<?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-1156394</id><updated>2011-12-26T21:17:07.582-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Past the Stars...</title><subtitle type='html'>Here's the place where I get away from everyone and I just type whatever I'm thinking. This is my collection of thoughts and dreams. This is me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2614960</id><published>2001-03-03T11:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-03-03T11:11:23.646-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0671027344/o/qid=983639007/sr=8-1/ref=aps_sr_b_1_1/105-3492711-2555920"&gt;The Perks of Being a Wallflower&lt;/a&gt;Okay, I think I am going to actually type something serious this time. Anyway, life is going pretty good for me. I am doing better in school. I'm getting As, Bs, and Cs. At least it's better than mostly Cs. I don't know how school use to be so easy for me. Ever since I was in elementary school I have procrastinated. I never do my homework right away when I get home. Jason is helping me with that. We mad a plan called the RedHairPlan where we both have to motivate each other so we can reach our goals. His goal is to lift weights everyday and mine is to do all of my homework. If we don't do what we're suppose to do, we have to dye our hair red. It's as easy as that. It's kinda silly in a way...but funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading a lot lately. The book I am reading right now is the perks of being a wallflower. I would recomend this book to any high school student. Anyway, I have to go. More later. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2614960?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2614960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2614960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2614960' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2552702</id><published>2001-02-27T07:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-02-27T07:22:30.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hello everybody!! I love you all! and I am completely messed up&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2552702?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2552702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2552702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2552702' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2547050</id><published>2001-02-26T20:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-02-26T20:57:22.403-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't really want to go out with anyone right now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2547050?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2547050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2547050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2547050' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2546217</id><published>2001-02-26T19:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-02-26T20:04:53.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think I am going to write...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2546217?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2546217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2546217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2546217' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2216150</id><published>2001-02-02T07:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2001-02-02T08:01:48.483-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This week has been really slow, but good. It's finally Friday and I don't know what I am going to do tonight. Maybe just stay home with Ma and Pa. Who knows? Anyway, I love&lt;a href="http://www.rainy.net/catherine"&gt;Catherine&lt;/a&gt;. I love her site. She's everything I want to be. Everything. She's everything inside that wants to come out, but can't. Missing someone again. Falling in love with every guy I see again. Love the song, "Again" by Lenny Kravits. Boring day in the life of Angie....again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2216150?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2216150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2216150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2216150' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2216146</id><published>2001-02-02T07:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-02-02T08:01:37.356-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This week has been really slow, but good. It's finally Friday and I don't know what I am going to do tonight. Maybe just stay home with Ma and Pa. Who knows? Anyway, I love&lt;a href="http://www.rainy.net/catherine"&gt;Catherine&lt;/a&gt;. I love her site. She's everything I want to be. Everything. She's everything inside that wants to come out, but can't. Missing someone again. Falling in love with every guy I see again. Love the song, "Again" by Lenny Kravits. Boring day in the life of Angie....again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2216146?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2216146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2216146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2216146' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-2034750</id><published>2001-01-19T07:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2001-01-19T07:39:42.940-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't typed in this thing in a while. I guess it doesn't interest me anymore and nobody reads it. Umm...life is doing pretty good. I broke up with Rich. We haven't won a conference basketball game yet. I have a lot of people that I know in my classes. My sister, Allison, is pregnant and just got married. Nathen just e-mailed me telling me he wants to be friends. Ryan's relationship isn't going well. John is bugging the crap out of me. He wants to go out with me, but I don't want to go out with anybody. Kristen and Pete have a good growing relationship. They've been going out for like 3-4 months now. School is going great. I'm finally doing my homework and trying to stay off the internet. I made a web site, but then I decided I don't really need it. All this stuff happened. I have a pretty boring normal life. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-2034750?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2034750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/2034750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2034750' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1617760</id><published>2000-12-10T12:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-12-10T12:10:32.086-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well...Buddy died. My boy, my dog, part of my life. He died at the vet's. That's probably the worst place to die. He always hated going there. He should have died in his bed eating ice cream. Love ya Bud...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1617760?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1617760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1617760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_12_01_archive.html#1617760' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1588457</id><published>2000-12-07T10:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-12-07T10:19:51.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, yeah. That's really all I have to say. Ummm....I should probably say something. I'm going out with Rich. He's really nice, but just like any other guy he wants something. Hint* Anyway, Luis is being an ass again in the Library. There's this new thing with me and these guys in the library saying that I could do 5 guys at once. It's a little joke that is pretty disgusting. Everything is disgusting. Also, some other news, my dog, Buddy died. He's been in my life since I was five years old. Everyone in my family was crying exept for me. I never really cry when a death happens. I don't know why. I cry like a year later. I guess I deny too much. Anyway, life is normal. I just realized last night how many problems I have to deal with in my life. I don't have that many. My parents are great. My sisters are great. I'm....I have no idea what or who I am. I am just another girl in the family. I'm boring. I guess the thing that would make me different from my sisters is if I got straight As, stayed a virgin until I got married, go to college all the way...and not get into any trouble with my parents. Now, what fun is that? I am just going to be another boring person on the streets. a nobody. That's really what I am. Nobody. Sometimes I think I can dissapear. Just go away and no one will ever notice. That's just what I am. Who I am. I want to stay quiet. but on the other hand I want to be outgoing and actually have a life worth living. I guess I like being depressive and shit like that. Maybe I'm just that way because everything around me is depressing. But what if I be happy for once in my life and accomplish somthing good. There has to be some way I can help. I guess I probably will never get a life of my own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I want to be in the hospital with *** is because people there are just like me and they understand. Maybe everyone needs to go there. People think I'm weird. I love being weird. That's my goal I guess. That sound out of the ordinary, but yeah. Anyway. life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting better grades...sort of. I am actually trying in my classes. Biology is annoying, Spanish is confusing, Speech is nerve racking, Ancient Civ is hard, and all the rest is just kind of in it's own little mess of it's own. I'm the big mess. Anyway...life goes on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1588457?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1588457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1588457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_12_01_archive.html#1588457' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1557547</id><published>2000-12-04T16:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-12-04T16:27:04.340-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, life is life. Just last week I felt depressed as all hell. For no aparent reason. I guess because of my grades. I thought about what would happen if I actually did my homework. I got an A+ on my Spanish quiz. It felt really good. I want to work hard and get straight As, but I too damn lazy. I remember last year first quarter I got all As and one B. Then I remember in 8th grade I had really good grades. What happened? I think maybe it's because I went out with Nathen and all I wanted to do was be with him and talk with him on the phone. And I'm paying more attention to my social life now more than my school life. Maybe I should even it out. Even things out. That sounds good. Anyway, my friend Kristen said these words that some day I wish to say..."there is just something about him." Love those words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1557547?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1557547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1557547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_12_01_archive.html#1557547' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1553039</id><published>2000-12-04T08:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-12-04T08:25:45.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Friday was very interesting. :) Stuff happens fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1553039?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1553039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1553039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_12_01_archive.html#1553039' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1553026</id><published>2000-12-04T08:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-12-04T08:24:37.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't typed in this in a while. Nothing really exciting is going on. I'm going out with a guy named Rich. That's the only thing that's going on. More later....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1553026?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1553026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1553026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_12_01_archive.html#1553026' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1474287</id><published>2000-11-26T20:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-26T20:50:32.993-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey...I haven't typed in this thing for awhile. Well, that's because not much is going on. My 4-day weekend was great. Today I saw 102 Dalmations. Hehehe. I love Disney movies. Went to Kohls and got a pair of cordaroy pants and a baseball shirt. I don't need anymore clothes! I really need to stop getting stuff. I feel so spoiled all the time. I buy a lot of stuff of my own, but I still feel so spoiled. Yesterday I didn't eat anything. I only drank water. I don't know why I did it. I guess I just wanted to see whether I could not eat anything for a day. I really missed food too. All I could think about was Burger King and McDonalds. Anyway, I never really have anything interesting to say. The people that read this are probably thinking, "BOORRRIIINNGG!" Nathen came over to my house yesterday to drop off my pictures and film. He wanted to leave right away. I told him I wanted to tell him something. I told him thank you. My parents kept trying to find out what I was doing. Nathen was probably thinking, "When is she going to leave me alone?" He told me he was sorry he didn't call me and that he was busy all the 2 weeks. I know that's probably not true. I mean it could be, but seriously....2 weeks. Anyway, he doesn't need to call me anymore. I know he's probably sick of me. The one thing he did that was sweet is that he gave me a hug. I should have squeezed harder. Then I gave him a kiss on the cheek and he gave me one. And for the last time...he left me. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1474287?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1474287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1474287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1474287' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1367633</id><published>2000-11-14T21:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-14T21:06:08.266-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, things didn't work out the way I wanted it to be, but life is always full of surprises. Nathen is sweet, I guess. I don't really know. I am just really...out of focus right now. I told myself, "I need to move on. I need to move on." Though it is really hard. I really did really like Nathen. Now, he's changed. I guess I've changed too. I hope we can be friends, but it seems like he doesn't want to. I don't know what he's thinking anymore. He's moved on and I'm still just here. God I feel so alone. But you know the weird thing is I even felt alone when I was dating Nathen. Jason asked me why I feel alone all the time, and I told him I didn't know. I really don't know. anyway...I feel like shit. My whole life is crashing down and I can't keep up. I tell myself to keep on going, but it's hopeless. I guess my heart is still healing. I know Nathen didn't mean to hurt me, but he did. And I think I hurt myself too because I loved him and needed him so much. I am too afraid to love again. I feel I don't trust people anymore. I'm sick of seeing all these beautiful people dating other beautiful people. Where is my person? I'm such a dork. My life is going no where. I wonder if Nathen is reading this. I doubt it. I bet he never really liked me as much as I liked him. I bet his guy brains kicked in some how. I've lost him. And I will never get him back. I will never get those loving eyes back that stared at me all the time. I loved it when he stared at me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to move on. I don't know how I can though. No one is there. I feel so alone and it really sucks. I don't know how to move on. I'm am such a ........nothing...I'm not even there. I'm just gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1367633?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1367633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1367633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1367633' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1344991</id><published>2000-11-12T16:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-12T16:00:56.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Confused as all hell like always. What's-his-name asked me out and then yesterday we "played" around. I don't know if he really likes me or if he's just going out with me to get some. I know I really like him, but I don't know why he wants to go out with me again. It was fun this weekend because we steamed up the windows in Pete's car. Hehe. I tried to be spontanious with Nathen, but I don't think that worked too well. It's really hard to impress him and get him horny or whatever. Anyway, I hope things will turn out. I'm listening to Q101 right now, bored as hell, waiting for dream boy to call. Here are some places to go for now. Places I visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hazy.org"&gt;Hazy.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.phunkystew.com"&gt;Phunkystew.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://julie.devoted.nu"&gt;aesthetic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.organique.com/Footprints/"&gt;Footprints&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.syntetika.com"&gt;Syntetika.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fontfreak.com"&gt;Frontfreak.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fontgarden.com"&gt;Font Garden&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1344991?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1344991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1344991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1344991' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1325339</id><published>2000-11-10T08:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-10T08:53:52.883-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, Luis as always is acting like he always is acting. Look what he put up on CLS Loser about me: &lt;a href="http://www.sphosting.com/countrydonut/news.html"&gt;CLS Loser News&lt;/a&gt; Most of it is a lie. I tried to tell him that I like guys for their personalities more than a guy's looks. They put words into my mouth saying that I said Greg was fat, when really I never said that nor will I ever say that.Their site is pretty messed up, but it's funny. I know I did say that I like looking at guys' bodies. Now that's the truth, but most of it they made up to make it interesting. Anyway, life is going pretty good for me. I'm depressed as always, but I'm excited about going to the movies on Saturday. Tonight I was invited to a party to hang out. My parents are being annoying by trying to make up excuses so I don't go. Anyway, more boring thoughts later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1325339?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1325339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1325339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1325339' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1311629</id><published>2000-11-08T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-08T21:07:22.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I should be studing for my ancient civilizations test right now, but as always...I don't feel like it. I have that Sarah McLachlan song in my head-"Your love is better than ice cream. Better then anything else that I've tried." That's exactly how I felt with Nathen. God damnit! Why can't I stop thinking about him. The only thing I can do is stop thinking. My friend Kristen told me something that I thought was so sweet of her. She said,"You're just a pretty shy person waiting to blossom." My friends are so awesome. Sometimes they can get pretty crazy and pshycotic, but other wise they are so wonderful. I wish I wasn't so shy and boring. I don't know how I am ever going to get another boyfriend. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1311629?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1311629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1311629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1311629' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1277069</id><published>2000-11-05T18:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-05T18:17:52.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel so much better! A rock has been lifted off of my shoulders! I talked to Nathen just a few minutes ago and I told him everything I felt. He just listened. He listened! That's what I love about him because he's one in million that listen to me. He told me that he was really busy and he seemed really stressed out. He doesn't have much time anymore to do things. He got a new job at Blockbuster, which is the perfect job for him, and he's just been really busy lately. Now I understand and know that he's not trying to ignore me. He's just been into too much other things. He also said that he wants to be friends. Before I didn't know if he wanted to be friends or if he just wanted to break away from me forever. I wouldn't be able to survive if he just didn't talk to me anymore. But still I don't know what he's thinking. I know he's moved on and I realized that I need to move on too. I don't need a boyfriend all the time. It's hard to be single, and then it's totally fun! It's bittersweet like everything else. I feel so bad for him because he's probably totally stressed out. I think I'll just talk to him like once a week because he has other important things to do. We can be friends. I know we can be friends because we did before. It's just going to be really hard. I would be better if we were more than friends, but we both need to move on. He made me realize that there's more out there to experience other than dating. Dating is really fun, but it can get dull after awhile. I feel so awake now like I was dreaming before. Nathen has changed my life. Many people have changed my life. I am really lucky to have what I have now. Why be depressed all the time? &lt;br /&gt;That's a real big problem with me because I am always depressed. I think the reason for that is because my life and the people in it our depressing. My mom has problems, my two older sisters have problems with it and also some of my very good friends. Why do I have to be another depressing person? What if I am just happy and bummed out sometimes? I also realized I want to do so much more than what I usually do. I think some day I want to go sky diving or bungee jumping. That sounds like a lot of fun. I know I would be totally freaked out, but I think I could do it. Anyway, enough of all this typing. I have much more to do. I just want to say thanks to the people in my life for being who they are. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1277069?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1277069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1277069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1277069' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1268901</id><published>2000-11-04T14:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-04T14:23:17.740-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I saw Nathen and Liz yesterday like I hoped. I slept over at Liz's house and I think we both had a lot of fun. I love sleepovers at her house. They're so much fun and there's always something to do. We watched movies and went on the internet and just hung out. She's so wonderful! Every time I go to her house I always feel comfortable. She's knows how to make people happy. We went to Blockbuster in Lake in the Hills and Nathen was working. I got so nervous. My stomach started to hurt, my body started to shake and I just felt sick. That was the first time I saw him since he broke up with me. I didn't know what he was thinking when I was there. He was probably thinking," what the hell is she doing here?" He looked so wonderful when I saw him. He acted like he usually acts and he was just so...there. I wanted to just touch his face again. Talk to him, but I was so afraid to talk. I wanted to say so much like I miss you to death and you look really cute today, but I can't say that anymore. I know he already moved on. He maybe already found someone he's really interested in. Me...I can't bring myself to love anybody else. Last night, I dreamed that I met him again. I told him a bunch of things like I love him and I miss him, but he didn't care. He even yelled at me in my dream. I know he would never do that to me in real life, but it was just...weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1268901?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1268901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1268901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1268901' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1259239</id><published>2000-11-03T11:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-03T11:21:12.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey! I'm at school again. I have nothing to say but that I miss Nathen and Liz. Hopefully I will see both of them tonight. More later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1259239?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1259239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1259239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1259239' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1254722</id><published>2000-11-02T22:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-02T22:09:37.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I didn't make the basketball team...No! I'm just kidding! I really did make the basketball team. I am on the B team though, but still it's an honor to be on the team. I am actually excited that basketball season is starting. I just hope the girls on the team will be nicer this year than they were last year. I think I will do great this year if I try hard. I didn't do my homework today as usually, but I have been doing my homework at school. Thank god for study halls. Also, my friend Kryssi has been really nice to me lately. She's been writing me notes and she says she feels bad that I'm kinda being left out. At least she knows how I feel. Friends are so wonderful. They can always bring you back up when you're feeling down. I also learn a lot from my friends. I don't know what I would do without them. Also, I'm thinking about inviting Nathen to the movies tomorrow as friends. I also want to bring Liz along because it would be kinda ackward if she wasn't there. She also probably wanted to see a movie too. Anyway, I better go to bed other wise I will never get up tomorrow. More tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1254722?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1254722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1254722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1254722' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1254626</id><published>2000-11-02T21:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-02T21:59:59.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I found a few really good quotes from &lt;a href="http://divinity.je"&gt;Divinity.je&lt;/a&gt; Here are my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never think of the future. It comes soon enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A friend is one who knows you and loves you the same."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is when a person knows who you are and loves you anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for something you are not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1254626?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1254626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1254626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1254626' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1237458</id><published>2000-11-01T08:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-01T08:40:00.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here are some links:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.soap-bubble.com"&gt;Soap-bubble&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clsloser.com"&gt;CLS Loser&lt;/a&gt;-made by the losers of Crystal Lake South High School: Luis, Ryan, Greg&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://divinity.je"&gt;Divinity.je&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clsband.com"&gt;CLS Band&lt;/a&gt;-made by Ryan Morales&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1237458?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1237458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1237458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1237458' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1237425</id><published>2000-11-01T08:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-11-01T08:36:24.460-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's the beginning of a new month! Yippee! That means Christmas vacation is getting closer and closer. Anyway, basketball tryouts seem to be going well. Today is the day I find out whether I make the team or not. I am still really nervous, but I think it will be okay. I failed my Ancient Civilization test probably yesterday. I guess I'll have to try harder next time. This weekend I have to go to the movies. I haven't seen a movie in so long. Except I have to work on Saturday. Halloween yesterday was fun. A lot of people at school were dressed up. Not a lot of trick or treaters came to our house though. That means more candy for me! Anyway, I don't know what else to talk about. I am going to give you a bunch of links to places I go to. Got to get off now because the people in the library our kicking me off. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1237425?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1237425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1237425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_11_01_archive.html#1237425' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1213768</id><published>2000-10-29T20:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2000-10-29T20:40:46.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I have basketball tryouts tomorrow. I am really nervous. There's like a 85% chance that I'll make the team. I have that feeling like I want to be on the team and then I don't. The basketball season is really long and the other girls on the team make me nervous. They know that I suck and I know that I suck. Yesterday I went to the mall with Liz. She is so great to hang with. Sometimes we don't know what to say sometimes and we do have our differences, but she is really great to talk to. She's feels exactly how I feel. We went to two book stores and we both didn't want to leave. Anyway, it was really good to get out of the house. I can't stand being at my house anymore because everything in my house seems depressing to me. I have been eating a lot more too because of it. I keep getting depressed every single weekend. I just need to get happy some how. Ever since Nathen broke up with me, I've just been tired, depressed, lazy, hungry, really bored, and sad. I can't get out of this rut that I'm in. I'm stuck. One good thing about my weekend was that I finally cleaned my room. It was such a disaster before. Also Nathen talked to me today which was nice, but not the same. When I talk to him on the phone he doesn't realize how much pain I'm in. I know he didn't mean to cause me any pain, and he was such a good boyfriend. I think I was the one that caused our relationship to fail. I was so full of myself all the time. I love listening to his voice. I love to hear him talk. He could be calling me a bitchy whore or something and I would still like the way he talks. I even miss him grabbing my ass. He did it all the time and I really didn't mind it. I told him I did, but really I didn't. He also always had these funny faces and he would stick out his tongue. His body made me so horny crazy. But mostly I loved his gourgous eyes. He was beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1213768?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1213768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1213768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1213768' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1193711</id><published>2000-10-27T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-27T08:32:42.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am at school and I just got my report card. It's a pretty good report card, but I could do better. I got like 4 B's and 2 A's. I want to get straight As!! Also today, Nathen's twin is so cute. His eyes are exactly like Nathen's when he stares at me. It drives me crazy. Anyway, I might get to go to Six Flags tomorrow which is cool. That reminds me that I have to call Liz today to ask her if she's going. I also have to work today. Money, money, money!!! Anyway, more later.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1193711?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1193711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1193711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1193711' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1191021</id><published>2000-10-26T22:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-26T22:41:54.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I swear I can be such a bitch sometimes. I am so cruel to my parents. I want to act mean to them because I feel like they're being mean to me, but I know they're not trying to be mean. They know the truth about me. They can see right through me all the time. It's like they can read my mind and I can't stand it. I guess I can't handle the truth. Anyway, I am such a dork. I really need to get better at basketball. I really suck. I also run funny which doesn't help matters. I am not well coordinated I guess, I don't know. Everytime I go to basketball, I feel like someone is always thinking bad thoughts about me or they make fun of me. That's why I have always thought about quitting basketball. I like to play basketball, it's just that I don't know what I'm doing. Everyone else knows that I don't play very well. Some girls in basketball are really nice and they give me compliments. Others tell me what I'm doing wrong, which is I guess a good thing to do too. I guess I'm too sensitive. That's my problem. I need to get a better self-esteem or something. I also wonder if depression is hereditary. I'll have to find that out. Anyway, enough of all these thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1191021?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1191021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1191021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1191021' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1174739</id><published>2000-10-25T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-25T09:00:55.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm at school again thinking about him like always. I actually did my homework today. I am so proud of myself. ::tear:: I'm just kidding. Anyway, school is moving along great now. I think my next report card will be great. Maybe even straight As. Who knows? How do you get someone out of your head? By the way, my friend Kristen talked to him yesterday and he said that he didn't break up with me to go out with another girl. ::sigh of relief:: I know some day though that he will get a girlfriend and when he does, I will be jealous to bits. I miss him so much. I think something came up in his head when he broke up with me. He seems different now or maybe something really bad happened. I don't know. More later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1174739?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1174739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1174739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1174739' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1171352</id><published>2000-10-24T22:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-24T22:07:42.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here I go writing again. I swear I am addicted to blogger already. All my entries are really boring and pointless, but they make me feel better. So, maybe they're not pointless. Anyway, I really want to change. I know I say that a lot, but I really really really want to change. I want to become this girl in my mind. I know that once I become this girl I will want to become who I am now. I know that doesn't make any sense, but as long as it make sense to me, that's all that really counts. I know I am a conceited little bitch. I really think that I am spoiled too. Now, that's one thing I don't want to become. I don't want to be a spoiled brat. I want to buy my own clothes my own stuff and just take care of all these respondsibilities on my own, but I know I can't handle that. I really need to start doing my homework. I never do it anymore and I know I should. I guess I'm lazy. I am such a procrastinator that's my problem. Like my dad says,"You need to take the bull by the horns." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that I love my family. I absolutely love my family. They mean the world to me, but they don't know who I really am. I told Nathen a lot of personal stuff about me. I think he knows more than anyone else. I hope we can be friends. I really don't want to just kick him out of my life, because he is a great friend. I know I tend to get jealous a lot of him, but that's just my nature. I love my friends, except sometimes I think they don't understand. I really need to listen to my friends and understand them more than I usually do. They give me a lot more than just friendship. I guess if I didn't have them, I would probably kill myself. I always say that I am going to kill myself, but I know that I never will. I just want to end all of this chaos. My stress level is up the wall and I made it go up there. All the problems in my life are made by me. I have to live my own life and not count on everyone else to try and guide me. Like I always say, I need a life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, about this girl I want to become. She's organized, creative, optimistic, happy, never depressed, honest, trustworthy, understanding, a good listener, focused, a deep thinker, a daydreamer, outgoing, and just a girl next door. That's who I want to become. But that's just too perfect. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1171352?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1171352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1171352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1171352' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1170001</id><published>2000-10-24T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-24T19:12:55.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why am I always depressed? God damnit what is wrong with me. I really need to get a life. I can't stop thinking about him. Every single day is a struggle to try not to think of him. He called me, but my mom told me not to him back. I don't even know why he called me. What does he want with me anymore? He is so much better than me...why did he call me? I mean I wanted him to call me. I would just wait by the phone and wish for him to call. My heart still feels so hurt. Now that he probably has a girlfriend, I feel even worse. I know he deserves someone better than me, but before he was mine. Now he's gone and he won't come back. God I miss him so much. It kills me. I can't stand this single life. I mean some of it is good, but other wise I would rather be in his arms. I hate being alone. I want his love again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1170001?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1170001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1170001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1170001' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1165384</id><published>2000-10-24T10:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-24T10:10:46.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am at school right now and I found out today that Nathen probably has a girlfriend. That made me so depressed and my self-esteem went down hill. I am of course jealous. I am always jealous. That's my nature. Anyway, I felt sick in geometry. I felt like I was going to throw up or something. Other wise my day was pretty okay. I go an A- on my geometry test which is awesome! I am also getting a B in Biology. It could be better. Anyway, that's all for now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1165384?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1165384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1165384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1165384' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1160725</id><published>2000-10-23T20:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-23T20:44:14.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I'm back again typing in my thoughts because I have been wasting my whole damn day looking at web sites. I am on this computer way too much. I really need to get a life. I have tried to start reading this book called Bridget Jone's Diary. You might have heard of it. Even though I have started a book a long time ago called Where the Heart Is. I always seem lazy to read books or I have to read more than one at a time. I don't know why that is, but I really think that I should read more. Maybe I just try to read books to try to look intelligent. I have really no idea. The only idea in my head right now is that I am depressed. I am always depressed or I always think that I am depressed. I am just so bored of everything that maybe I need something new. I guess I have been really depressed lately since the break up with Nathen. He still hasn't called me since I have wished him happy birthday. I don't understand at why he wants to be friends and then he doesn't call me. I was also very nice to wish him a happy birthday and call him. I know I called him too much since he broke up with me. I just miss him so much that it drives me crazy. My whole life came crashing down on that one night when he came over to my house and ended our loving relationship. We were together for a year! I feel like I wasted a whole year of my life. We called each other every single day. We missed each other and deeply adored each other. At least I thought so. Maybe he really didn't love me or like me at all. Maybe he is like all the other guys and he just wanted sex from me or something, but I don't think so. I think I know everything about him, and yet also I remember him not telling me very much about how he feels about things. I really was blind. I just went through the whole relationship blind as a bat. Now I feel I will never fall in love again. My parents tell me that I will date other guys, but who? Who really gives a damn about me? Lately I have been falling in love with every guy I see. Every time I see a guy I think about what would happen if we dated each other. I just had a dream last night about this guy I saw in the school play. He was a really good kisser. I still remember the kiss. It was like someone's lips were caressing mine so tenderly, I would melt like a stick of butter. God, I really start to wonder what is going to happen with my life. Maybe I will never find anyone again. I know someone is out there though with the same dreams as mine. He's probably thinking about the same thing I am right now. He's looking for someone like me. A girl that doesn't exist. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1160725?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1160725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1160725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1160725' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1156394.post-1156491</id><published>2000-10-23T12:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2000-10-23T12:34:46.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All I can say is welcome everyone! I feel like I am talking to nobody because I know nobody knows about this site except me. I don't know what I am going to do with this right now except to go along and write whatever I feel like and design this site the best I can. You need to start some where. &lt;br /&gt;        So this is past the stars...my little place out in the galaxy in which no one knows about right now. Who knows I might start a party out here once people visit this place. This is my place to get away from the real world, earth, and just dream and think. That's what I love to do. I think everyone else does too. You get sick of the same old rutein (sorry about the spelling) day after day. You need to go to some place where pigs fly, unicorns exist, there's no gravity, and everything is backwards. That's my place. &lt;br /&gt;        So come to my place out here past the stars... and just dream away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1156394-1156491?l=piecesofme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1156491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1156394/posts/default/1156491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piecesofme.blogspot.com/2000_10_01_archive.html#1156491' title=''/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03244963115404426999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
