about Stars, I remembered a classic moment in Japanese class. Tracy, Cindy, and I were anticipating Stars' and Death Cab for Cutie's concert. We kept singing Stars - Your Ex-Lover Is Dead, but we sang it so much that it started to wear off and we forgot how it started. Cindy hid herself in her backpack and listened to her iPod just to hear it. She got it, and we three whisper-sang it. Man, we love singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Period of Time:&lt;/span&gt; There's always a period of time where everything's just great. The best was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;when we went out almost everyday&lt;/span&gt;, school day or not, and just hung out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Website&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (remembered from talking to Kenneth)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; This one. :D J/k. I don't know.. video.google.com? *shrug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much out of bests, but let's do..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;WORSTS,&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;imo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Out:&lt;/span&gt; This is&lt;/span&gt; not even questionable! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WHEN WE FOUND OUT TC TEA WAS CLOSED DOWN AND REPLACED BY FUCKING WU'S!&lt;/span&gt; As if that wasn't disappointing enough, that pho place! AGH! I love pho, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't enjoyable since I didn't want pho, but rather TC Tea. T___T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Movies:&lt;/span&gt; I'm not really sure if there's any &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;worst &lt;/span&gt;movie, but the most recent one is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe&lt;/span&gt;. Sure, I love the books (at least the ones I read), but the movie. Yes, I know it's a children-aimed movie, but the acting. Good god, the acting. Lucy, that constantly crying little girl, seriously thinks she can help in a war with leopards, lions, fauns (half men, half horse or something), polar bears, and people who actually know how to fight? Sure, if she had heat sensing missiles or something, then that's understandable, but with that puny blade? And there was a MATRIX SCENE! ARE YOU FUCKING ME?! It wasn't a horrible movie, but I just have my gripes about it. The plot was a little weak. The book was good, but the movie was a little boring at first (it's just the intro..), then it drags, and the battle scene didn't help at all like I'd hoped, and I just wished it would end. Note, as it says above, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;imo&lt;/span&gt;: in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dramas:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korean - Loveholic&lt;/span&gt;. I've seen maybe one episode, so maybe it gets better, but their teacher can fight. I also scanned a later episode, and she fights side by side with her lover. That just doesn't appeal to me. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Japanese - none&lt;/span&gt;. I haven't seen a bad one yet, but I haven't really seen any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Album (Upsets): &lt;/span&gt;Ahhh yes. This will go by how much it upsetted me because I know there are much more albums I'd hate more, like Good Charlotte, Simple Plan, etc. (I don't even know if they released new albums, but if they did, that's automatic hate.) So the big upset of the year, for me, was probably &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Switchfoot&lt;/span&gt;. It got way too blatantly Christian and could no longer appeal to the masses; just the Christians. Their single, Stars, was pretty good, but that's the only song I liked. The rest... gah. I regret downloading it even. Coldplay's X&amp;Y is tolerable when you're not thinking about it, and I like Fix You, but it was really upsetting. Weezer's Make Believe really upset me cuz it was really nothing to compare to the Green or Blue Albums. I do like more than one song though, so it wasn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; bad. There's probably others that I can't think of... oh! Never mind! It's not Switchfoot anymore.. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The All-American Rejects!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; That was INCREDIBLY disappointing. I didn't really expect much from Switchfoot, but it's worse than those others I listed cuz I only liked one song, but The All-American Rejects. I expected GREAT things from them. I LOVED their old album to bits! When their new album, which I don't even know the title of, released, it was a huge bummer. Their style totally changed and not even one song was good. AGH! T_____T DAMMIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day In:&lt;/span&gt; Other than the days where I was miserably sick or had to stay home and do homework, it would have to be... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;when I chose to give up&lt;/span&gt;. That was pretty... bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Book:&lt;/span&gt; I didn't really come across any bad books this year, but the worst, though I didn't even get past the first chapter, was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Moby Dick&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. This was also assigned. Sure, it's an American Classic or whatever because of its symbolism, but man, what an annoying book. The characters were annoying or just strange. The chapters were funky and too random. Gah. It's like &lt;u&gt;To Kill A Mockingbird&lt;/u&gt;, which I like, but that first half has nothing to do with anything. The first half was still good reading, but it just makes you think,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Get to the fucking point!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trends:&lt;/span&gt; Since I already mentioned what I don't like for guys, I'll pick on female fashion. I think the worst would have to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;those damn tunics&lt;/span&gt;. Is it a shirt, is it a dress? Make up your fucking mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TV Show: &lt;/span&gt;First, I'll go by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;upsets&lt;/span&gt;. Sadly, the first thing that comes to mind is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gilmore Girls&lt;/span&gt;. I love Gilmore Girls, but this new 6th season is the pits. Get it away. =[ Okay, for the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;actual worst show&lt;/span&gt;, again, imo. It has to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laguna Beach&lt;/span&gt;, man. Sure, it's partially because I don't exactly love white people, but man, these are exactly the type I hate. They can't stand not shopping 24/7, they make drama and get flustered when it's their own fault,.. I don't even know what this show is, but it is fucking horrible. I watched part of one episode, and I had to change the channel. Quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Radio Station:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wild 94.9&lt;/span&gt;. 'Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music Video:&lt;/span&gt; (I think this is 2005..) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Any Yellowcard video&lt;/span&gt;. They're all bad. Even the one they chose for their DVD (Breathing-Live Version) was a bad choice. (GO WONGFU!) The worst is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Only One&lt;/span&gt;, and I LOVE that song, but what is this with gas, a random girl Ryan(?) seems to be singing to, random dancing people, blah. It makes no sense, it drags, and never gets better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;School Moment:&lt;/span&gt; Also in Japanese. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Any moment where Mr. Hall is being stupid&lt;/span&gt;, which comes in various shades! We have bragging, lecturing over something trivial and stupid, bragging about someone else over something trivial and stupid, his constant talking (both in Japanese and in English! :D), being stubborn (lots in stock!), cutting Japanese Final Project groups down to 5 people, deciding on that stupid scoring system, and many, MANY more! Those are even worse than getting frustrated in Calc, being bored out of my mind in Physics, or being picked apart in English. I would say when my money got stolen, but I didn't find out till I was at home, so that doesn't really count as a school moment. Still, those fuckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Period of Time:&lt;/span&gt; It would have to be between The Insane Period and The Age of Sensitivity. I think it would have to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Age of Sensitivity&lt;/span&gt;, cuz that actually inflicted some.. pain. ^_^;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Website:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MYSPACE&lt;/span&gt;! Burrrnn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, friends, I bid you a Happy New Year. Be sure to comment. &gt;=[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113610874725660017?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113610874725660017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113610874725660017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113610874725660017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113610874725660017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2006/01/only-point.html' title='The Only Point'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113428135995099521</id><published>2005-12-10T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T22:09:20.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Latest Obsessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lovedrug - Spiders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(can't stop listening to it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been obsessing over some stuff lately, like this song. I keep listening to it over and over. When the chorus gets strong, I imagine jumping off a building head first, and just falling. It's not a song you commit suicide to, but rather, the chorus makes me feel like flying, kinda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/09.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've also been watching a lot of k-drama lately. Just one in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; particular, really: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Lovely Kim Sam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Soon (My Name Is Kim Sam Soon). Good stuff, man. I'm almost done with the series. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I've also been looking up a lot of pictures of the guy from MLKSS, Jin Hyun(?) (real name: Hyun Bin). Wa~! So.. hot. x_x Yah, I'm one of the rare Asian girls who actually like Asian guys, it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I guess these aren't obsessions as much as they are complaints. I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe&lt;/span&gt; yesterday. I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/14.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;really looking forward to it... what a disappointment. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do not watch it. If you want to watch it, download it.&lt;/span&gt; I was actually anticipating its end. Ugh. I won't say &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;anything since I bet people will still go watch it, but yes, it's fucking horrible. Disney... curse you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had another small obsessive complaint, but I forgot it as I thought of that movie. -__- Terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113428135995099521?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113428135995099521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113428135995099521' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113428135995099521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113428135995099521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/12/latest-obsessions.html' title='Latest Obsessions'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113368575959487506</id><published>2005-12-04T00:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T20:40:18.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Younger As I Age</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do As Infinity - Aurora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; DOA!) The guitar for this = love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was preparing for tomorrow cuz I'm supposed to bring pencils for everyone supposedly. The erasers on my no. 2 pencils suck, so I was digging around for erasers in my desk drawers when I ran into some studio pictures I took back in 8th grade. That was about 3 years ago, and yet, I look older then than now. Well, not really, I guess. I don't know. It just looks so weird cuz it doesn't look like me. Well, it looks like me, but how I look doesn't look li&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ke me... o_O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(I just looked at this again, and my face looks really funny. The shape is.. odd or something. Or maybe it's my smile. o_O) (Ah, I just remembered that it's kinda cuz of these pictures that I hooked up with Warren. KAJI SHIYOU!) It's obvious that I'm a little kid in here (a 13-year-old kid, if I'm guessing correctly), yet I look older. I don't know. You can really tell it's some 8th grader, but I look old too. *Shrug* And yes, the flash is on purpose cuz in this picture, you can really see my ass. &gt;___&gt; Good stuff. Yah.. my hair was longer and highlighted then. I think that's the only reason why I look so different cuz that's the only thing that's actually different. People tell me that as I get older, I look younger. I find that weird, but if you look at my dad, it's crazy. He looks way younger now then when he married my mom. I guess it's genetics? It's really odd. So when I'm 20, I'll look like I'm 10, supposedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah. I wish I were younger. I'm not old, but things were so much simpler when I took this picture. =/ Damn, but I'm pretty happy with how things have changed. Not school-wise, but ... I guess, life-wise. I don't think I've matured by much since I feel that I've been pretty mature since elementary (C'mon. I knew about sex when I was 4). I'm really happy with the friends I have now though. They feel like "The Ones." Haha. But one of them needs to shut up cuz she keeps saying that in one year, we'll split up and never talk again. T__T It's so sad.. I don't want to get older! Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should get to sleep. I have to wake up in 7 hours for my test, and I'm gonna be damn tired and fall asleep during choukai (listening). =___=; Wish me luck! Again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maiasa wa sore mitai dattara, ureshii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd be happy if every morning was like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113368575959487506?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113368575959487506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113368575959487506' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113368575959487506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113368575959487506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/12/getting-younger-as-i-age.html' title='Getting Younger As I Age'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113365075391041277</id><published>2005-12-03T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T00:51:44.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday, Oh, Won't You Be Easy On Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;최승현 - 반딧불이 (The Classic OST)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I have to do all (at least the majority) of my homework cuz later, I have to go to school for our JLPT 2 1/2 hour study (more like cram) session. And tomorrow, I'll be gone all day. Yay.. I'm kinda looking forward to tomorrow. Of course I'm not excited about the test, but more the part where we go out. I'm pretty nervous now, too. I'm pretty nonchalant about it, but last night, I had a dream that I got exactly a 240 or something. I dreamt it was one of our practice tests though. Still, I'm nervous now. &gt;&lt; &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/plans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/plans.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I put a lot of time into this. I should put this kind of effort into school... =___= I don't know what it is. When I plan something, I just do it as detailed as I can. I guess I like being prepared? Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, wish me luck for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113365075391041277?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113365075391041277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113365075391041277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113365075391041277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113365075391041277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/12/saturday-oh-wont-you-be-easy-on-me.html' title='Saturday, Oh, Won&apos;t You Be Easy On Me?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113350289588993831</id><published>2005-12-01T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T21:59:21.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Makes Me Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm doing my essay, and I decide to check my away message. 10 messages from Victoria o_O? What eeeez eeeet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div  style="text-align: left; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: hey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Auto response from Mi  Xao ngon: awkrjyawbkrj wrjk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: i didnt get to tell you my dream today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: me you n lisa were all at some park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: and there was this fence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: and behind it were a bunch of penguins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: and i was wondering why there was no water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: and we were like omg why arent we on the other side of the fence playing with them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: so we walked around the whoel park to get to them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: and we shook their hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;orphanescapie3: it was the cutest dream ive ever had&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed when I read that. That &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; insanely cute. I'd be so happy if we got to do that. I love Victoria. She's had the best dream with me in it so far. Tracy's dream of me a year or so ago was horrible. Everyone died cuz of me; cuz I didn't love Eminem back. &gt;____&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113350289588993831?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113350289588993831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113350289588993831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113350289588993831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113350289588993831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/12/this-makes-me-happy.html' title='This Makes Me Happy'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113341919656840506</id><published>2005-11-30T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T23:03:04.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Full House OST - I Think I (Guitar Instrumental)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I decided to put my Yahoo! account to use and put up some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; photo alb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ums. It's not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hing in comparison to Victoria's, and never will be a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nything to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;compare with since I have such a crappy camera, but I have found a use for it: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;throwing it&lt;/span&gt;. I've decided to give Camera Tossing a try. Here's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;what cam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;on my first attempt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010022.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010028.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010031.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010037.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/P1010047.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/02.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/02.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/03.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/03.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/01.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/01.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Interesting stuff. My dad was watching me the first time, though I told him not to, then he came out and told me that I'm crazy, which I told him that he would think. I guess I shouldn't have said anything, then he would've left me alone, but he kept on trying to make me come inside. He even threatened me and said something like, "I don't like it when you do crazy stuff" as if I were about to go out and sell some weed. Jeez. It's freaking.. stupid. It's kinda crazy, I guess, but look at my camera. It's worth throwing, dammit. And the outcome is nice. =D Yay~! By the way, these are my Christmas lights, in case you didn't realize. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;COMMENTS?!!?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/P1010047.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113341919656840506?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113341919656840506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113341919656840506' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113341919656840506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113341919656840506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-things.html' title='New Things'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113334083490836528</id><published>2005-11-30T00:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T00:59:49.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We've Agreed To The Stupidest Idea Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Mates of State - Goods&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yah, you know how I said that Benihana is the worst idea ever and that if we wanted Japanese food, we could go somewhere authentic? Yah.. so we've decided to go to Benihana. I had nothing to do with this decision, really. I'm not eating dinner because money is a killer, and it kills me oh-so-good. Some people just decided that Benihana would be a good idea since it would be with the class, but man, Benihana still sucks. Oh well, I don't care since I won't be eating and I'll be eating a packed meal in the car on the way back. Cheap? Very. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always end up sleeping late. I don't know how, but I need to find out and fix it. (Yah, I know blogging doesn't help &gt;_&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, still on the topic of JLPT and SF, Robert says that he and his posse (Sean, Tim, and Lawrence) want to come along to karaoke. Note: The other half of our group bailed cuz they suck. Wow, they really suck a lot. I want more people to go for fun, so I don't mind that, but at the same time, would I go all out crazy with them there? I don't talk to any of them except Robert, and even that's a slim amount. I would like to think I'd be myself, but I don't know. I'm the type that gets shy really easily, yet comfortable easily with close(r) friends. Bit of a conundrum. I guess I'm just going to ask the karaoke-goers and see how it weighs out. If you're going and are interested in karaoke, IM me or something. Then I'll tell you yes or no. Haha. Sad, but yes, I don't exactly talk to everyone in my Japanese class. Still, not like anyone reads this. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;COMMENT, DAMN YOU!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;No love for me. =[&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt; Well, even if it's just us 5 girls (we need to pick up some guys at Eastridge or something.. Dx That's horrific.), we'll have mad fun (But really, we need guys. It's a karaoke &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;box&lt;/span&gt;.. this calls for some debauchery ;] though I wouldn't partake in any.. Wow, I really suck too.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to stupid Japanese hw. Wth is Yamanakako?! The inside child (wrong kanji, I know) of the mountain?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the X-chromosome. Burn!&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113334083490836528?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113334083490836528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113334083490836528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113334083490836528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113334083490836528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/weve-agreed-to-stupidest-idea-ever.html' title='We&apos;ve Agreed To The Stupidest Idea Ever'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113298735540658629</id><published>2005-11-25T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T22:43:10.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Tempted, Yes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate Eastridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't do it. &gt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113298735540658629?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113298735540658629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113298735540658629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113298735540658629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113298735540658629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-tempted-yes.html' title='I&apos;m Tempted, Yes'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113289219085492412</id><published>2005-11-24T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T00:38:13.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sou Itta, Kedo..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;30 Seconds To Mars - Attack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/04.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/04.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ppy Thanksgiving, guys. I'm pretty sick of food right now. Dx After our Thanksgiving meal, I was full, but my parents made me eat more, so I was close to throwing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of my Thanksgiving meal, I woke up at noon today and realized our meal was supposed to be at noon, so I went downstairs to see that most everything was ready. I thought that we needed a better side dish though (our macaroni and cheese was the instant kind &gt;_&gt; I guess that's what I get for not helping out). Plus, we only had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt; bottles of cider! NOT ENOUGH! So John and I rushed to Safeway, and we got biscuits (bake yourself), 2 more bottles of cider, and macaroni salad from the deli corner. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;[WARNING! RANT!]&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ohhhh man! If it weren't for John, I would've totally snapped at some little Asian woman. Before that, I was in line, and some chick was talking to her mom in Vietnamese of having to get a pound of something behind me. I didn't notice till she was ordering that she miraculously got from behind me to in front of me. I wasn't sure if she was behind me in line or not, so I didn't say anything. There was a lady next to me in line (they formed a horizontal line) and she was standing next to that girl, so I assumed she was with her. Note: this lady asked John and I while we were in line if there's a line or if we have to get a number ticket. We said it was a line. When the girl left with her pound of something, the lady moved to the right... a little. I thought she was getting out, then she ordered cole slaw. I was like, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WTF?! GET THE FUCK OUT!&lt;/span&gt; I was about to say something, but John told me to let it go cuz it's Thanksgiving. I HAVE TO GET HOME AND EAT TOO, BITCH! Aghhhhh. I was going to say something, but John kept telling me not to and brought up how he got in trouble for speaking up to a cutter at Disneyland by my parents. I said, "Our parents aren't here!" But, he just wouldn't let me. Argh. I was really mad cuz that was the 2nd person to cut, and she ASKED US IF THERE WAS A LINE! ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! I wanted to just smash the bottle of cider over her head. Eeee~! I just let it go, but I was pretty pissed. When we were in the next line to pay for our stuff, she was holding up the line cuz she was asking for extra stuff when she was supposed to order everything in the other line, and she pissed the cashier off too. -__- When she got out of line, I was standing in her way, but I finally let her out. I was thinking of saying something then, but since it was close to just getting out of that place, I didn't do anything. If that was the lunch line at school, I would've said something. -___-;; I wish I said something now, but man.. I don't have the guts to do something about everything. Like last week, there were so many people cutting in line at the lunch line. I've said something before, but that time, I just didn't. I was pissed then, too, that I didn't say anything. Sure, they were huge football guys and Mexican chicks with bad makeu&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;p, b&lt;/span&gt;ut that wasn't why. I've said something to Mexican guys and Asian chicks with no eyebrows who could've totally kicked my ass with their eyebrow pencils, but why couldn't I say anything now? &gt;=[ Argh. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;[/RANT!]&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anyway&lt;/span&gt;, other than that, my Thanksgiving was okay. We had it with Duy and his mom. Interesting, yet kinda odd. My mom gets along with people way too easily. I don't know how she does it. After eating, I just slept till we had to go to church, though I was still tired cuz I had trouble getting to sleep. Now, I'm just blogging. Pretty boring..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a Thanksgiving meal yesterday with Tracy, Kris, Chris, Victoria, Cindy, and Thanh. We didn't cook much, but the things we did.. aiyah. Haha. Cindy and I totally ruined the crescents =D. They looked like little puffs after we baked them. Haha. I totally blamed Cindy and ran out of the kitchen though. Aw. Victoria made green bean casserole, but I only took one bite, and I couldn't eat it. Not that it wasn't good, I'm sure it was... I just couldn't stand the onion. SO MUCH! ONION BOMB! BAKUHATSU! After, we just stayed in my room and everyone slept except for Victoria, Kris, Chris, and me. We watched the last episode of Sad Sonata, and Victoria hated the ending. =] Later, Lisa came and stayed for a bit. After, Duy came and crashed on my couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Friday's tomorrow. I don't know if I'm going shopping or anything. I know my mom will want to, but man.. it's so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;early&lt;/span&gt;. x___x I don't like shopping either. I like getting stuff, but walking around malls and having to search everywhere... agh. I hate the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if much has been going on lately. School is still boring. Photo is getting mucho boring. Japanese has been mucho boring. Blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. I don't think I blogged about this yet, but for JLPT, Santa Monica was cancelled and it's San Francisco now. Still a bummer, but being the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MASTER PLANNER &lt;/span&gt;that I am, we have awesome plans. Dim Sum &gt; JLPT &gt; Ghiradelli Square &amp; Lunch &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Karaoke (box)! &gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dinner. Hah, Mr. Hall planned to go to Benihana. Stupidest idea ever. It's expensive and not that great. Plus, if we want Japanese food, why the hell would we go to franchisey Benihana when we can go to something else in Japantown? Idiot. Well, if people like Benihana, I guess they can do that, but that doesn't go with me. Yah, I kinda wanted to go cuz even if we spent the day together as a class, we'd just separate into groups with our friends, but the dinner would be as a whole class. But it doesn't seem like a good idea anymore, so we quit that. I really wanna go to Santa Monica still, but though I'd rather not believe it, like Tracy said, it wouldn't be as good as the first time. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KNOCK KNOCK! I wanna come in and make you love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113289219085492412?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113289219085492412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113289219085492412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113289219085492412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113289219085492412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/sou-itta-kedo.html' title='Sou Itta, Kedo..'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113201390757899803</id><published>2005-11-14T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T20:20:36.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AGAIN?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Stars - One More Night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I think I'm getting sick again. For the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ird&lt;/span&gt; time. -____________- DAMN YOU, IMMUNE SYSTEM, AND YOUR NOT BEING IMMUNE! FUCKING OXYMORON! Gar. I only have a runny nose, but that leads to coughing. x_x Stars &amp; Death Cab for Cutie tomorrow! Harry Potter on Thursday at midnight! :D Too bad Cindy's not coming with us to Harry Potter cuz she got tickets somewhere else. =/ But yes! I expect it to be a blazin' week. I want it to be a good week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sucked. It's like I'm pregnant. Dx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what else to blog about, but here's another iTunes visual!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/02.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/02.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This one is like the one from last time, but different colors.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think this one's pretty cool. Reminds me of a cup of water with ripples, which makes me think of Jurassic Park.. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tchah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113201390757899803?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113201390757899803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113201390757899803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113201390757899803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113201390757899803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/again.html' title='AGAIN?!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113149502848471782</id><published>2005-11-08T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T16:18:47.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That's HOT!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Tilly and the Wall - Fell Down the Stairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGH! STUMMY ACHE! Why am I so paranoid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; x__x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just made a new buddy icon..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/1f8e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/1f8e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I like the reflection of the clouds in my lenses, but Cindy is just too hot. That pose on anyone else, I'd probably throw up, but this is hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Cindy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Cindy.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bwahhahaha. I hope this works. It's supposed to move..&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;EDIT:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; I guess it doesn't work. The other one works, but it's so huge for some reason. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Click on it to see the right picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm gonna throw up. Dx Stupid banh cuon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113149502848471782?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113149502848471782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113149502848471782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113149502848471782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113149502848471782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/thats-hot.html' title='That&apos;s HOT!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113143794448086247</id><published>2005-11-08T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T20:34:12.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Flash!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Murs - You And I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to sleep, but I kinda wanted to just blog for a second or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been listening to anything but Indie pretty much lately, but I listened to a lot of Hip Hop today. Good stuff, yet bad stuff. I was listening to Kanye West feat. Talib Kweli and Common - Get Em High, which I really like, but I hate Common so mu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ch in there. "Real rappers is hard to find like a remote... control rap is not a used soup it still got love".. Yah, he's just horrible in there. I don't really like him at all, but that's probably the worst I've heard from him. I was listening to lyrics more today. I just noticed today that in Mya - Late, she's talking about how she has yet to get her period and that the guy needs to take responsibility cuz she can tell by her body and that her PMSing (the kind during pregnancy) that she's pregnant. It goes on about how she is usually "on time" with her period. Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Murs is awesome. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get back into &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;knitting&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so obsessed with iTunes' visual effects that I take&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; screen sh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ots. ^^;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/01.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/01.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Purty, neh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo is getting pretty boring, mang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stupid. Not ha-ha stupid (but I can be that too), but actually stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FEAR! &gt;&lt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113143794448086247?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113143794448086247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113143794448086247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113143794448086247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113143794448086247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/11/midnight-flash.html' title='Midnight Flash!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113082861612916267</id><published>2005-10-31T22:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T23:05:20.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Random Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Metric - Handshakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the guitar in here, especially when she goes, "Whoooo" a lot. I love that part altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just felt like posting something..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween... I think I would've rather stayed home, but it wasn't horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iTunes' visual effects is blazin'. I can watch it for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have lipstick on my cheeks from Victoria trying to make it look like blush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My place essay seems odd. It doesn't seem odd till the end though. The LAST sentence. *shrug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tchah. I'm scared. You don't even know. I have no idea either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so full from Popeye's, which wasn't worth it. =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss TC Tea. Fucking Wuji.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to paint my room a different color and move my bed. Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to my haircut? I was supposed to cut it. I feel like changing it up. Suggestions? (No bangs. Some of you might know why..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the Date Rape song so much, but I'd hate to get raped to it. I'd hate to get raped, period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone left their red pen and pencil on my desk, but I'm keeping it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like vacuuming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna sleep in my backyard with my boyfriend. Yeah, I do need to get one first. Damn. Too cold anyway, and much too lazy to get a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to upload that clip of us (rather, you guys) going crazy. Cindy *hart (Stupid Blogger cutting off my hearts)* You're so hot.. Jeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a whole lot more, but it got deleted after the heart attempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113082861612916267?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113082861612916267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113082861612916267' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113082861612916267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113082861612916267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/10/another-random-post.html' title='Another Random Post'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113072811724930669</id><published>2005-10-30T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T19:15:37.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random From Scanning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Metric - Combat Baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just looking at my My Pictures and I have a random folder. I have a folder for screen caps, but I forgot what was in it. I find them pretty funny. (&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;click to enlarge&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/02.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/02.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Note that this person's username is "Platinum"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;EMO-TASTIC, GUYEEEZ! How is this "emo-tastic" anyway? Cuz she's white? And this is a black and white picture? .. And she's white? Man, she sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ah.. I don't remember what forums these are, but yes, people are funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113072811724930669?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113072811724930669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113072811724930669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113072811724930669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113072811724930669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/10/random-from-scanning.html' title='Random From Scanning'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-113039682241515645</id><published>2005-10-26T23:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T00:08:57.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay! We're He-- WHAT?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Fall Out Boy - Grand Theft Autumn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AFTER SCHOOL, WE WERE HEADED FOR TC TEA! YAY! I WAS SO HAPPY! We got lost on the way there, but we managed. We parked the car right in front and everything! :D! YAY! WE'RE HE-- WHAT?! WHERE'S TC TEA?!?!?!?! That's right kids, TC Tea is gone. It's now Wuji's, a breakfast and lunch place that doesn't look too appealling at all. No interesting vegetarian food, no pearl drinks to die for, no drawings of Pokemon on the walls, NOTHING! The walls were repainted a harsh pink, everything was just... aiyah. Cindy had the guts to ask what happened and the lady who seemed to be the owner said that they retired. I'm not sure if they retired or if it was because they never had that much hustle and bustle, but I just felt so disappointed. If they did retire, it makes sense since they were a family business, I guess, but ah! I'M SO DISAPPOINTED! We searched for some place in the area to get pearl drinks or food, but the local Q-Cup was replaced by a Quizno's and there was no restaurant that seemed good. We ended up eating pho.. I was really disappointed and only ate to do something. I didn't want pho, our waiter was annoyingly persistent on us ordering the most expensive pho they had, they were talking crap about us in Vietnamese though some of us could clearly understand, etc. Bad, bad day. That pho place just really messed us up after finding Wuji's. Gah.. things got better on the way home, but it was a bad day, one of the worst I've had in a while. We were just disappointed, wandering in and out of stores, and we were not in the mood for anything we saw. Ahh. I miss TC TEA so much. I wish I went there more often! We got some Tapioca Express, but it just wasn't the same. After, Cindy, Lisa, Tracy, and I took our JLPT practice test to add on to our great day. Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TC TEA, you were the last good thing about this part of town! =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-113039682241515645?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/113039682241515645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=113039682241515645' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113039682241515645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/113039682241515645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/10/yay-were-he-what.html' title='Yay! We&apos;re He-- WHAT?!?!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112901249613296152</id><published>2005-10-10T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T23:39:52.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pictures Are All I Can Feel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Stars - Heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh -- how I love Stars! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SO&lt;/span&gt; close to ditching 7th, my photo class. We've been doing NOTHING in there, so I thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Screw that shit. I wanna hang! =]&lt;/span&gt; Victoria, being the great person she is, dragged me to class even though she doesn't have that class. When I came in, Mr. K started passing out sheets of paper. PHOTO TAKING PASSES! SCORE! Yes! We &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; got to take pictures today! I was so excited (=/ too bad that's not what I'm going to do with my life..). Thanh and I loaded our film, then we were off! We were assigned to take 5 pictures of growth/ nature and 5 pictures of buildings. I had to retake some shots because I forgot to take 2 dead shots to get rid of the fogged film, but this is what i took:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nature &lt;/span&gt;- field, grass with water, trees, more trees, and a shadows of trees (ran out of ideas..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Buildings &lt;/span&gt;- portables, library, ceiling, roof, science building&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I had more exposures, so I also took pictures of - rail, inside of.. some jutting out building.., random building, another random building, lockers, bench, and I think that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I didn't want to waste my film, especially if we got extras! =D! I was really happy. I hope I did it right and I hope they come out right!! When I develop them, I'll probably upload them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got an essay to do and other homework. T___T I HATE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112901249613296152?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112901249613296152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112901249613296152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112901249613296152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112901249613296152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/10/pictures-are-all-i-can-feel.html' title='The Pictures Are All I Can Feel'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112883539320168604</id><published>2005-10-08T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T22:23:13.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Random Post From Being So Bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Metric - Dead Disco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah.. after this weekend, we find out whether or not we actually are going to Santa Monica. Most people who signed up for the JLPT are going to the newly opened test site (open for at least a year though): San Francisco. I understand that there's some people who simply can't afford it, but for example, Tim Terrell (sp?) and Lawrence Cheung aren't going because Tim isn't going and the Lawrence will only go if the Tim does. -___- After school on Friday, we saw Tim walking home and yelled at him from the car to go. He said he'll change it, but who knows. Man.. SAN FRANCISCO IS NO SANTA MONICA! Hall says that it could be the start of a new tradition and blah blah blah, but really, who HASN'T been to SF already? Sure.. it's kinda interesting, but it's no Santa Monica, dammit. We have 20 something people or maybe 30 by now (dunno till Monday), but 30 is minumum. I asked about 29 and Hall said he'd let it slide, but 28 wouldn't work. &gt;&lt; If we get changed to SF, I'm just going to drive to Santa Monica myself illegally and kidnap Lisa, Tracy, Cindy, and Victoria. I'd make it work. YOU KNOW MY PLANNING SKILLS! Yah.. I really wanna go. If we get changed, I'm gonna cry. HOLY SHIT! I JUST REALIZED THAT IF WE HAVE TO GO TO SF, HALL WOULD CHANGE MY SIGN UP TOO! AND TRACY, LISA, AND CINDY! OH NO! O__O!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112883539320168604?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112883539320168604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112883539320168604' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112883539320168604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112883539320168604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/10/another-random-post-from-being-so.html' title='Another Random Post From Being So Bored'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112806406021364303</id><published>2005-09-29T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T00:07:40.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>URESHII YO~!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Stars - Calendar Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAPANESE LANGUAGE PROFICIENCY TEST! I LOVE IT! "Wha? You're excited about a test?! FREAK!" must be w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hat you're thinking of, but no, that's not it. I don't love the test itself really, but the trip to Santa Monica is GREAT! Just looking at the site's FAQ makes me happy! I found my album from last year online. It's blazin'. OH MAN! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! SO MUCH I'M BLOGGING RATHER THAN STUDYING FOR MY TEST AND QUIZZES TOMORROW! I can't wait till we go. It was so fun. I'M S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/attack-of-the-seagulls.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/attack-of-the-seagulls.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;AP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;PY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/GardenRoomA-Alan_Chris2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/GardenRoomA-Alan_Chris2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-group1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-group1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-group3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-group3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/beach2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/beach2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-friedbananadessert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/ThaiRestaurant-friedbananadessert.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/hotel-Tracy_Cindy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/hotel-Tracy_Cindy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/SMPromenade-dinosaurfountain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/SMPromenade-dinosaurfountain.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/hotel-Cindy1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/hotel-Cindy1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/beach-Lisa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/Santa%20Monica%202004/beach-Lisa1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112806406021364303?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112806406021364303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112806406021364303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112806406021364303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112806406021364303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/09/ureshii-yo.html' title='URESHII YO~!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112753538079227912</id><published>2005-09-23T21:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T00:42:42.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alive!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;b face="arial" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Their album, Funeral, is pretty old, but it only got popular recently. I only heard it this year too.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! I'm alive and... kinda well. F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;or those of you who didn't know, I was sick since Friday and still have a cough. I was out of school for two days, but I think I totally pwned that Calculus test other than that one problem. So.. minor pwnage, neh? =D I'M GETTING THAT B-, DAMMIT! Unless Guttal decides to grace us with her Ph D math skills. =[ Yeah.. MAJOR UPDATE SHIMASU! I feel good (just got home from hanging out =] ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Friday... first, we went to Taco Bell! It was Cindy, Lisa, Dan, Victoria, Chri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s, Tracy, and I. After, Cindy and Lisa left while t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;he rest of us went to Chris'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/e935.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/e935.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I forgot what we did there, bu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t I think Dan left at that point. The fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ur of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; us &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;went to that Sh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;iek temple on the hill to look&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t the cloud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s cuz it wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s really cloudy and g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ray that day. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;(I look really short cuz I was trying to stick my ass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; out. har har.. but I am short =/ ) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;After that, we went to Marble Slab and got ice cream. Numm~ pop rocks, nuts, almonds (which are also nuts, but Chris chose to put them in), and raspberries in a banana split with mocha, mint chocolate, and vanilla ice cre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;am. It w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;as good, and the pop rocks surprised me cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; they were good too. OH! I THINK IT WAS AT MARBLE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/aa6b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/aa6b1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;SLAB!:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris: Fatty says what?&lt;br /&gt;Me: *fu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ll mouth* hmm? (didn't unde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rstand)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chris: What? Aw shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Haha. Hilarious. After, we went to Albertson's for Jell-O (we're pigs T-T). We made Chris get it, but he kept lagging. He was sitting on the hood pretending to strip &gt;_&lt;, and when he had his collar hanging on his glasses, a lady came by and he got all shocked and ran off. That was one of the hardest laughs I can recall ever having. While we waited for our dessert's dessert, we drove around the parking lot to confuse Chris when he came back. Victoria didn't have her headlights on, so some nice guy called out to us and said, "Your lights." Cuz he was so nice, we decided to .. go into Alberson's ourselves to look at him. Haha. He wasn't hot, but Tracy didn't see him, and she keeps saying she'll marry everyone. Later, we ate our Jell-O spoonless. I tried sucking it out and using my tongue, but it wouldn't work. Everyone else got it but me =[ . I know all of them have kissed people and I haven't, but jeez. We went to the basketball courts at Creek and laid on the bleachers. The moon was out, but floating through the clouds. =] We had a really interesting conversation on philosophy and all that stuff. It was really windy and cold and we stayed out there till about 10.. and so I got sick! =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday... oh! TET TRUNG THU! We went to the Moon Festival. It took a while, but we got there. We went to one downtown. It was okay.. they needed better booths. We tried to enter in a lantern contest, but the lady said there was only 15 minutes left, so we rushed. LIES! WE SO HAD MORE THAN 15 &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/16aa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/16aa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;MINUTES =[! Yah, we lost. Oh well. After, we ate at Johnny Rockets and hung out downtown. Later,.. I think we went to get pie. We ate it in Cindy's car and just hung out. Blazin' stuff. Tuesday and Wednesday, I stayed home. Good times. =D Yesterday, I came back to school. Not fun. After school, I went to Victoria's for homecoming character tryouts. The theme is Disney. Seniors - Aladdin (I really like Aladdin), we Juniors - Snow White, Sophomores - Mulan, Freshmen - Cinderella. I tried out for a lot of parts cuz I couldn't decide which I wanted to be. I ended up being Happy. =] I'm choreographing the dwarves dance, so I thought being a dwarf would be better, and I did end up being one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I thought I'd totally fail the test in Calc like I did the last 2 (before I took the test, I had an overall 72.8% C). I want that B-! Then anything else I can get after that! In APUS, we had a code red drill. We would've died. Whenever we turned off the lights, some stupid girls would scream. They really were screaming, but... why o_O? It's not even freaky. Ah well. If it were a real one, maybe I'd understand, but it was a drill that Mr. G wanted to do, not the school one. Plus, he told us a day in advance or something. *shrug* In Photo, ... I don't even wanna type it all up, but to sum it up: I accidentally messed up someone's photo paper cuz someone left something from the period before. If they just said something, I would've given them photo paper even though it was an accident cuz it's about 40 cents a sheet. Whatever. Instead, bitch decides to run around the darkroom yelling and whining about her photo paper getting fogged and how she's SO PISSED. Oh no. Her 40 cents. What EVER will she do?! People were asking her who fogged it, and I was just minding my own business, but I assume she pointed at me. I didn't look cuz I don't give a shit. If it's over something like that, come up to me and tell me. This girl.. no one likes her and she craves attention, so she had to get the approval of everyone who thought she was a victim or something before talking to me. Finally, she comes up to me, not even explaining the situation cuz I didn't know, and just asks, "So are you going to give me photo paper?" I asked her for what and she gives me all this 'tude. Biiiiiiiiiitch. Is Michelle gonna have to choke a bitch?! Eh. Not like I could fit my hands around her quintuple chins. So she made a big deal over nothing, ran around whining, and finally asked me. I think that before she even asked me, she messed around with my enlarger, so I kept having to redo what I was working on, wasting even more photo paper in this stupidass, trivial happening. FUCK! I WANNA KILL HER! Yah.. that made me mad cuz people thought I was a total bitch cuz of her. Whatever, but jeez, ALL THAT OVER 40 CENTS WORTH OF PAPER! When I got out of class, oooooooooo!!!! FEAR ME! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;GAH! I JUST DIDN'T WANNA MAKE IT WORSE, BUT I COUL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;D'VE TOLD HER HOW FUCKING STUPID SHE WAS! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She's probably the stupidest person I've ever met, especially for failing Geometry 3 times and still taking it her Senior year. AHHHH! Yah.. let's move on to better things before I develop a new scar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/happy%20bday%20chris2%201341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/400/happy%20bday%20chris2%201341.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO! Chris had his 2nd birthday party today at his house. I got to go to this one even though I still have a cough =]. It was fun. One thing that stands out in my head, especially cuz Victoria just sent me pictures, is when we wore Chris' clothes. Oh god. My outfit was worst. All baby blue sweat set. We had to take a couple pictures to get this right cuz we kept laughing. Jeez. I look like an idiot. AND IT WAS SO HOT IN THOSE! (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;click to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt; enlarge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/happy%20bday%20chris2%201633.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/400/happy%20bday%20chris2%201631.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/happy%20bday%20chris2%201641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/400/happy%20bday%20chris2%201641.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/happy%20bday%20chris2%201652.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/400/happy%20bday%20chris2%201652.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victoria always has her camera ready. Blazin'. At least my day ended well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love comments, except for the spam ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112753538079227912?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112753538079227912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112753538079227912' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112753538079227912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112753538079227912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/09/alive.html' title='Alive!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112623031697630147</id><published>2005-09-08T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T18:45:16.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing At All</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Death Cab for Cutie - I Will Follow You Into the Dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I know everyone likes this song, but I guess I'm just a sucker for acoustic)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;I have pretty much nothing to do. Of course, I could do my last homework then get ahead on other things, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it's just a Thursday&lt;/span&gt;. I thought I had a lot of homework, but I realized our vocabulary is due next week, so I could've went to the free Acceptance concert with Kim and Tracy would've came. =/ Curses. Oh well. Too late for that, I guess. The new OC season premieres today, but I don't watch the OC. *shrug* Just never did. Today is going to be a very boring day..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was boring, as always. There were some interesting things though:&lt;br /&gt;-English isn't about English, I think. It's more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt; like a philosophy class. Blah.&lt;br /&gt;-In Japanese, Hall was saying something about something being easy. I don't remember, but he said it was as easy as addition in elementary and wrote this on the board: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;|+|=2&lt;/span&gt;. Being the stupidass I am, I was thinking, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's not elementary school level! Wtf?! Absolute Value?! &lt;/span&gt;.. Then I find out it's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1+1=2&lt;/span&gt; and it's like, how the fuck do you mess that up? Yah, people laughed at me, but jeez, I seriously thought it meant "absolute value of T equals 2." -___-;&lt;br /&gt;-We made our first photogram in Photo. I don't like mine cuz I put too much on there. I didn't know what to do and I didn't bring anything in, so I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt; practically threw it on th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;ere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/photogram.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/photogram.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;There's my glasses, a penny, a nickel, a pencil, my iPod earbud, and a ruler. If I took out 2-3 things, it might've been better, but it just has too much. Eh, making it was interesting though. I just hate how crowded it is in the darkroom. People just keep the tongs too, and it's like, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dude, you can get it back later. I need it now, dammit.&lt;/span&gt; Also, how everyone just crowds around the wet area... step back and just wait! You have to wait for a couple minutes anyway! Blaaah. Well, that was interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing to do. Jeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to suck at Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112623031697630147?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112623031697630147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112623031697630147' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112623031697630147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112623031697630147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/09/nothing-at-all.html' title='Nothing At All'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112561450947793596</id><published>2005-09-01T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T15:52:58.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Ache</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Tilly and the Wall - Bessa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School. No fun. Mr. G's cool, but most of the time, he's talking about other kinda irrelevant things. Guttal is crazy. I never know exactly what we're doing. We're doing warm-ups, suddenly we're on notes, then we're on homework or something. Ack. I just got frustrated today cuz I got 5/7 on our warm-up/ quiz thing from yesterday. I thought I got a 6, but for the problem asking for intercepts, I did put the one y-intercept, but I didn't say there was no x-intercept. If the problem specifically says to "List the intercepts", I could easily argue that it said nothing about listing the non-existant intercepts. So I got a C on that. Grrr. My English teacher, Voss, is.. interesting. I just like the class cuz I just talk in there. Even when I'm not talking, it's not boring, but I never seem to have homework in that class. I know there's stuff we should be doing outsid of class like keeping a notebook about random things, but Iono, I just never think of it. Then, I have Cervantes&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. He's nice and all, but he jsut keeps talking about irrelevant crap 90% of the time. Although he does find a way to link it together, he just talks too much. He wanted us to have open minds, so he gave us a billion examples of what pre-destination means, although everyone knew what it was already. Even if someone needed and example, one is enough, but he insists on talking and talking. I hate asking him questions cuz I just ask him something simple, and he talks forever about nothing to me -_-. He's.. cool, even if he does have those gay twitches (not gay in a derogatory way, but he does that.. gay twitch that makes me laugh in a totally positive way x_x). And yes, I do know he's gay, but I find it weird cuz why do gay people have to act... gay? But that's going off topic. Japanese... man! That used to be a fun class, but now, he just talks sooo much. I know it's cuz he wants us to get better at listening to the language, but when he repeats everything over and over, I get so bored. I know it's in case we don't understand, but I just sit there in the back, and this is the 2nd to last period of the day for me, so I'm getting tired of just listening and not doing anything. Last year, we got to talk a lot, but we learned effectively. Blah. It's just so boring this year. We finally got to play Kanji Swat today though. I pwned the other person.. for once. -__-; Last, and probably least, Mr. K. He's cool and all, no doubt about that, but it's so boring. We just sit there and.. pretty much do nothing or wait for him to regain his memory. &gt;&lt; That's pretty much how my school day goes every day. If not for us going out during the school days, I'd probably be dead to the world by now. Thank God we have Labor Day Weekend. What's awesome is that new policy: For every Monday off, the Friday previous will be a mini day. So we have a mini day this Friday. =D Good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My heart hurts a lot lately. No, not the corny emotional way, but seriously, it hurts. It gets tight and.. Iono how to explain it, but it hurts. I had this before, but now, it's recurring pretty often. It's not heartburn or anything either. I'm just walking along, then ow. =/ I think I should get it checked, but I never really think to do it. I know I'm being stupid, but I don't think this is normal. What if it's some sort of disease or something? That'd be pretty... strange. x_X Hrm.. Vanessa had some heart thing before, maybe I should ask her what her symptoms were and see if it's the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's still hot these days.. which makes me wanna go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;beaching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;! T___T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112561450947793596?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112561450947793596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112561450947793596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112561450947793596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112561450947793596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/09/heart-ache.html' title='Heart Ache'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112537475246465878</id><published>2005-08-29T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T21:13:19.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Diddle Diddle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Fall Out Boy - Dance, Dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iono what it was today.. maybe it was allergies or something, but MAN! It seemed like i was sneezing every 30 seconds (I was in Guttal though), and my eyelids seemed to be getting swollen or something. GAH! It was horrible. When I go drive tonight, I'm going to fricken Target to get Kleenex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other seemingly weird events today: I wore a skirt. I didn't think it was THAT weird, but apparently it is. "OH MY! A SKIRT!" It's another of those constant cycle things. I don't really like wearing skirts much, so I don't wear them often, and therefore, it's some sort of miracle when I do. One reason I don't like wearing skirts is how people always make a big deal of it. I don't really mind when people say it, but really.. what's the big deal o_O? So because of that.. (mom just brought in a bowl of pho. HART! &lt;3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;FSCKEN ERUYAOKN! Just cuz of that heart up there, blogger took out a whole chunk out of my post, so I'm too irritated now to put it back in. It was pretty much the same thing as what's in my profile though.. so:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;when my dad came home and saw me in a skirt coming home from school, he was really happy, like.. REALLY happy. he kissed me on the forehead and told me to wear more skirts. i just said, "uh.. Whatever." later, i came downstairs and my mom came home from work, then my dad told me he told my mom to buy me more skirts. he said to "get the good ones, even if they're expensive." he said he'd just pay for it. now, i know i barely wear skirts, but wth. i don't even know what to think of this o_O.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;is it really that crazy for me to have a skirt on?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;And so, I think I like American Eagle. (I like putting something random at the end, if you haven't noticed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112537475246465878?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112537475246465878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112537475246465878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112537475246465878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112537475246465878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/hey-diddle-diddle.html' title='Hey Diddle Diddle'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112469025884147056</id><published>2005-08-21T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T22:58:13.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moby Dick, the American Classic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was Sparknoting &lt;u&gt;Moby Dick&lt;/u&gt; when odd lines kept popping up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ishmael admits that he is 'manhandling' the whale in his description, but he says that he is doing the best that he knows how."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;..Which is manhandling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ishmael describes the other parts of the whale, including the penis, euphemistically named the 'cassock.' He blasphemously likens the whale's organ to the dress of clergymen because it has some pagan mysticism attached to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;How is there a religious mysticism.. to a FUCKING &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PENIS&lt;/span&gt;?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ishmael is carried away with enthusiasm for the 'sweet and unctuous' sperm. He squeezes all morning long, sentimentally describing his physical contact with the other sailors, whose hands he unintentionally gropes in the vat of sperm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;.. Wtf! what kinda guy gets enthusiastic about &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sperm&lt;/span&gt;?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes me think of South Park when Mr. Garrison was writing a "romance novel," but it actually was a porno. The whole storyline was just about penises, even a "redwood forest of penises." O__X Herman Melville.. I wouldn't be surprised if he was gay. -___-;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112469025884147056?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112469025884147056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112469025884147056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112469025884147056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112469025884147056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/moby-dick-american-classic.html' title='Moby Dick, the American Classic'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112426224538435948</id><published>2005-08-16T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T00:16:47.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Productive</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Taking Back Sunday - Number Five With a Bullet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did some stuff today. Nothing fun, but I got stuff done. Yay..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, after a crappy delay, I went to the Martin Luther King Library. I was about an hour late to meet up with Lisa, Tracy, Chis, and Dan but I still got some APUS and APCalc summer hw done. Later, we went to La Victoria (I'm getting kinda tired of it though..). I got Super Nachos with steak, but I couldn't finish it. After, we got picked up and Tracy dropped us all off at our homes cuz she needed to go eat with her family. When we all got home, Tracy told me they lied to her and they didn't have to do anything. Boo. We wanted to hang out and stuff, but since we already all got home and got settled.. we were too lazy. -__- Later, John took me out to drive for an hour. We worked on my 3-point turns, which are still horrible, and practiced just a little on parallel parking. I got dizzy after from all the reverse and forward then back and forth again. I didn't really do anything after, but my mom bugged me a bit about letting her watch K-drama.. okay, at first, I was okay with her watching cuz you know, she comes home from work, wants to just watch, and I'd turn it on for her. Now though, she's at a point of obsession. I must admit, nothing surprises me anymore cuz the plot twists are pretty much all the same, so when she wants to watch for hours and hours at night every day until it's what.. 3 AM? What's the point? If it weren't for my not having any new episodes for the drama she's currently watching, she'd be watching right now and I'd be sitting in her room, waiting for her to get off in a couple hours so I can in my room. She even gets mad when I don't download. She says things like, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why don't you download for me, huh? You never download it."&lt;/span&gt; Jeez. I remember when I was at Taco Bell with Antoine about &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1 in the morning&lt;/span&gt; that she told me to come home... not because it was late, but because she wanted me to turn on K-drama. GAH! I know, I know, it's not that big of a deal. I don't think so either, but jeez. She's really obsessed. She's on the 5th episode while I'm on the 9th.. of a 20 episode drama she already finished in a week's time (last week)! I think that's enough to say she's obsessed. -__-;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal of going to the beach this summer will never be reached. Now that it's cold, I don't even wanna go that much, but I still kinda wanna go. There's no way to get there though.. and, as much as I don't want to admit it, summer's ending. I guess I'm just running out of time and it's not great beach weather, so I gave up. =[ Sad, I know. I wanted to go to this beach Antoine told me about. It looks really nice. T___T I'm really disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should read &lt;u&gt;Sophie's World&lt;/u&gt;, but it's so boring. Gah! People who took the class already said it was the interesting book out of the three, but the only good book is &lt;u&gt;East of Eden&lt;/u&gt;. Crazy people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gyar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112426224538435948?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112426224538435948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112426224538435948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112426224538435948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112426224538435948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/productive.html' title='Productive'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112358808076704922</id><published>2005-08-09T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T04:54:58.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/askgj2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/400/askgj1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Click to enlarge)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was bored, so I kinda played around with a picture I took. For all you people who know how to use Photoshop, you should know that this is simple to do, but my Photoshop knowledge is unfortunately limited. Well, it's nothing. Just something out of boredom. The title was to try and cover that stupid chair, and due to lack of a better title in mind. It's almost 5. What can you do? (It seems to be a little pixely... oh well.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112358808076704922?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112358808076704922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112358808076704922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112358808076704922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112358808076704922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112357975211398024</id><published>2005-08-09T02:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T02:30:47.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Change for a Change?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tilly and the Wall - I Can't Believe You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/glasses1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/glasses1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I got&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; my new glasses. I actually like them now,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; but I still think I look a little weird. I guess it's cuz it's from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/glasses2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/glasses2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; point of view or something, but Iono, I'm just not use&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112357975211398024?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112357975211398024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112357975211398024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112357975211398024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112357975211398024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/change-for-change.html' title='A Change for a Change?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112323857048242421</id><published>2005-08-05T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T18:17:42.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tongue-Tied</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Bloc Party - This Modern Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Tracy, Lisa, Victoria, and I went downtown, but we once again came when it was closed. Actually, we had three minutes.. but that's not so much better. T__T We watched "Must Love Dogs" at Camera 12, but we were a little late. It was okay. I didn't expect much, cuz I just wanted to see it for John Cusack pretty much. He looked kinda tubby in there though. *Shrug* We were pretty much the only ones in the theatre except for maybe one person. It's cool if Camera 12 gets customers and all... but MAN! I'm still grr about how they're mostly playing Hollywood movies. Hopefully they get more customers who watch independent movies so they have more. I wanna watch "Murderball", dammit! It always takes them forever to get out the good ones (i.e, "Saving Face" and "Crash"). I can't believe they played "Sharkboy &amp; Lavagirl" er whatever over those. Insane. Anyway, after the movie, we went around, got lost, and ate at The Old Spaghetti Factory. I've never been there... but I remember a couple years back, I was supposed to go with someone, but it never happened... =T Anyway, after that, we were walking around and I used that public toilet for a quarter. It was okay.. I didn't make contact with anything in there, but the cool thing was the faucet. I was reading the instructions and stuff, but I didn't really get it. It went on and water came out, but it was soapy, then it changed into just plain water, then the dryer came on (and if you're not done washing everything off, the water's still on for a bit =D). I thought that was pretty cool. (AHH! THERE'S A SPIDER IN MY ROOM!..) After that, we were at the park and we were going to go somewhere else, then there was a bum following us, talking to us. None of us said anything, but we turned and tried to cross the street. While we were waiting for the walk sign (There was a cop. Damn..), the guy came over again and looked us all over. Eegad. He walked over to me and started talking. He asks,..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;"You guys aren't from here, right? Are there lights and things from where you're from?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;(pause.. I'm tempted to talk to my friends in Vietnamese to pretend I don't speak English, but he probably heard us speaking English when he was first following us.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I say, "Yeah, I guess."&lt;br /&gt;"Are you Japanese?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, actually, I'm Vietnamese."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. I don't know what it is, but Asian women drive me crazy.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Light turns green.. Everyone walks away really quickly and I don't notice, then I power walk to catch up cuz I don't wanna be alone with the crazy guy.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said other stuff I can't really remember like how Asian women are really pretty or we were pretty.. Iono. The weird thing for me is, I didn't really care about talking to him (although that part about Asian women driving him crazy was pretty creepy), but what really got me.. irritated was how he thought we weren't from around there. Dude.. none of us even looked close to being fobs or something. I guess I just found him really ignorant and stupid for asking if places like "where we come from" actually have lights. Jeez. It's as if he thinks we come from Chinky Cave and we're Chinky Cavewomen who have come bearing sex. To add on, he was wearing a hat with stars and stripes. Freaking cracker. Racist, you say? Yes.. yes I am, dammit, but at least I'm not racist AND entirely ignorant. After that incident, everyone said they wouldn't have talked to him if he talked to them. I don't mind talking to people, but it probably isn't smart, huh? Well, the way I see it is, if I didn't talk to him, he could've been one of those guys who get mad when you ignore them and do something crazy. Plus, I felt kinda bad for the guy cuz no one really talks to bums. However, it was disgusting and annoying. We're not even legal. x____x Disgusting, really disgusting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is. I always feel like I'm rambling now. I guess I'm just not a good talker. *Shrug* Whenever I feel like going to someone with problems I can no longer hold in, I tend to talk about it a little, then try to change the subject. I'll talk about it a little, change the subject, talk about it a bit again, then try to talk about something. Even on the phone.. I was never a phone person, but sometimes, I'll have a really good conversation, then other days, I have nothing to talk about and it's really spastic. I think the most articulate state I have is when I'm half-asleep, talking to someone, or maybe it's just cuz I love doing that. Talking to someone half-asleep and being half-asleep gives me a relaxed,.. honest feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZOOM! meemmolrliieks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112323857048242421?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112323857048242421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112323857048242421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112323857048242421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112323857048242421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/tongue-tied.html' title='Tongue-Tied'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112304167602001876</id><published>2005-08-02T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T21:01:16.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Sense of Direction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Weezer - I Do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was interesting. Sarah and I really don't like the YMCA's pool. When you open the door, all this hot, heavy air hits you, and the water isn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; refreshing. The night before, I got a call and was told that we were going to swim at Chris N.'s pool. After some delay, Cindy gave Tracy, Sarah, and I a ride. Cindy drives well, but she really doesn't know where she's going. When you go to someone's house, you know how to get out by going the opposite way, right? Cindy had no idea and had to ask every time where to turn which way. I found that pretty funny. We swam and did some stuff. When we finally decided to get out, we changed in Chris' place. It got pretty messy, but we cleaned it up a bit. Later, we went to drop off Sarah, and we went to La Victoria. We walked around downtown, then we went to drop off Thanh. We went around to random places and drove around cuz we had nowhere to go. We went down this straightwaway that people died at when they tried to race, and Cindy went down a supposedly haunted road. There were these huge dead birds on the side, then this truck was coming at us pretty fast. I don't think it's haunted, but it was freaky.. We finally decided to go to the lake. We hung out, then we had to drop off Chris. We dro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ve up and down the same roads repeatedly cuz we had nowhere to go, but you know.. usually, if the driver doesn't know where to go, they just decide to turn in somewhere, but Cindy doesn't know where she's going, so she never turned unless we told her to. x__x haha. After going around and around, I decided to go home. After they dropped me off, my mom gave me a box of sample glasses to try on and see which one I liked. I couldn't decide cuz I didn't really like any... so I called Cindy, Tracy, Lisa, and Victoria to come over and help. They chose a red pair of emo glasses. I thought it looked okay, but it felt really weird cuz I don't think emo glasses look that good on me. They, my mom, and John said it was good, but I still felt weird about it. I was about to get this ugly pair of glasses cuz it wasn't emo and I thought it fit me a lot more. Anyway, they stayed till they realized it was 12 and left in a hurry. I stayed up a while trying to choose a pair, but I really didn't like any of them. I didn't want to be rude to my mom's customer by having her ask him to give her a 2nd box to try on, so I just decided to get the red, emo ones. This morning, my dad woke me up just to try them on. Even he said they were nice... but I still don't know. Oh well. I can always stick with my current, crooked, broken, too-tight-for-my-head-that-it-gives-me-dents glasses.. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went to the Y w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ith Sarah. We ran and just did some stuff while waiting for the Pilates class to start. When it started, we did the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;evil &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Downwar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/AdhoMukhaSvanasana-L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/AdhoMukhaSvanasana-L.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;d Dog&lt;/span&gt;, and that's when I knew it was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;yoga&lt;/span&gt;! Yoga is crazy and we hate it. Within about 10 minutes, I kept trying to whisper to Sarah to see if she wanted to bail. When she finally heard me, we left oh-so-relieved. I asked a worker for the schedule and found out it changes every month. What we were just doing was Yogalates. Gah. There was no Pilates by the time we left. Screw yoga &gt;__&gt; I don't need to be flexible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I did that's at least somewhat interesting lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's August. No~!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112304167602001876?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112304167602001876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112304167602001876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112304167602001876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112304167602001876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/08/no-sense-of-direction.html' title='No Sense of Direction'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112271839671653196</id><published>2005-07-30T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T03:13:16.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Illusions and Viruses</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Park Mook Hwan - "Chun Gook Eh Gi Uk" (Stairway to Heaven)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might actually be going crazy. I think that any moment, there's going to be someone at my doorway or that if I turn around, someone will be there. If that's not crazy, I can't imagine what is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could empty out my brain sometimes and start over.. like reformatting or something. Start fresh. Forget everything and everyone. Makes me think of "Sunshine of the Spotless Mind". Sure, there was a lesson at the end, a moral, that it's better to enjoy those memories than lose them, but I really don't believe that. Iono.. I guess I just don't believe that b.s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want a car at times like these, but where would I go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I burst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112271839671653196?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112271839671653196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112271839671653196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112271839671653196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112271839671653196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/illusions-and-viruses.html' title='Illusions and Viruses'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112234247939091845</id><published>2005-07-25T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T18:51:54.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Daphne Loves Derby - Hammers and Hearts (&lt;a href="http://www.outlookmusic.com/downloads/DLD_FinalColorWMed_Prog001.mov"&gt;the MV&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was pretty crazy.&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, I was supposed to get my permit, but I went to SF with Don, Cristal, and Wilson instead. Don drove. Yes, it's amazing I'm even alive to tell you the tale. So he was swerving into all the lanes, thinking it would save him billions of time, which it didn't. I'll be blunt, he's a horrible driver. Not that he can't drive, but he just has the worst ideas ever. We went around Fisherman's Wharf (got myself a clam chowder in a bread bowl ^-^) and went to Haights St. I didn't get anything, but there were some interesting things. After, we had a lot of bad, bad detours and stops. Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday, I was supposed to get my permit, but when I went to the DMV, they said I had the wrong birth certificate. Gah! Lisa even told me about how that happened to her before, and I still got the wrong one. I was going to go back and forth and take it, but I had a dentist appointment, so we didn't know if I'd have time cuz the wait at the DMV could be long. Later, John and I went to the dentist, then they said that our appointment wasn't till the next day. GAH! Waste of a day.&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, I went to the DMV, still tired although I showered to try and wake myself up. I didn't feel like brushing my hair although I even brought it into the car, so I just tied it up in a bun. After doing some stuff at the DMV, I got into another line that had a sign.. CAMERA. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WHAT?! WE TAKE OUR PICTURES WHEN WE TAKE OUR PERMIT?!?! AHHH!!&lt;/span&gt; I didn't know what to do. When I was getting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; my fingerprint, signature, and picture, she told me to step back so she c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;an take the picture. I decided to take out my hair. I took it out, shook it around, blah! She was waiting for it to print, then she started laughing.. loud.., and she said something to her co-worker. I only caught her saying, "only one shot.." Then she handed me my papers, including my picture. It was horrible. I look insane. T___T I don't want to pay to get it retaken either, but DAMMIT! After, I took my permit and passed with 4 errors. Didn't even study. I was scared they'd have the techinical stuff like fines, but they didn't. Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On Friday, I remember being really busy during the day for some odd reaso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n and being ARGH! Later, people came over, we ate and had a BBQ, and we just hung out. We (the peopl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e who slept over and I) watched "Cra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/crash_bigposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/crash_bigposter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sh" on my computer and I teared again. I still love that movie. =] We stayed up till the morning just talking and laughing about nothing. I actually slept for maybe an hour, but it was a kinda half-asleep mode. Later, we slept at.. iono, 9? I did at least, but I woke up and went downstairs. I can't entirely remember why, but it was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; hot in my room and it was a lot cooler downstairs. We ate, did a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;whole bunch of stupid nothing, and the last person finally left at around 8. Partied for over 24 hours. Aiyah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my week. Nothing happened today except a lot of Daphne Loves Derby stuff. That MV makes me kinda love the lead singer, Kenny, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/02.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and iono why. He's not hot, but something about how he acts or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; looks in there... x_x *shrug* Stu, the drummer, is pretty good looking, to me, but eh. THEIR ALBUM &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ON THE ST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RENGTH OF ALL CONVINCED&lt;/span&gt; COMES OUT TOMORROW! ME WANTS! They have all new songs on there except "Middle, Middle"... DAMN! THEY CAME TO SJ! BUT I COULDN'T GO! Actually, I could have, but that would've been sad for me to leave Kris' birthday party, althou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;gh it wasn't great. &gt;.&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112234247939091845?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112234247939091845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112234247939091845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112234247939091845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112234247939091845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/crazy-week.html' title='Crazy Week'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112158085304986730</id><published>2005-07-16T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T23:14:58.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Planners</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;m-flo feat. Melody &amp; Ryohei Yamamoto - "Miss You (Live)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole week, it seems like any plans made just backfire. Annoying, it is. Gah. The one on my mind right now is the karaoke contest. Don had to quit, then Christian says he can't cuz he has plans (althought this was said weeks before x_x), Sarah wanted to quit, and Kenneth was indifferent. It's like no one else knows how to plan or organize anything. I hate having to plan everything. Sure, I did sign everyone up, but this was made weeks in advance, then Christian suddenly asks when it is, and he says he's busy? GAH! I don't even want to do it anymore. It was all just for fun, then all this crap happened. Ack! I still kinda want to do it for fun, but how the heck did it get so complicated? Screw it. aKJAHKkj;RKJSAH;KLGJN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today..&lt;br /&gt;I had to plan a thing at my house so we can discuss karaoke. We found out (although we already knew) that no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ne of us could sing. Ended in failure, but it was kinda fun just having people over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/taichi.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/taichi.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Before that, Sarah and I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ent to the Y. We did Tai Chi. We were the only kids or young people there. There were people r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;anging from their 20's to 50's, but they all pretty much seemed to be regulars. Sarah and I were pretty lost cuz we came late, but I caught on okay. The teacher was nice, but he had some guy teach us since we were beginners. The other guy was.. kinda nice, but he seemed stressed with us. ^^; They told us to practice at home or else we'll forget cuz they only have it once &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a week. In the end, it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm bored with nothing to do. Washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, got my GQ magazine, ... blah. I wish someone could come over. I feel lonely x_x. I'm home alone.. yah, NOW is one of those times it'd be great to have a boyfriend. Then I could get him to come over and I could just hug him all day.. night, whatever. &gt;.&gt; DAMN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should read or do some other sort of summer homework. I feel pathetic.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112158085304986730?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112158085304986730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112158085304986730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112158085304986730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112158085304986730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/planners.html' title='Planners'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112114887125523755</id><published>2005-07-11T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T23:15:30.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New-Found Appreciation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Switchfoot - 24&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just came back from LA a couple of hours ago. I'm pretty exhausted. I wanna sleep and all, but I really should try to read. I'm not even CLOSE to being half done with &lt;u&gt;East of Eden&lt;/u&gt;. I think the whole writing notes in it is slowing me down a lot cuz I have to think about what's not THAT important and what seems key. Gah. I like to just read and not stop. Stupid note taking, reading logs, and all that crap. I'll remember the book, dammit! &lt;u&gt;East of Ede&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;u&gt;n&lt;/u&gt; is interesting, but taking notes kills it. Iono why, but it reminds me of "Crash" a lot. They give you different people and how their lives.. intertwine. Also, that one part.. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[SPOILER *highlight to read*]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; where Alice tells Adam after he almost gets killed by Charles that Adam just needs to know him. She told Adam about how Charles gave her all these small gifts that she didn't think he'd even notice. She said that she'd look at Charles for a while after finding them and he'd give no sign that he'd done it, but the whole time, it was actually Adam who had given here the cinnamon pinks, half a stick of sealing stuff?, a feather, etc. Adam didn't say anything cuz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;he did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;n't want to kill her image of her son. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[/SPOILER]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;.. This is also another spoiler, but for "Crash". I doubt an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;yone will watch the film cuz I don't know many people who are into i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ndependent films, so just skip it i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;f you don't want to read. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[SPOILER]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; At&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;end &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;of "Crash", this detective has to ta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ke his mom to see his now deceased brother who was found shot and apparently murdered. The mom is crying like crazy, screaming out. (Note: Throughout the film, she tells her detective son to go and find his brother who ran away, not really caring for her son who was by her side.) After she stops crying and yelling, she tells her detective son that her son came back while she was sleeping and brought her some groceries. I can't really recall, but I'm pretty sure she blamed her detective son for his brother's death because he didn't bring him home. She did blame him though. Anyway, it was her detective son who threw away her old, spoiled food and replaced it with new groceries while she slept. He didn't tell he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;r. I thought it was pretty sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[/SPOILER]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Yah... so, &lt;u&gt;East of Eden&lt;/u&gt; is interesting. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Now! To recap my weekend in LA. It's going to be a long post x_x Gah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday:&lt;/span&gt; We were off to LA. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t took us... maybe 8 hours? There was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/15.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; traffi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;c. I hate how LA is built. It's built from the inside and spreads out, so everyone's heading &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;inwa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s and there's no escape. When &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;we finally reached our hotel, we were to go eat with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;a family frie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;nd. Ah yes, right when you think there's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;enough car action, they stuff you in another one. -_- We ate at a restaurant.. one of those places where they give you a set o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;f different dishes (I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;think the pl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ace we went to was 7 Mon Bo, meaning 7 dishes of beef). It was okay, but the guy paid for us, so no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; complaining. It was just boring cuz they kept&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; talki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/d02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/d02.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ng and John and I just sat there. I did see this guy that looked okay, but I couldn't really see, so Iono. Mostly, I just kept on watching little kids run around or be handed around (you know h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ow ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;yone wants to hold the baby -_-). I think t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;hat I thin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;k o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;nly Asian babies are cute. One thing I know is, I don't think white babies are cute. So yah, lotsa cute Asi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;an babies and kids. "I thought you hate kids," you must be thinking. Yah, when they're annoyi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ng or something, then yes, I hate kids, but when th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ey shut up and don't whine, then they're okay by me. When we got back to our room, we watched some TV, then slept. I shared a bed with my brother a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;nd he moves around like crazy. Not only that, he &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;and my dad were snoring &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;insanely &lt;/span&gt;loud. Thank God for my iPod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saturday:&lt;/span&gt; We went to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl07.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Disneyland. We rode the Jungle Cruise (there was a &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hot guy!&lt;/span&gt; you can see a little bit of his head in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;the picture popping out behind the guy in black&lt;/span&gt;), Pirates of the Caribbean, Haunted Mansion, Indiana Jo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;nes, Peter Pan, Snow White, some Buzz Lighty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ear ride, and some others I just can't seem to remember. There was a lot of j&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;azz stuff goi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;g on. B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ands, dancing, that sorta thing. There was this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; one college band.. man, that was really good. I always thought the cello sounded pretty, but this girl played this Duke Ellington song &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;so w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl47.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl47.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ell and I wished I knew what a cello was when I was 5. DAMN! I could seriously learn to love jazz. HART! &lt;3&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;) I could really loves swing, jazz, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;the blues. ^^ They also had these new mosaics that were made of pictures taken with guests. I thought they looked pretty cool. Anyw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ay, we stayed at Di&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;sneyland for a really long time. We ate dinner there at the French.. something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;. It wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;sn't that great. =/ Disneyland is known to have really good food, but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I guess we picked the wr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ong place. -__- They had good jazz music there, but MAN! There was this stupid white lady (yah.. damn racism) who was behind me in line. I just wanted to go back to get a cup of ice cuz the cashier said I could, and she gave me that look. You know.. that glare, or otherwise known as "dogging." Her husband was nice to me and I was nice to him when he accidentally got ice in my food. Beach! I didn't do anything to you and your husband got ice in my food, so who's the one that should be bitchy? She even pushed our trays aside. Things like that make me even more raci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;st. Yah, I don't think it's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; a good thing, nor do I take pride in being racist, but man, it's just so hard for me not to think, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fucking white people.&lt;/span&gt; I'm not racist where I stereotype &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; white people, but when a white person pisses me off, which is often, I get racist. See, I didn't care about her husband. Nice guy, but she was such a prick. Gah. John ran into an asshole too. We were in line for.. Peter Pan, was i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t? This lady had two small kids and they ran in front of John and the lady went with them. Yah, if we weren't already in line, then it wouldn't be cutting necessarily, just cutting off, but we were in the rails and everything. John asked her if she would please not cut and gave him a look as if he were &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl40.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ru&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;de. Wtf? (no, she wasn't white) My dad just told him to let her go first, but that l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ady glared at us as if we had done something wrong. I would've just let her go too, but the fact that she looked at us as&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; if we we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;re the ones who cut or something, that wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s pretty fucking stupid. GAH! STUPID PEOPLE ANGER ME! John did take it up the ass, but yah, he w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;as made out to be stupid after saying something and having to back down. =/ I'd hate it too. Anyway (I get off track easily, huh?), we went on some other rides. My parents went on the carousel (I've never been on it, at least not that I can recall) and John and I waited. I was sitting alone and suddenly.. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;hot guy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He was by himself and by chance was standing in front of me. After looking at him a while, he looked at me. He walked back and fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;rth by me. Yah, I should've gotten up and said something to him, but I've never done that sorta thing before. I'm a total n00b. =[ Then his family came and they walked away. I thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DAMN! If only I said something!&lt;/span&gt; When my parents came out, we all walked toward some other ride and I saw him sitting on the side, looking at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;me. I doubt he wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s checking me out and only looked cuz we we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl54.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/dl54.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;re walking by, but I yet again didn't go over to talk to him. Later, while my parents were watch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ing FANTASMIC!, John and I went on the Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mansion. We w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ere totally dancing in our haunted buggy. It was kinda funny. After, we were just walking around, waiting, I saw &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;another hot guy!&lt;/span&gt; He had a nice body and a good face, but he gav&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;e off a weird feeling. Maybe it's cuz he was wearing a wife beater, showing that he knew he had a nice body. I like guys who have great qualities, but don't flaunt them. Later, w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;e got back to the hotel, I read more &lt;u&gt;East of Eden&lt;/u&gt;, and slept to my blasting iPod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunday:&lt;/span&gt; We went to Universal Studios. The first ride we went on was The Mummy, at least for John and I. I told my parents that they probably shouldn't go with us cuz I didn't know if it'd be too much for them or not cuz of my dad's back and my mom's being prone to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; motion sickness. We went and it was pretty goo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/u03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/LA/u03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;d. It's a ride mostly for film effects kinda stuff, but it does go forward and backward with some pretty s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;harp turns. I didn't think it was so bad, so I got my parents to go. when we were in the front of the line..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Worker: How many?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dad: Three.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Worker: Row One.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mom *walking hesitantly*: W..What? Row &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ONE&lt;/span&gt;?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: .. It's okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;We let her sit in the middle. T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;hen.. off we went! When we stop the first tim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;e, it give the feeling that it's over, then it goes b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ackward. When we were in the eclipse room where it ends, my mom was screaming, "Is it over?!" Yes, it was over. When we were to get out, my mom was frozen. I didn't see her face really, but my dad said she was in shock and her face was pale. He said the way she looked was scarier than the ride. That's pretty sad. =P When we finally helped my mom out of the entire building, she had to sit down, then lie down. My dad was trying to coax her, but he just kept laughing at her. It was pretty funny. x_x She kept on talking about it the whole vacation after that. After that, my dad and I went on Jurassic Park cuz my mom already went with my dad while John and I went on The Mummy the first time and John went while I was on the Mummy with my parents. My dad wanted to go again anyway, so we went. They added some new stuff, I think, like that car that leans over and drops. It freaked me out cuz it was right next to me. I thought, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, it's just going to lean over... OMG! WHY IS IT FALLING! AHHH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Yah.. everything was on my side. I got squirted and splashed by everything. We watched some shows (Waterworld was good) and just went on rides. We mostly went on those sit-in-a-moving-chair-with-a-screen-in-front-of-you rides, but it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; Universal Studios, so it makes sense, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;I don't think I'll ever finish this post. Too long. -_-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112114887125523755?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112114887125523755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112114887125523755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112114887125523755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112114887125523755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/new-found-appreciation.html' title='New-Found Appreciation'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112081861966521126</id><published>2005-07-08T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-11T22:36:34.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe TOO Adventurous?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maroon 5 - Through With You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday started out pretty crazy. Don, Chris N., Antoine, and I planned to go to La Victoria, but never decided on a time. I called people to check if they were still in the mood to go, but Antoine wasn't hungry and Chris was at his dad's shop, so it pretty much got cancelled. Thursday is also ballroom night at the Y, but that also got cancelled cuz Antoine wanted to watch "Taegukgi" (always nags at me for not watching it.. he even got Sarah to nag at me &gt;.&gt;). Then, "Taegukgi" got cancelled cuz Antoine didn't have a ride and he has the DVD, so everything got cancelled and I was to do abso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;lutely nothing. x_x I tried to look for some grub, but nothing seemed as ap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;pealing as La Victoria. Damn, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;an hour or two later, as I was nuking my Tostito nacho cheese, Don gave me a call and asked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e were still going to La Victoria. Obviousl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;y, Ant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;oine didn't call Don like I told him to so Don &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/random022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/random022.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d know every&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;thing was cancelled. I decided to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tell him myself, but we decided to go a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nyway. I called Antoi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ne, then he said he wanted to go (loser). So Don &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;pi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;cked us up, and we were off! It t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ook &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;us &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a good hour or so to find o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ur way (John said to turn left on San Fernando and go all the way down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;.. LIES!). Finally, we decided &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;to listen to Antoin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e and found our way (I knew my wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;y the whole ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;me! .__.). Yah, he tried to rub it in and all, but WH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ATEVAH, MANG! I got myself a Supreme Burrito a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nd it hit the spot (b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ut Antoine's constantly putting the orange sauce closer to him instead of the middle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and grabbing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it when I'm about to grab it made me impatient)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/random03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/random03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. I have been craving Mexican fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;od for weeks. I've eaten a lot &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of Taco Bell, but it just do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;esn't fulf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ill my needs like La Victo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ria does. A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fter we ate and talked some, we w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;alked around downtown SJ &lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I'd really love living there. Those apartments o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ver by the Martin Luther Ki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ng Library look perfe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ct. It's wit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hin walking distance to the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;lib&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;rary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Camera 12 (supposed to be for independent &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;s, but they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sold out, s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;o they have Hollywood films too), Blockbuster (in case I d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;on't want to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;watch any movies in the theatre), La Victoria, Ben &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&amp; Jerry's, Quizno's, and probably a lot of other awesomely convenie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nt places. I like being able to get around by just walking, but I don't want to be in a place where cars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; unheard of. Downtown is very industrialized, but there's still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; a lot of people who just walk around and such. I like that. Anyway, after we walked around, w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e went to my house and hung out a bit. Antoine tried to make us watch "Taegukgi", but he failed. kekeke. I wanted to watch it, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;pissing him off is just s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;o fu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n. After they left, I told my dad I didn't want to go to LA cuz Vanessa couldn't come along anymore (long story). If I did go, it would've been just my parents and... me. My dad has an arthritic back and my mom is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt; prone to get motion sickeness, so that leaves my choices for rides down to.. my s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hadow. *yay on the inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, x], giddy fists*.. -_- My dad was disappointed and I guss I can understand why, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seriously&lt;/span&gt;, what can I do over there alone o_O? I wanna walk around at night, go scavenge for cool places, etc. Later, my mom came home and they talked to me. They ended up &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;forcing &lt;/span&gt;John to go (he said he wants to go, but if he really did, why wasn't he just coming in the first place..). I do want to go, yes yes, but that just killed it. Iono.. I think John's just saying that to make me feel better, so what's so great about going with someone who doesn't want to be there? -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about other things... My title. "Maybe &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TOO &lt;/span&gt;Adventurous?".. reason? Well, earlier this week, I went with George to TC Tea, but we got &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; fricken lost (it wasn't my fault this time cuz he was the one who was supposed to print out/ write down the directions). We did finally get there, and it was fricken worth it (Dammit, oppa. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I love the Taro pearl drink&lt;/span&gt; xP~). It seems like everytime I really try to get somewhere, I get lost. Maybe I take that song a little too much to the heart. Bleh. Well, I'm going to LA in maybe 6 hours? Not even sure, but I want to stay up late so I can sleep in the car, so I chose to blog. Feel free to expect a post this Monday or Tuesday. As for now, peace out! *peace sign* &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fui~&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112081861966521126?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112081861966521126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112081861966521126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112081861966521126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112081861966521126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/maybe-too-adventurous.html' title='Maybe TOO Adventurous?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14258132.post-112069600547952758</id><published>2005-07-06T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T17:09:07.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Started</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;Lauryn Hill - "Doo Wop (That Thing)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've decided to get Blogging again. Nothing to blog about for today, but yah.. after this weekend, I'll probably have stuff about my weekend in LA. Hopefully it goes well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This template is plain, so I like it, but i wanna change it and make a banner or something. Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;July 4th:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Some of us (me, Tracy, Chris N., Victoria, Thanh, Nancy, Lisa, Don, Alan, Wilson, Antoine, Andrew, and Cristal.. and maybe anyone else I forgot x_x) went over to some bridge by Tammy's house with some snacks. We watched fireworks going off in downtown (we had a pretty good view of all of them), I had to sing to Don (karaoke contest, July 22 @ YMCA!.. but that was weird for me), some people left then came back, guys did some bad stunts, and we lit fireworks. The stunts they did were pretty... stupid. Pulling people up and letting people down from the bridge.. Hey! That reminds me. Antoine was lifting some people up, and Thanh totally said he had buns of steel. xD Ever since she first met him at Lisa's birthday last month, I got the feeling that she thought Antoine was freaking hot er something. I find that pretty funny (not cuz Antoine's ugly either..). It was pretty fun. Much better than doing nothing at home, anyway, but the end sucked. We still wanted to go out, then ended up just going home. Knew it would end that way, but blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;July 5th:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; I realized I did NOTHING on my "I'm in the mood to:" list, soooo, I got Don and Antoine to go to Chris N.'s house to swim. I wanted to swim &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, so we tried to kill time by playing Halo on Cris' XBOX. I hate playing computer games on game systems like XBOX cuz you have to use the right analog (messes me up so much!), but I didn't get last. Antoine's a loser. pueheheh. We both had 15 deaths, but I had one more kill than him (I had 9 kills, he had 8). Stupid Chris pwned us all. It was 3 vs. 1, and he still won. BEACH! (beach = beetch = b.tch! Yah, I'm genius, I know. ^^) We got lazy to wait for night to come cuz nighttime doesn't actually come till about 9 PM, so we decided to just swim. It was a little chilly, but not so bad. The guys wresteled, made each other bleed, splashed like crazy, and I kinda floated in the corner, shivering. They tried to dunk me, which makes me get very paranoid. O__x Gah. After, we drove around for almost an hour trying to decide where to eat, then we ended up at Taco Bell, which was, what, maybe.. a 3 minute drive from Chris'? x_x We suck. Oh well, I got to go out. It was pretty fun. When Don was driving us home, they were talking about "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;sharting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;". I've never heard of this, but I guess it's safe to assume it was made up by putting together "shit" and "fart". Their stories were nasty, yet funny, but I was just like, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Whhaaaa?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; cuz I've never even known about this cuz I've never done it. This "sharting" is supposedly really watery and... done in your pants. That is pretty bad, man. I won't share any of their embarrassing stories, but I bet you can guess who had the worst one. x]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yah.. that should be enough to entertain you for today, neh? Hopefully Victoria has pics from July 4th, then I'll post them on here. At least the good ones. In the meantime, here's some random pictures (&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;click to enlarge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;me in Ragnarok O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;nline in some Christmas land.&lt;br /&gt;(it says I'm in Lutie)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt; LOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/screenReminiscenceRO0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/screenReminiscenceRO0001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;! IT'S A PORING! &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;my d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;esktop of the great Shane Taylor&lt;br /&gt;(a.k.a. Eugene "Doc" Roe from BAND OF BROTHERS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/dsktp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/dsktp1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;random picture&lt;br /&gt;(can yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/1600/random01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4741/556/320/random01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;u guess what it is?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14258132-112069600547952758?l=mixao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/feeds/112069600547952758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14258132&amp;postID=112069600547952758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112069600547952758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14258132/posts/default/112069600547952758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mixao.blogspot.com/2005/07/getting-started.html' title='Getting Started'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14328988558348029727</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mixao/01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
