<?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-7998078531693275641</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:46:40.439-04:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. StupidWorkGirl</title><subtitle type='html'>C U Next Tuesday...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-6530066935437547543</id><published>2009-04-26T23:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T23:50:07.309-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where, oh where...?</title><content type='html'>It's days like today that I miss SWG. Even though she wasn't a persona, as she was a very real girl, I felt like I could be more open with her. She empowered me with her history and her honesty. Of course, she was me; me still hiding, unabashed in all my reclusive glory, only venturing out for small spells of love bordering on fantasy and both real and non-existant sexual story-telling. She was me, with her heartbeat and break, the lover, the mother, the survivor, the poet; both the amuser and the amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a real life now brings both the good and the bad, and it's the bad that makes me miss her the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the muse now, a fact that's bringing me both happiness and just a tiny bit of fear. Is it strange that I'm having trouble writing it now that it's all real life and not some blend of life and fantasy? There's got to be some kind of balance, I still see the fantasy in my poetry. I just haven't quite found it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm smart, and lovely, and awesome, and still me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-6530066935437547543?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/6530066935437547543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/where-oh-where.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/6530066935437547543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/6530066935437547543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/where-oh-where.html' title='Where, oh where...?'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-5210641323067667247</id><published>2009-03-22T11:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T12:10:18.052-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's skip the argument and just get undressed.</title><content type='html'>If you're not saying what you mean, you probably don't mean what you say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me once (or twice, or eleven times) that I was "a little TOO honest". While I've never forgotten that, I've never really cared much either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know all the reasons WHY people aren't absolutely honest. Fear takes the cake as the number one reason why people don't say what's on their minds. Fear of rejection, fear of being alone, fear of what other people may think about you, the list goes on. Also, keeping the peace is high on the list of why people don't just let things fall out of their mouths at a constant rate. Also, love, and other forms of caring, hold us back from blurting things out. It can be a really fine line between cleansing your mind and hurting someone's feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is interesting though how uncomfortable true honesty can make some people. For being honest, I've been called a (insert whatever you want here). But where's the line? Every single person that I've talked to about this gives the same tag line, that they want to hear the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do they really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time ago, not really your business how much time as my point is not to embarrass anyone, I was dating a man that I finally decided to sleep with. For the most part, it was better than decent, he got a 7.5 in my twisted book. One night though, it was just off, and it was both of us (takes two people to have sex usually, so I think that means it takes two people to throw it off). I'd had a small amount of wine, and of course by small amount I mean probably 3 or 4 glasses, and I tested my theory by telling him that it was terrible. Of course, he got mad, but he proved my point. That despite how many times he had told me that he wanted me to be absolutely honest with him, he really didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean that I just go around telling everybody everything, good and bad? No way. It probably makes me a hypocrite even, because I know that not everyone can handle it so I keep things to myself all the time. Also, some things may be unnecessary to say out loud. If my honesty is only going to hurt someone and serves no other purpose at all than that, I tend to keep those things to myself. But if I thought it could help, even as difficult as it may be to say, I try to do my best. It's not a science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to say though, that I am wowed by the people that I can really be honest with and that are truly honest with me. I do care about a lot of people that I know cannot do this, for whatever reason. It doesn't make them bad, just different in ways of thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of telling the truth a few times today...how about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-5210641323067667247?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/5210641323067667247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/03/lets-skip-argument-and-just-get.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5210641323067667247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5210641323067667247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/03/lets-skip-argument-and-just-get.html' title='Let&apos;s skip the argument and just get undressed.'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-3247855977197638360</id><published>2009-02-09T20:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T21:35:51.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know what it's called...</title><content type='html'>I've started this sentence at least twenty times and I erase it because it's not working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear cliches and voices in my head saying, "oh, no, don't say that out loud..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what do I know? The short version (maybe, maybe not):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I let myself be taken advantage of, I chose to go there (let's be clear, he said he wanted me there but he didn't make me go), while I let my quest for answers and my fear get the better of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I finally have an end to the 4 month roller coaster. My answer turned out as simple as the people that love me told me it was, that he was a bad person and that I didn't do anything to deserve what he did to me in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If I never speak to him again, it will be too soon. It's not anger that makes me say that, it's freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. While I am feeling relief that I finally closed a door, it is my belief that I have closed another door as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The thought of that makes me want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Hurting someone's feelings, I don't really know a better way to say that...he wasn't my boyfriend (although I wanted him to be) and the most that he could say was that he thought he might like me a lot (I thought about him a hundred little times throughout the day)...he was important me to and hurting his feelings makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. In order to fix one thing, I broke another. I should have just talked to him about what was going on with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I'm starting to wonder about myself...I've never been big on lying to myself, but I feel like I did this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. An obsessive need for answers and fear shouldn't touch on the plate, as they do not go well together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I miss someone. He's lovely and well... I meet him and it scares me. How screwed up is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. My brother did a good job taking care of me yesterday. I asked him why he doesn't say "I told ya so," and he just loves me. He said, "that's kinda my job".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I should stop before I sound whiny (ridiculous and crazy is fine though).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-3247855977197638360?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/3247855977197638360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-know-what-its-called.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/3247855977197638360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/3247855977197638360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-know-what-its-called.html' title='I don&apos;t know what it&apos;s called...'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-1859075934960739080</id><published>2009-01-25T21:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T22:17:31.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and My Box</title><content type='html'>Things that don't suck today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;The Rectangle&lt;/span&gt;     I did drive in a rectangle. I panicked, but luckily for me, there really are some understanding people in this world. I'm going to try again in a week and actually I feel much better about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh, my pretty Valentine...&lt;/span&gt;   I've decided to make a homemade Valentine because Hallmark didn't carry my sentiment. I know, I'm such a girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Sweet Cherry&lt;/span&gt;    I've been sad without my Door County wine, but I found a lovely cherry wine while on my rectangle trip that I really enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Falling off a steep cliff&lt;/span&gt;     Slowly but surely I'm feeling a lot better about the whole thing. It's funny how time works...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Karma Police&lt;/span&gt;     I'm thinking they work at my work and this is a very good thing. The truth lies within...I'm just sayin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Effort doesn't start with an A&lt;/span&gt;     I'm loving the poetry right now, it's a little bit sassy. Perhaps I'll share...maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;However, America does start with an A&lt;/span&gt;     Baby steps, big brother, baby steps...you'll be here soon enough (I hope).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;That seems like A LOT of coffee&lt;/span&gt;     I'm smiling in scoops right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;P.S.&lt;/span&gt;  I heard a rumor about you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-1859075934960739080?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/1859075934960739080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/me-and-my-box.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/1859075934960739080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/1859075934960739080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/me-and-my-box.html' title='Me and My Box'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-7847263360856923634</id><published>2009-01-24T21:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T21:47:16.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's that word I'm looking for...?</title><content type='html'>This just makes me laugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas and Emma M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SXvScCU12lI/AAAAAAAAABM/t664UHCsgFY/s1600-h/Emma+in+Hospital+016+(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SXvScCU12lI/AAAAAAAAABM/t664UHCsgFY/s320/Emma+in+Hospital+016+(Small).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295057166006606418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-7847263360856923634?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/7847263360856923634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-that-word-im-looking-for.html#comment-form' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/7847263360856923634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/7847263360856923634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-that-word-im-looking-for.html' title='What&apos;s that word I&apos;m looking for...?'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SXvScCU12lI/AAAAAAAAABM/t664UHCsgFY/s72-c/Emma+in+Hospital+016+(Small).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-7584595819784475281</id><published>2009-01-19T22:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:03:41.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Possibility</title><content type='html'>I think that I was born with a love song stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intense, moving, a wishing well of tears and a relaxing falling into something that only looks crafted, but is actually natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the cello or the piano, love brings a momentum that can reach out and grab you, while turning soft at just the right minute to envelope your entire existence. It can actually create mood arguments within a simple human being, as we all know that the very thing that many of us dream of can become merciless and dismissive in just a heart beat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when it's good, it can stay in a soul's memory for a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathing with a life of its own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I find myself singing along without even realizing it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-7584595819784475281?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/7584595819784475281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/possibility.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/7584595819784475281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/7584595819784475281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/possibility.html' title='Possibility'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-3827864527536029442</id><published>2009-01-15T18:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T18:38:28.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My welcome what?</title><content type='html'>I'm kind of in the mood for a plastic fork to the eye...mine, someone else's, no matter, it's all the same...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-3827864527536029442?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/3827864527536029442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-welcome-what.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/3827864527536029442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/3827864527536029442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-welcome-what.html' title='My welcome what?'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-5112398935465915852</id><published>2009-01-10T20:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T20:38:21.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go to my room!</title><content type='html'>Things that don't suck today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;5 Year Old Love&lt;/span&gt;       Nicholas left me the best message ever. "Hi Mama, I love you, I'm going sledding and then to hockey and then dinner and then a drink and then bed. The cat is meowing, why is the cat meowing? I love you Mama."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Paws off the baby bot&lt;/span&gt;         Yay, for chat babies and build-a-bot. Our chat room is coming along nicely and now you can ask the help desk anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Sibling Rivalry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;        I've missed my brother and our football squabbles. Tonight has been fun with him. And we agree on one thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Left my heart in Nashville &lt;/span&gt;         But I laughed my ass off when the Ravens beat the Titans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Can you read?!?!&lt;/span&gt;          I got an e-mail at work yesterday that I'll be laughing about for awhile. People should actually read it out loud when they create an e-mail address. Seriously, I don't care what your name is. jodoinbob@_____ . com is just too freaking funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Butter shot me!&lt;/span&gt;          Love Buttershots and Baileys and have had way too much of it in the last two nights. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Boys will be boys &lt;/span&gt;         Age is just a number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poetry is for losers &lt;/span&gt;         Ooooh, pick me, pick me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is just a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a good time call....me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-5112398935465915852?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/5112398935465915852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/go-to-my-room_10.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5112398935465915852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5112398935465915852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/go-to-my-room_10.html' title='Go to my room!'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-5449175462551765754</id><published>2009-01-10T11:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T12:18:23.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>Incredulous, My Offense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the back porch, having my last half cigarette of the day, the rain reminded me of a manic cycle much like the one that I've been putting to rest. Without seconds, the water goes from constant clicking repetition to a harsh and pushing upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny thing happened to my narcissistic metaphor just then, as I pictured you standing in the storm. Icy rain pelted you and while I was cold and wet, the want to reach out and grab you was strong and fierce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I thought about you weathering the nastiest part in the dark of night, I thought about how you'd actually been there the whole day long. Realizing that brought slow and light tears to my cheeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stood out there for me, as the tick tock rain drops persisted with a constant rhythmic, gentle tapping. I heard your voice in my mind, telling me the same things over and over...you love me, we're okay, I make you happy, you want a life with me...repeat, repeat, repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grace in which you've held onto me so tightly has amazed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With so many things happening around us, weathering life with its sirens and surprise, you stood out there for me for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can ever give you shelter like you've given me, I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-5449175462551765754?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/5449175462551765754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/go-to-my-room.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5449175462551765754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5449175462551765754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/go-to-my-room.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-964465572083062566</id><published>2009-01-10T10:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T11:00:58.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've had a little TOO much cowbell</title><content type='html'>On letting go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found that it's easier to do when he's calm and I can see the parts of him that I fell for in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logically, that doesn't make a lot of sense to me as you'd think that seeing glimpses of "the old him" would draw me in closer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's the good parts of him that I want to take with me as I continue my journey. His funny redneck comments, slapstick sense of humor, the oxymoron of his soothing rough voice... there are certain things that whenever I hear them, I think of him. I'm glad that a lot of those things are positive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll care for him a little bit longer while he needs me and then I'll let him go and be wiser and happier for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-964465572083062566?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/964465572083062566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-had-little-too-much-cowbell.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/964465572083062566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/964465572083062566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-had-little-too-much-cowbell.html' title='I&apos;ve had a little TOO much cowbell'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-5260619915537687106</id><published>2009-01-07T20:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T21:16:48.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Delete me again...and, oh baby, again and again</title><content type='html'>Mixed emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to his voice...that voice that I came to need, the soothing part of my day, the man that I believed loved me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing his voice today has brought me all kinds of feelings. I'm up, I'm down, I talk too much, I have no idea what to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing a decent job in the last month of trying to process and delete the bad parts, much like he deleted me. There was a period of time when I was angry and I dealt with it because I'm not going to walk around and be that person. I refuse to be that bitter person that doesn't get rid of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong enough to let myself cry and smart enough to know that this, too, shall pass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it's not all brave shield. Today I felt girl pathetic and just as dumb as ever wanting to reach for him. If I could have crawled through the phone to just hold him, I surely would have. I'm going to worry about him even more than I was, he's not in the best of shape after a death in the immediate family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not going to hide from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm going to let myself have a few tears and some bad poetry and the incredibly sinking knowledge that I am going to be just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is just another term for crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-5260619915537687106?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/5260619915537687106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/delete-me-againand-oh-baby-again-and.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5260619915537687106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/5260619915537687106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/delete-me-againand-oh-baby-again-and.html' title='Delete me again...and, oh baby, again and again'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-6740381011423012732</id><published>2009-01-05T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:39:27.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you see Kay on the First Date</title><content type='html'>Things that don't suck today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Lily was better than Dolly&lt;/span&gt;     Back to work, thank gawd. 4 days off was just too many, made me all anxious and itchy. Well, maybe that was the cold, dry weather too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Emma M&lt;/span&gt;     My ex husband and his gf had their baby this morning. I'm happy for them and oh, so glad it's not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Wishing you a Merry Christmas &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;   No, I'm not late, but my son was. I got his gift the other day and he did so good picking me out something just for me. It's a pretty silver snowglobe with music. He was proud of himself for what he'd picked and I was too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Life gives you lemons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;     You find a cute boy mechanic to fix it for you. I'm crossing my fingers, not  for the cute boy (been there, done him), but I really need new brakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Frankly, my dear... &lt;/span&gt;     I'm not sure if being indifferent is good or bad, but it certainly feels better than being sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Oh, pretty Valentine... &lt;/span&gt;   A girl can dream of a romantic Valentine's Day, right.... Batch of flowers: $50.00, Box of candy: $15.00, Hallmarky card: $3.00, Deciding that you deserve more than an internet love song: Priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Dancing with myself  &lt;/span&gt;    On a dead girl's grave. I'm not reinventing myself, just changing names. I'm still the same bad writing, off my chair, crazy, in love with football and boys and coffee and wine, girl that you've always known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be good, lovelies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-6740381011423012732?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/6740381011423012732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-you-see-kay-on-first-date.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/6740381011423012732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/6740381011423012732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-you-see-kay-on-first-date.html' title='If you see Kay on the First Date'/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7998078531693275641.post-4786336792902266745</id><published>2009-01-04T22:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T22:35:23.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've not decided which one I like best...but for now, I'll camp out here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7998078531693275641-4786336792902266745?l=deletemetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/4786336792902266745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-not-decided-which-one-i-like-best.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/4786336792902266745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7998078531693275641/posts/default/4786336792902266745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deletemetoday.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-not-decided-which-one-i-like-best.html' title=''/><author><name>DeleteMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305692230002215745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M4ke9Khm3Pw/SWQp0Jn4diI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7pTCTeVAuUA/S220/0220081807.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
