<?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-8015814765653490226</id><updated>2011-07-31T01:30:36.129-04:00</updated><category term='rickett&apos;s glen'/><title type='text'>Girl for a New World</title><subtitle type='html'>I wanted to try something new.  These are my inner-most thoughts, wildest dreams, and daily adventures.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5658343448421419155</id><published>2009-12-07T15:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T15:31:47.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>But if you left it up to me</title><content type='html'>I love PostSecret, and I love the fact that I have someone's secret as my desktop background.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that makes everything all right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5658343448421419155?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5658343448421419155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5658343448421419155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5658343448421419155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5658343448421419155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/12/but-if-you-left-it-up-to-me.html' title='But if you left it up to me'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2398736350428470194</id><published>2009-11-09T22:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T22:45:20.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If music be the food of love...</title><content type='html'>"Play on" if you're a fan of Shakespeare; "Sing on," if you're a fan of PMEA District 9 Chorus 2003.  Both have great meaning to me, so...yeah.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm taking a brief break from my regularly scheduled NaNoWriMo-ing to visit my blog.  I had a lovely realization this evening on my ride home from choir, and I felt the need to comment on it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never officially participated in PAI, but I am starting to understand that "Art is a bond."  Side note: Let's face it; if I had gone to PAI, the only thing that would have happened would have been that my love for a certain then long-haired choir director would have gotten a shot at an earlier start.  Thus, not so sad that I never had a bajillion dollars to cough up for that program.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Art is a bond."  Looking back over all of my friendships, past and present, I realized that the strongest and longest lasting friendships I have had have all been forged in music or theater.  "Art is a bond."  I have this feeling that it's the music that's been keeping us connected for all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to some District Chorus pieces on the car ride home, and, as bad as I now realize they are (let's face it; I'm a grown-up choir girl now in a grown-up choir that can actually cut off together...most of the time), I can't help but smile.  I still remember most of the words, and I still remember some of the notes, but it's really the people that made the music come alive.  And at the same time, it was the music that made us come alive for each other.  I always try to look towards the future and welcome growth and change, but if this is the stuff I'm going to get nostalgic for every now and then, I couldn't ask for anything better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those of you who read this and were there: you understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2398736350428470194?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2398736350428470194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2398736350428470194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2398736350428470194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2398736350428470194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-music-be-food-of-love.html' title='If music be the food of love...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8635769649712807902</id><published>2009-10-13T13:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T13:14:47.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I should be doing right now:</title><content type='html'>1) Grading papers&lt;br /&gt;2) grading quiz corrections&lt;br /&gt;3) Writing a donation request letter to my place of employment from the non-profit choir that I sing with&lt;br /&gt;4) Applying to Grad school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I am actually doing:&lt;br /&gt;1) Writing in this blog&lt;br /&gt;2) Looking at the papers I have to grade with generous amounts of loathing&lt;br /&gt;3) Having no clue where those quizzes even are in my grading folder&lt;br /&gt;4) Gearing up to play a few games of Bejeweled Blitz before my next class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With those things in mind, I'm actually having a pretty solid day.  Sometimes I forget what good conversation can do for my general outlook on life.  I had two good conversations so far today, and my afternoon class is always good for a few laughs, especially when I get stuck on ridiculous examples like "Panda bears and sunshine are the most important things in a girl's life." and use them to illustrate every concept that I am attempting to teach.  For example, when talking about major versus minor details I might say "Discuss three reasons why panda bears and sunshine are the most important things in a girl's life."  Or when I am explaining the concept of just stating the main idea of a paragraph instead of over-telling me, I will probably say "Don't write 'I am going to discuss three reasons why panda bears and sunshine are the most important things in a girl's life.' Write 'Panda bears and sunshine are the most important things in a girl's life because they are warm, cuddly, and bright.'"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My afternoon class enjoys these examples.  My morning class does not stop speaking Hindi long enough to let me make funny examples.  Ah, the trials and tribulations of a part-time adjunct professor at a local community college.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking note of the fact that I am writing exactly the opposite way I am teaching my students to write.  My excuse for this is that I am teaching them academic writing, and I am merely blogging at the moment.  So there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8635769649712807902?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8635769649712807902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8635769649712807902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8635769649712807902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8635769649712807902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-i-should-be-doing-right-now.html' title='Things I should be doing right now:'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-6278023429121805111</id><published>2009-10-07T23:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T23:04:16.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance is your new best friend.</title><content type='html'>I never could explain why it is that I tend to want to blog after typing a ridiculous amount of school work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I never will.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I don't feel like it anymore, haha.  I think I'll just go to bed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll bring my laptop with me to campus tomorrow.  I hide out in the library a lot, and I always seem to run out of things to do on my break.  Laptop time should fix that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-6278023429121805111?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/6278023429121805111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=6278023429121805111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6278023429121805111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6278023429121805111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/10/ignorance-is-your-new-best-friend.html' title='Ignorance is your new best friend.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4398475280746292031</id><published>2009-09-11T16:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T16:46:38.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An update.</title><content type='html'>I always find the urge to blog when I am nowhere near a computer or near a computer that would be an unwise choice for the bloggings.  Today is a prime example of this.  I actually subbed for a computer teacher who (first time EVER) left me a log on for a computer.  I started thinking about all of the wonderful things I could write, and then I realizes that School District in Which I am Subbing probably would not appreciate my bloggish musings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly do not feel like writing right now.  However, I feel compelled to do so. I will explain why in a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August was a bit of a whirlwind, so a general update on my whereabouts and well-being might be in order.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved out of 517.  This was fraught with drama, and unnecessary bad feelings were foisted upon me.  I moved out and moved on over to the West side, in with Boyfriend.  I have been living here ever since.  Very happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the flip side of that very happy, School that I Wanted to Teach at Full-Time hired 4 people to teach English and none of them were me.  Not cool.  However, the very next day I got a call from Local Community College asking me if I would be interested in teaching a few lower level English classes.  I accepted, so now I teach college on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sub on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and work at the good old Lodge on the weekends.  With all of this, I believe I will have managed to cobble together the sort of acceptable income that allows me to live on my own but not save anything or have health insurance.  Welcome to my mid-twenties.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I felt compelled to write and will attempt to continue feeling compelled to write is my LCCC class.  I gave my students an assignment that is designed to force them to write in a journal twice a week, and I feel like I would be letting them down if I were not practicing what I am preaching.  So, while I teach them about nouns and verbs and stuff, I will be muddling along with them in their journal-writing struggles.  And I promise I will work on concluding sentences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4398475280746292031?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4398475280746292031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4398475280746292031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4398475280746292031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4398475280746292031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/09/update.html' title='An update.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1261517666586898854</id><published>2009-07-27T23:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T23:43:06.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait, what?</title><content type='html'>I have titled this post as such because I have a habit of mishearing things.  I often have to ask my friends and students to repeat themselves.  It's something I'm working on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real idea that sparked this blog entry was the fact that I often tend to mishear song lyrics.  I'm sure that I am not alone in this matter, but sometimes I get rather upset when I hear the wrong thing.  I'm an English teacher, and I have been taughtt to critically read.  Song lyrics are just poems set to music, therefore I pay a lot of attention to the multiple layers of meanings that come with lyrics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with this critical approach to lyrics coupled with my frequency to mishear lyrics is that I tend to form opinions of songs based on the lyrics I think I hear.  When I eventually get around to looking up the words on various websites and I find that they are not what I think I heard, I generally get upset.  I can think of three specific times this has occurred in recent times. All three of these instances revolve around a single misheard word, but these words seriously affect the meaning of the particular lyric and/or the entire song for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Jack's Mannequin - "Miss California" &lt;br /&gt;I initially heard the lyrics to the refrain as "You'll be Miss, Miss California/ You'll be kissed by only me." As I was trolling the internets, I came across the slight tidbit of information that it is actually "You'll be missed, Miss California."  And this could be an incorrect or way out there interpretation, but the repetition of "miss" versus "missed" when looked at in the context of the rest of lyrics of song causes me to infer that "Miss California" is not going with our narrator willingly.  And that makes me dislike the message of the song a little bit.  Instead of me hearing a song about two people running away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, I now hear a song about a dude trying to sequester his lady-friend.  Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Raine Maida - "Yellow Brick Road"&lt;br /&gt;I've only just recently begun listening to the amazingness that is Raine Maida's solo album that features all acoustic instruments, spoken word, and oodles of those deep lyrics that I love to interpret as applying to my life and my life only as if they were written just for me.  Narcissist in the house.  Aside from Raine quoting T.S. Eliot in this song (and not just any old T.S. lines, oh no.  It had to be one of my fav lines from my fav poem, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"), I initially heard my other favorite line in the song as "We were having a near-life experience."  I LOVED the idea of this line, because I've heard all about near-death experiences, but who thinks of NEAR-LIFE experiences?? Brilliant!  Then I looked up the lyrics, and found that all of the lyrics sites I checked stated that the line was actually "We were having a mere life experience."  How cheap! To imply that these people that are described in this fantastic song are just "merely living" lessened the impact of that line.  Thankfully, I have chosen to believe that my hearing of the lyrics is the correct one as I have now listened to the song about 20 more times, and I am convinced of an 'n' sound rather than an 'm.'  I have also seriously considered creating a new Myspace in order to friend Raine Maida and message him this very question, "Near or mere, pal?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Our Lady Peace - "Sorry"&lt;br /&gt;Go figure, another Raine Maida related incident.  This one is actually a lyric that was not "misheard" by me.  I heard the first lyric of this song as "Today's a reason for living."  All of the lyrics sites I have checked seem to agree with me.  However, Boyfriend hears "Today's THE reason for living."  Even though this is not my hearing of the lyric, it still creates an entirely different interpretation of the song for me.  Instead of "today" being one of many reasons to live, when we hear "today" as "the" reason for living, I feel that it excludes a lot of other things worth living for.  Tomorrow is a pretty good reason for living, too.  Oreos, too.  Laughter.  The first season of Dollhouse on DVD with a super-secret-never-before-aired-epilogue-episode.  Lots of other reasons for living.  Although I could see that today being THE reason for living would lend itself to those "live for the now" people, I do like my interpretation better, and, since it seems that the interweb agrees with me, I have managed to stick with my reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose the moral of this story (blog post?) is that words matter.  Actions might speak louder than words, but the difference between "a" and "the" can be broad enough to blow your mind.  So, choose your words wisely!  You never know what crazy English teacher might be decoding and deciphering them at this very moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1261517666586898854?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1261517666586898854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1261517666586898854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1261517666586898854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1261517666586898854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/07/wait-what.html' title='Wait, what?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8431044178728248296</id><published>2009-07-23T02:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T02:58:09.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me mad #1</title><content type='html'>I have not felt compelled to blog for quite some time.  Shame on me.  Anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like that some of my blogger friends have frequent posts that follow the same theme or pattern.  Thus begins "Things that make me mad." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, I drove into Manhattan with Boyfriend to go see Our Lady Peace at Irving Plaza.  (Things that make me glad #1?)  The show was so amazing that I got the idea at approximately 2:35 this morning (approximately 10 minutes ago) to check LiveNation's site to see if there were any tickets left for the Philly show.  Yes, OLP was that good.  So good, in fact, that I would like to see them again in a little less than a month.  That's just dandy, isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here's the thing that makes me mad.  You might think that there were no tickets available.  Ah, but there were.  I could not get them in the cheaper 4 pack promotion because it seems that there may be not be any of those promotional packs left.  Alas.  So, I checked for two adults, and I found two tickets available at the $20 price.  Great, right?  After Tuesday's show, $40 seems like a more than fair ticket price.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw the actual purchase page.  On top of each $20 ticket price was a convenience charge of $10 and a venue fee of $2.  Seriously?  That made each ticket cost $32 apiece, and seriously made me rethink purchasing these tickets.  I understand that the economy is shitty and we all have to make money some way or another, but is it really necessary for a THIRD of the ticket price to be random fees?  Why not just say that the price of a ticket is $32 and leave it at that?  It looks way better than saying the ticket is $20 and then spanking the ass of the unassuming consumer with a ridiculous amount of convenience charges.  I love you, Raine Maida...but fuck that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing a lot of reading about the whole proposed LiveNation/Ticketmaster merger/monopoly/cluster-fuck, and I really can't decide if the whole concert industry is going to get better or worse because of it.  They say that by merging or buying each other out or monopolozing the concert industry or what-fucking-ever they're going to reinvent the concert-going experience and ultimately make live music by national and international touring acts (like badass Canadian rockers such as OLP) more affordable and accessible to the masses.  LiveMaster or TicketNation will then save the world with the power of rock and the concert-goer will be happy and the venue will be happy and the artist will be happy and we'll all get naked together and have one giant lovefest-orgy of happiness.  Maybe I'm just skeptical of corporate America, but I really don't see that happening.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really loved the OLP concert because it was in a venue like The Fillmore at Irving Plaza.  It felt like a club show because it was a small venue and we were packed in like sardines and Raine Maida is fucking crazy and climbs balconies.  I don't think that I should have to pay $40+ for a club show because of ridiculous fees.  I end my rant having no idea what I would like to see happen.  I think that $32 is still way too high a ticket price for a show at a relatively small venue, so maybe more people would still balk at sky-high prices if the fees were just included in the face value of the ticket.  I have no real answers; I just wanted to bitch for a little.  Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8431044178728248296?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8431044178728248296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8431044178728248296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8431044178728248296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8431044178728248296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/07/things-that-make-me-mad-1.html' title='Things that make me mad #1'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5469592769954619087</id><published>2009-05-12T22:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:07:48.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'>High School might never end...</title><content type='html'>But I don't think anyone ever really experiences a high quite like being in love at your senior prom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about that today while I listened to the seniors in the class I was subbing for talk about prom and various senior activities and graduation, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school was a really good time for me.  I know that it was not for other people.  But I doubt that anyone can argue the intensity of the feelings we all felt.  Whether they were good or bad, it was likely that it was the first time you were really feeling them.  Maybe I'm wrong; maybe I'm the only one who became hyper-aware of myself and my emotions during those crazy four years.  And maybe I was the only one who was wishing it didn't have to end because nothing could ever be that good and that bad and that wonderful and that terrible all at the same time.  And sometimes in the same moment.  The same instant.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I am so not forgetting college.  College was awesome, too.  But it was a different kind of awesome.  It was awesome without the innocence.  That's a big part of it, I think.  The fact that, for me at least, there was still an innocence about high school.  That made the kids who picked on me seem that much worse.  That made the first kiss I shared with the first boy I fell in love with that much sweeter, that much more important.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come very far since high school, and I have farther still to go.  As much as being a substitute teacher sucks at the moment, it's really nice to be able to watch certain kids relish in the experiences, the joys and the pains, with the same vigor that I did.  Those who know me know that I've always been a person who succumbs to nostalgia easily.  I like the perspective this side of the desk is giving me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5469592769954619087?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5469592769954619087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5469592769954619087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5469592769954619087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5469592769954619087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/05/high-school-might-never-end.html' title='High School might never end...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-6253195653753933037</id><published>2009-05-02T10:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T10:27:32.264-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1,000,001</title><content type='html'>That's how many different thoughts I feel are going through my head right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to mail out my crestwood app.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to actually print all of the components of my crestwood app. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I don't want to fuck with the printer because it needs a new cartridge.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We print way too much stuff in this apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe moving away won't be such a terrible idea after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I need a fresh start of sorts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure I wouldn't engage in any sort of long distance relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's normal to have doubts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not weird, I'm normal.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all keep something or other from everyone else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can be completely honest and open.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I had that once? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to get out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to shower and go for a walk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-6253195653753933037?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/6253195653753933037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=6253195653753933037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6253195653753933037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6253195653753933037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/05/1000001.html' title='1,000,001'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1059956665313963601</id><published>2009-04-30T11:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T11:06:05.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Realization.</title><content type='html'>Everyone that has ever gotten close to me still has a piece of my heart.  Especially if that closeness felt unresolved in any way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't take this the wrong way.  But I think that there will always be a tiny piece of me that loves you in a ridiculously inappropriate way.  There's something that I haven't told anyone, primarily because I didn't realize it til 2 minutes ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1059956665313963601?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1059956665313963601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1059956665313963601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1059956665313963601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1059956665313963601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/realization.html' title='Realization.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5640796448989936412</id><published>2009-04-23T17:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T17:52:10.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm such a quitter.</title><content type='html'>Obviously, I have given up on BEDA.  I have come to the conclusion that I will only write when I want to.  Do not pressure me, April, to write something, anything, every day, for it only turns out to be meaningless crap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realized how much the shake-up in Boyfriend's band really affected me.  Granted, it affects me greatly due to me being the new lead singer.  Shameless self-promotion?  But I also feel like I lost two friends in the process.  Although, maybe they weren't really all that good friends to me in the first place? I suppose I barely knew them? I'm questioning a lot of things lately.  And like the students' papers that I see every time I substitute, I either suck at adding necessary detail, or I just don't feel like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5640796448989936412?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5640796448989936412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5640796448989936412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5640796448989936412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5640796448989936412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-such-quitter.html' title='I&apos;m such a quitter.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-6289045404653730268</id><published>2009-04-12T23:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T23:37:14.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BEDA 12: Vindictive?</title><content type='html'>Hope you were there tonight.  Hope you heard those tunes and remembered what a douchey person you are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-6289045404653730268?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/6289045404653730268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=6289045404653730268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6289045404653730268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6289045404653730268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/beda-12-vindictive.html' title='BEDA 12: Vindictive?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5979970975168819309</id><published>2009-04-11T13:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T13:28:17.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I suck at BEDA.  Last night was awesome.  That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5979970975168819309?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5979970975168819309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5979970975168819309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5979970975168819309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5979970975168819309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-suck-at-beda.html' title=''/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7965002976310956981</id><published>2009-04-09T12:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T12:47:37.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Used all my best thoughts in a comment.</title><content type='html'>I'm bad at thinking lately.  So read this response to &lt;a href="http://ablogofherown.wordpress.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super Amazing College Choir Director That I Am In Love With Despite His Being Married did that with his now wife, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been thinking on marriage a lot lately (mostly due to reading your blog, haha) and I think I would like to hyphenate last names. I like my last name too much to do away with completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you have free time tomorrow, my friend Jess is coming over, and we’re going to watch Twilight and play our patent-pending Twilight drinking game. Every time Edward broods, do a shot. We’ll be drunk within the first 23 minutes of the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, congratulations. I am super-de-dooper excited for you. And should def be invited to wedding. Just saying. Or, if you need music during the service, I could totally provide that. With my voice. I don’t play any instruments. An a capella version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D? Damnit. I was supposed to be blogging for myself. Perhaps I will just post this comment as my blog entry?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7965002976310956981?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7965002976310956981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7965002976310956981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7965002976310956981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7965002976310956981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/used-all-my-best-thoughts-in-comment.html' title='Used all my best thoughts in a comment.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4859310242694130633</id><published>2009-04-08T22:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T22:43:32.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April 8 - Interview Part 1</title><content type='html'>These questions came to me awhile ago from one &lt;a href="http://iepoch.wordpress.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  I've just gotten the nerve to answer them now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) There's at least one person you wish you could tell something that you never had the courage to say. Say it now without mentioning his/her name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite torn up about this in the way that you might think.  Not anymore.  But maybe I should have communicated with you better.  I complained a lot about all the problems, to the point that friends of mine formed horrible opinions of you.  But I suppose I just couldn't understand that communication is supposed to go both ways.  I could have opened the lines, and I didn't.  So, maybe I took the easy way out.  I think that we're both better off for it anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4859310242694130633?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4859310242694130633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4859310242694130633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4859310242694130633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4859310242694130633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-8-interview-part-1.html' title='April 8 - Interview Part 1'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7121610501086097416</id><published>2009-04-07T18:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:36:43.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April 7. Yes. I missed a day.</title><content type='html'>I was actually considering backdating an entry, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.  The sad part about yesterday is that I did absolutely nothing other than go to school, sleep, go to choir, and sleep some more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My main accomplishments from the last week or so have been:&lt;br /&gt;-Getting an interview with Upward Bound for a position as the theatre teacher.&lt;br /&gt;-Just having to submit a letter of intent to Lake Lehman in order to get an interview for a full time English position.&lt;br /&gt;-My bffl is arriving in the United States in less than 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;-I'll be starting Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows tomorrow during school, which will bring my whirlwind rereading of the entire HP series to a close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will actually answer some questions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7121610501086097416?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7121610501086097416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7121610501086097416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7121610501086097416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7121610501086097416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-7-yes-i-missed-day.html' title='April 7. Yes. I missed a day.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1461690699458215416</id><published>2009-04-05T06:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T06:58:44.149-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Even if I didn't major in English, books would still be a huge part of my life.</title><content type='html'>And as I find the ones that I truly love, I will continue to reread them.  I am currently reading the Harry Potter series again.  I'm doing a full read through, and I'm in the middle of Order of the Phoenix.  This will probably be the 6th or 7th time that I have done this.  On break from work yesterday, my manager asked me what I was reading.  I told him, and his response, like so many others', was "Again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, again.  I love these books.  They are wonderfully told stories, and J. K. Rowling has managed to create a world that entices and amazes me.  Why would I not want to visit that world as much as possible?  Beside that fact, it is possible to miss quite a bit in 7 books.  It's also quite possible to forget a lot in 7 books.  With each repeated reading, I read more closely, and pick up on things I might have missed the first...5 times.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This defense of multiple readings segues nicely into why the majority of my friends are my friends.  They understand these facts about me without question.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1461690699458215416?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1461690699458215416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1461690699458215416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1461690699458215416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1461690699458215416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/even-if-i-didnt-major-in-english-books.html' title='Even if I didn&apos;t major in English, books would still be a huge part of my life.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2910242495839640691</id><published>2009-04-04T10:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T10:50:19.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April 4</title><content type='html'>I promise I will get back to more interesting and innovative titles very soon.  If I were awesome enough that I could have people ask me questions like John Green, then I feel that BEDA would be even more awesome.  Alas, I am not THAT awesome.  I never forget to be awesome, but some people's level of awesome is definitely way above mine.  Anywho, Wrestlemania party tomorrow.  Yeah, I said it.  Now I have to go shower and get ready for my day and all that jazz...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2910242495839640691?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2910242495839640691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2910242495839640691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2910242495839640691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2910242495839640691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-4.html' title='April 4'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7580798511428027517</id><published>2009-04-03T15:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T15:49:36.771-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April 3</title><content type='html'>I read in the paper today that a teacher from Lake Lehman resigned with a few months left to go in the school year.  Apparently he did this once before at Hazleton, but still got hired at Lehman.  This makes me think a million different things, all of which generally lead up to: I have to step up my game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7580798511428027517?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7580798511428027517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7580798511428027517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7580798511428027517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7580798511428027517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-3.html' title='April 3'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1926002123580028340</id><published>2009-04-02T18:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T18:54:45.291-04:00</updated><title type='text'>English majors are a dime a dozen.</title><content type='html'>Never has this statement been so true.  Today, I went over the main office for a summer program that my roommate was involved in last summer.  The same program that rejected me last summer.  The director of the program told me that she would keep me in mind, which apparently she did, as she greeted me relatively warmly when I entered her office.  She told me that she was just looking at my application, but what she really needed were some more math and science oriented tutor counselors.  Awesome.  I'm not so good at those subjects.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there may be a light at the end of the tunnel in the form of the possibility of becoming the theatre teacher for the program.  That would be neat.  And a nice thing to put on a resume.  And I'd get to plan daily lessons and things.  So, we'll see.  Cross your fingers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1926002123580028340?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1926002123580028340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1926002123580028340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1926002123580028340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1926002123580028340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/english-majors-are-dime-dozen.html' title='English majors are a dime a dozen.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4623889995931374853</id><published>2009-04-01T22:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T22:16:28.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BEDA</title><content type='html'>I'm going to do it.  I neglect my blog far too much.  If it's good enough for John Green and Maureen Johnson, it's good enough for me.  I can't guarantee that my participation in BEDA will produce any high quality blog writing, but I suppose we're really looking for quantity, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New post.  Every day.  Blog every day April.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4623889995931374853?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4623889995931374853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4623889995931374853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4623889995931374853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4623889995931374853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/04/beda.html' title='BEDA'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5827462010390832601</id><published>2009-03-24T06:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T06:54:47.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One down...</title><content type='html'>One ridiculous thing to go.  RDC just finished the annual Bach Festival on Sunday.  That's a load off my mind.  Now, I just have to really actually learn my effing lines for this other thing I'm doing, which will be over come Saturday night.  I have inventory on Sunday, so I'm looking at approximately 12 hours of work, but then everything winds down and goes back to normal for a bit.  And hopefully by going back to normal for a bit I mean that my voice comes back at 100%.  I'm tired of pussy-footing around when it comes to singing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I really hated the St. John's Passion when we started it for Bach fest.  Now, I can't get it out of my head.  It truly was a wonderful experience, and I'm lucky to have had it.  I wanted to wax poetic on how there are very few things that can cause me to shed tears of sheer happiness.  I'm not going to go into ridiculous detail, but my choir director at the end of a really strong performance is one of those people who can make you cry tears of joy through the mere strength of his enthusiasm.  A few tears did squeak out.  And it was awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5827462010390832601?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5827462010390832601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5827462010390832601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5827462010390832601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5827462010390832601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-down.html' title='One down...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4766528563325498477</id><published>2009-03-11T06:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T06:14:08.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>?</title><content type='html'>I'm having a hard time writing in here.  Everything is way too up and down at this point to really get a handle on anything before I'm jerked to the next thing or idea or plan.  I've been writing a lot of journal entries on actual paper as I'm subbing.  I'll get around to putting those in here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4766528563325498477?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4766528563325498477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4766528563325498477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4766528563325498477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4766528563325498477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2486374546217412721</id><published>2009-02-20T20:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:00:02.664-05:00</updated><title type='text'>525,600 minutes.</title><content type='html'>Someone please remind me to wax poetic on what a difference a year makes.  And how facebook is extremely detrimental to my emotional well-being.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2486374546217412721?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2486374546217412721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2486374546217412721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2486374546217412721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2486374546217412721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/02/525600-minutes.html' title='525,600 minutes.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-3638072875096822798</id><published>2009-02-19T13:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T13:24:57.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Being sick sucks.</title><content type='html'>I haven't gone to work since Monday when I left the lodge early because I was super positive that I had a fever and a pretty bad cold.  Three days later, my fever seems to have finally broken, I have 10 days worth of antibiotics to be taking, and my head still feels like it's disconnected from my body.  Needless to say, I'll probably be taking tomorrow off as well.  The crappy thing is, I still have about $450 worth of bills left to pay for the month, and I have no idea when WB Area pays their subs.  I should be getting a pretty hefty check from them eventually.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm sick, my roommates are all sick, my boyfriend is sick...what's not to love?  I thought I had more to say, but I guess I don't.  I think I may go attempt to shower because my hair looks absolutely horrific.  Perhaps the steam will clear up the sinuses as well.  Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-3638072875096822798?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/3638072875096822798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=3638072875096822798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3638072875096822798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3638072875096822798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/02/being-sick-sucks.html' title='Being sick sucks.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4577144690980528911</id><published>2009-02-13T13:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T14:10:01.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And in the backseat we just try to find some room to breathe...</title><content type='html'>I am borderline obsessed with The Gaslight Anthem and the song "The Backseat." I've also spent a good deal of time reading books about emo as a cultural study, and I think it may be rubbing off on me with some dire consequences.  I was already emo enough, damnit.  I don't need to sit around and cry about my life for no reason in addition to the music I listen to and the skinny jeans that I wear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is exactly the point of this entry, by the way.  I officially did not get the long-term sub position at Lehman.  I think I was more or less prepared for the blow due to the fact that it took them so long for them to call me back after I left two follow-up messages in regards to the interview.  Subbing is going relatively well. Putting in to sub at W-B Area was one of the smartest decisions I could have made, and once I figure out how their pay periods work, I will be back in the good graces of financial stability.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that is not going too well in my existence, is my current state of employment at my retail job.  I am still working there every weekend, and I am still technically a supervisor.  I am very pleased with my pay, and, most of the time, working there is a pleasure.  We had some major shake-ups happen over the summer, and a lot of our upper management was canned.  We had new people come in and take the reigns in recent months, and I'm almost positive they are intent on running this place into the ground.  This is trickling down to the directors, which is trickling down to the managers, which is trickling down to the supervisors and line level employees, and all it is doing is creating a shitty work environment for everyone.  I have a life outside of this job, and sometimes this life happens on days that I would usually work there.  Thus, I make requests for time off.  These requests are generally ignored.  Like last Saturday.  And this Saturday.  I do favors for everyone there, and when I need a favor, I get screwed.  I'm tired of it, and I'm tired of working there.  It used to make me happy to go to work.  I used to have fun.  Now, it's become just another source of much-needed income.  With the state of the economy, I know I should not complain because I know there are people out there who would kill for the job I have and the pay that I make.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hope that someone who deserves and really needs my job eventually gets it.  I'm in the process of looking for other work, and I'm exploring as many outlets as I possibly can. Unfortunately, I can only substitute teach on school days, so I need something for either after school or on the weekends.  I'm looking into different tutoring opportunities and other education related things.  If you know of anything that I might be good at, feel free to let me know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess this is what separates me from emo-kids the most.  Instead of sitting around and merely complaining about the issue, I'm really trying to take my destiny into my own hands.  I have goals, and I intend to work as hard as I possibly can to achieve them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4577144690980528911?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4577144690980528911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4577144690980528911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4577144690980528911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4577144690980528911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-in-backseat-we-just-try-to-find.html' title='And in the backseat we just try to find some room to breathe...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8574522042872472937</id><published>2009-02-03T23:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:57:32.512-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We are, we are all innocent.</title><content type='html'>I have not written anything for the month of february yet.  Shame on me.  I suppose I'm in the mood to write something right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty peeved that Boyfriend fell asleep and most likely did not see the end of the most awesome episode of Scrubs ever.  Great story, awesome jokes, Ted gets a girl, and OLP's "Innocent" was J.D.'s summing-it-all-up montage music.  That song means a lot to the both of us, so of course I immediately called him (he's traveling for work this week which means I miss him a lot.), and he didn't pick up.  After driving for a good 3-4 hours and probably doing some work, he really cannot be blamed for falling asleep.  Alas, it would have been cool to have him pick up the phone and just be like "I know!" like I know he would have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, I've given up hope on that Lake Lehman job.  I'm subbing pretty steadily between WVW and Wilkes-Barre Area, but I'm still worried that even subbing steadily won't make ends meet.  And if I want to move forward with carefully shrouded plans, ends need to meet.  I need to get a full-time gig in my field in this area.  And I am freaking out about this.  Pre-freaking, as Boyfriend would say.   And maybe I'm being irrational, but really?  They couldn't even call me to tell me that I didn't get the job?  That definitely would have helped ease my troubled mind, man.  I think I might stop writing about this because I'm starting to really upset myself.  Things will work themselves out the way they are supposed to, and that's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8574522042872472937?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8574522042872472937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8574522042872472937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8574522042872472937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8574522042872472937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-are-we-are-all-innocent.html' title='We are, we are all innocent.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1276584045538561602</id><published>2009-01-25T00:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T00:20:33.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So maybe I'll live longer?</title><content type='html'>http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=97320958&amp;amp;sc=emaf&lt;br /&gt;Read that article.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've actually been trying not to post in this until I have news on the job interview I went on recently.  However, I really liked that article, so perhaps you'll like it, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1276584045538561602?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=97320958&amp;sc=emaf' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1276584045538561602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1276584045538561602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1276584045538561602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1276584045538561602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-maybe-ill-live-longer.html' title='So maybe I&apos;ll live longer?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4816677385711856530</id><published>2009-01-21T11:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T15:40:51.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A hard-hitting, all-facts, no-holds-barred interview!</title><content type='html'>I'm sure I did this a thousand times per year on the good ol' LJ, but I still like the idea of this one.  So, here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;The rules:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five&lt;br /&gt;Questions!&lt;br /&gt;(These are Questions for me from one Miss Shannon)&lt;br /&gt;1)    What one quote/lyric/etc do you live your life by? Why?&lt;br /&gt;2)    What is your earliest memory?&lt;br /&gt;3)    What would someone be surprised to learn about you?&lt;br /&gt;4)    If you had to pick one meal to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;5)    Would you ever do anything just to get on tv?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  "There is always hope."  Since senior year of high school, PMEA Region IV Chorus, this quote has been the one static thing about my AIM profile.  (Yes, I still use AIM.  Do not judge me.)  Our guest conductor gave us this really awesome speech, and, near the end, he told us to remember that no matter how shitty things get, there is always hope.  I don't necessarily live my life by these words, but I hang on to them for dear life when the weight of the world is crushing my shoulders into my shins and everyone seems to want to kick me when I'm down and/or in the fetal position trying not to convulse from all the stress.  I just remember, "There is always hope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  That is a ridiculously difficult question to answer.  I remember extraordinarily ridiculous things about my school-age years, but not so much about my early years.  For instance, I remember in 7th grade, when we wrote our first MLA style research papers, I wrote mine on greek mythology and how fucked up the familial relations between the gods were, and I got a 97.  The earliest thing I can remember right now is me probably around the age of 4 or 5.  I had either just started pre-school or kindergarten, and my mom was driving me to school in the subaru.  And I was reading her the weather report from the back page of the Pocono Record.  If I thought harder about this, I could probably think of something earlier than that, but it's that time of the month and I have some pretty debilitating cramps right now.  See previous answer about being in the fetal position and trying not to convulse for an accurate mental image of my pain right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I am currently obsessed with Gossip Girl.  This embarrasses me like you would not believe.  But it's just so trashy and marvelous that I can't help myself.  It most certainly will never take the place of Sex and the City in my heart, but, gosh darn it, those crazy upper east siders sure are gonna try.  I started watching it because I had run out of tv to watch online and my students at the charter school used to tell me that my clothes looked "mad Gossip Girl."  I apparently wore a lot of plaid and headbands.  Wait, I still do.  I was curious because people identified my personal style with that of upper east side manhattan fashionistas.  And then I was hooked.  Now everyone that reads this blog knows my awful secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  If I could only eat one meal for the rest of my life, I think I would only eat Thanksgiving dinner.  Turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, etc.  I would probably weight a thousand pounds.  I'm pretty sure that there is something about this combination of foods that causes one to eat as much as he or she possibly can in one sitting, thus the massive weight gain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I would do a lot of things just to do them, but I do not think I would ever do anything just to get on TV.  Something about a ridiculous desire for exposure like that irks me a lot.  I mean, I like attention as much as the next girl, but not enough to flash my tits to Bret Michaels on national television.  Or be in the same room with Flava Flav.  Or eat bugs or bull testicles.  If I really wanted to do any of things, TV would not be a factor in the decision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was fun.  If anyone would like me to interview them, feel free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4816677385711856530?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4816677385711856530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4816677385711856530' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4816677385711856530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4816677385711856530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/hard-hitting-all-facts-no-holds-barred.html' title='A hard-hitting, all-facts, no-holds-barred interview!'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1464662105403200323</id><published>2009-01-09T18:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T18:20:18.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm officially cool now.</title><content type='html'>According to my roommates, I am no longer a muggle.  I didn't know how to explain to them that I had never been a muggle, so I just went with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris, Devin, and I went geocaching today.  Because there were about 8 caches in Frances Slocum, we decided to go there.  We searched for 4 of them, and found two, which I thought was pretty good.  In the geocaching world, general pedestrians are called muggles.  Since I found my first caches today, I am no longer a muggle.  Appropriately enough, one of the caches we searched for and found was entitled "The Sorcerer's Stone," and initially it was Harry Potter themed!  I obviously insisted that we find this one.  Unfortunately, there were no more Harry Potter related things in there, so we left a Marmaduke cartoon, and I think Devin took a button.  Now that I really think about it, I should have written some HP related things in the log-book.  Maybe we'll find that one again when it's not snowing and such and I will do exactly that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that was definitely better than sitting at the middle school again today.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  And we made tacos when we got home.  I am currently listening to the latest Hush Sound album, and I am thoroughly enjoying that as well.  Once my laundry is done, I'm heading over to boyfriend's for dinner and practice.  It's been/will continue to be a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will add "Blogging when happy" to my list of resolutions.  When I was explaining the random dream that I wrote about the other day to Chris, he responded by asking me if I would be offended if he told me that that was the most boring dream ever.  Reflecting on that, I have discovered that I can find joy in particularly mundane things, which should make my "blogging when happy" resolution rather easy to uphold.  We shall see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1464662105403200323?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1464662105403200323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1464662105403200323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1464662105403200323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1464662105403200323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-officially-cool-now.html' title='I&apos;m officially cool now.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7800536134476124848</id><published>2009-01-09T00:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T00:52:08.019-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 12:44 am, I must be lonely...</title><content type='html'>Among the many other things in this world that I am in love with, I perhaps love the fact that my boyfriend sings and plays guitar most of all.  Although the fact that he likes to sit and strum while I sing is high up on that list as well.  I'm listening to a live-set that he had recorded a few days after we started publicly dating, and it's just making me so terrifically happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for Feb. 7th...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  I tried sushi tonight for the first time.  It was an experience.  Boyfriend was surprised that I ended up liking the tuna the best, as it was really the only raw fish roll that we had.  What can I say; I'm surprising sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, barring an early morning call from WVW (which would really suck at this point, because I have severely fucked up my sleep schedule this week with all the non-work I've not been doing?), Chris, Devin, and I will be embarking on some geocaching excursions around this lovely area of NEPA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, however, I should probably rest up.  Either evil schoolchildren or icy hiking may climb my life tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7800536134476124848?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7800536134476124848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7800536134476124848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7800536134476124848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7800536134476124848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-1244-am-i-must-be-lonely.html' title='It&apos;s 12:44 am, I must be lonely...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7071279479116336194</id><published>2009-01-08T09:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T10:06:19.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unusually vivid dream...</title><content type='html'>I do not usually have extraordinarily vivid dreams, but I had one this morning.  And I woke up following it, and I remembered everything.  Very bizarre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the dream, apparently the new assistant general manager at the Lodge was my stepfather.  I do not know how this occurred, because I'm pretty sure even in the dream that my parents were still together.  Either way, he was some kind of father-like figure in my life.  He decided to take me shopping, and for some unknown reason, I picked the Gap.  I wanted to find a pair of skinny-leg khaki pants.  When we got there, there was a initially a counter and window setup kinda like Dominos over by Hoban, but minus the bullet-proof glass.  At the counter, I saw one of the workers wearing the exact kind of pants that I wanted.  She asked me if she could help me, and I asked her if the pants she had on were Gap pants.  She said yes, and I told her I wanted a pair of those in a size 7.  Thus started a wild goose chase for these pants that went through three sections of the store.  All the while, AGM-Dad was standing at the window, and apparently he decided to be nice and pay for the pants up front.  Well, Salesgirl and I kept looking, but all she ended up with was a pair of brown and blue striped flaired leg pants that I actually already have.  She was like "Will these do?" I obviously said no.  Why would I want a pair of pants that I already had?  So I went back to AGM-Dad who showed me the receipt, and I was like "Well, just return it."  So we did.  And we left the Gap very angrily.  When we got out to the parking lot (we were parked on a snow bank for some reason?) someone had vandalized the car.  On the car, there used to be these stained glass pieces about the size of license plates above each headlight.  They were shattered and laid all strewn about on the snow around the car.  And then I woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt the need to write about that.  Vivid, but still pretty mundane, haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7071279479116336194?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7071279479116336194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7071279479116336194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7071279479116336194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7071279479116336194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/unusually-vivid-dream.html' title='Unusually vivid dream...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1004113558658389644</id><published>2009-01-02T11:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T12:00:32.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's gonna be a happy new year...</title><content type='html'>So, it's January 2nd already, and I'm still in love with 2009.  This is, thus far, one day longer than I have been in love with any year following the Ball dropping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I actually missed the ball drop.  And I'm ok with that.  I was blithering-idiot-drunk, I was in a basement full of people I didn't know, and I was holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a red solo cup of Miller Light in the other.  But I was with the man I love, and it was the start of something new.  I actually cried a little as I looked around that room.  I don't remember the last time I'd been so hopeful.  That's the only way I can describe it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I had a supremely awesome New Year's Eve.  And I was a little apprehensive at first, because wouldn't I have more fun hanging out with my roommates, just getting drunk in the living room?  Who cares, I ended up having a blast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to look forward to this year, and I've got nothing but time on my hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolutions?  Sure.&lt;br /&gt;1. Get better at introducing people.  I really suck at that.  This is number one because I think it's one that can very realistically be accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;2. Get a full time teaching job. &lt;br /&gt;3. If number two can not be completed as dialed, continue the sub game and start grad school.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Go somewhere.  Take a vacation.  Take a mini road trip.  Just get out of NEPA for some period of time.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Relax more.  Don't pre-freak.  Case in point? Z2K9...I freaked, got myself upset, and then my Zune fixed itself.  This resolution will also be known as Operation: Calm the Fuck Down or O:CtFD.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Get a little more organized.  Bring up the filing cabinet.  Get my shit for my taxes in order.  So on, so forth. &lt;br /&gt;7. Stop drinking so much fucking soda.  This is last on the list, because I already suck at it, and I don't expect to be able to actually keep this one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning, and my paycheck was already in my account.  Sometimes hard work does pay off.  I am extremely happy.  What more can I ask for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1004113558658389644?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1004113558658389644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1004113558658389644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1004113558658389644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1004113558658389644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-gonna-be-happy-new-year.html' title='It&apos;s gonna be a happy new year...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2353145930171647537</id><published>2008-12-24T00:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T00:37:49.005-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I need.</title><content type='html'>To play Kingdom Hearts again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real update will be on the way.  I promise.  I just for some reason have keyblades on the brain.  Man.  Weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2353145930171647537?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2353145930171647537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2353145930171647537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2353145930171647537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2353145930171647537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-need.html' title='I need.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1811238553359543134</id><published>2008-12-11T10:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:53:13.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A well-deserved pat on the back.</title><content type='html'>As I was writing out a multitude of checks this morning to pay my loans and car payment for the month, I came to a pretty awesome conclusion.  I do not give myself enough credit (for having good credit!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my senior year of college, I was pretty frickin' poor.  This is due in part to the fact that I could not work as many hours as I had in previous semesters due to the heavy course load in the fall and then student teaching in the spring.  And this is on top of the fact that, while a bargain-hunter, I am also very aware that I am a pretty frivolous spender.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I did the whole teaching at the charter school thing, which became teaching and working at the lodge, which just became working at the lodge.  And even though I only had one job, I was still doing pretty well for myself. I was able to pay all my loans, and I was able to afford an apartment.  After a look at my finances later, I found that I was also capable of purchasing a new car.  When I went about purchasing that car, I found out my credit score for the first time ever, and I must say, I'm pretty pleased with myself for that one.  For being a chick fresh out of college with a shit ton of loans and the like, never having a credit card, etc, I did pretty well for myself.  And I'm still doing pretty well for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm working at the lodge on the weekends, and subbing during the week.  I thought I would come out about even to where I was at before, but I may be making a little less money now.  Here's the part where we'll see if I do get that pat on the back.  I'm going to need to reign in the frivolous spending a bit in order to keep myself in line.  This means cutting back on the going out and the buying of clothes whenever I feel like it kinda things.  I'll keep you posted as to whether I can handle it.  I'm almost positive I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1811238553359543134?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1811238553359543134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1811238553359543134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1811238553359543134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1811238553359543134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-deserved-pat-on-back.html' title='A well-deserved pat on the back.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1374771015062871783</id><published>2008-12-04T14:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T15:01:36.702-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today has been an excellent day for people-watching thus far.</title><content type='html'>I did not get a call to sub this morning, which was an enormous disappointment to me.  It's like I was in the classroom for one day, and then they just said "That's enough...enjoy a couple days off with your thoughts.  Have fun freaking yourself out!"  I'm going to try not setting my alarm tomorrow and see what happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was awake very early, so I did some stuff I don't normally do.  Like, pay my rent before the due date, and actually use the fitness center.  I ran for about a half hour on the treadmill whilst listening to Daft Punk and Kanye West, which added to my list of things I do not normally do, as I do not normally listen to Daft Punk or Kanye West. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke my roommate up because I was afraid he was dead rather than sleeping.  He does not make a peep when he comes in from class and immediately goes back to sleep.  He may be a ninja.  We talked for a half hour or so, and I decided that a trip to Barnes and Noble was in order. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's where I am now.  People watching and being watched by people.  An older gentleman just sat down with his wife at the table next to me.  While she was ordering her drink, he sat down with his paper and started singing along to Adeste Fideles rather loudly.  I don't know why, but it really got me into the Christmas spirit (whatever that is?) for a hot second.  I think it was just because it was something that I would do, that I'm trying to keep myself from doing right now, that made the moment so endearing to me.  I would, and more often than not, burst into song if I knew the words to whatever is playing over the Muzak in any store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a young man sitting two tables away from me.  Boyfriend definitely went the extra mile to point out that he continues to glance over here as he reads "Marley and Me" and checks his phone.  He has the same phone that I do.  I kinda wonder if he thinks of it as a switchblade phone like I do.  Seriously, it's the only redeeming quality that phone has.  This young man is kinda creepy, but kinda fun to watch, too.  Maybe because I see bits of myself in him, also.  It's funny that I find him a tad bit creepy, because the reasons I find him creepy would make myself creepy as well.  He's just sitting there with a cup of coffee, reading a book.  I'm just sitting here with my laptop, blogging.  I finished my chai awhile ago.  And maybe I'm creepier because I'm sitting here blogging about him.  What I like about him, is that aside from him glancing over here from time to time, he's totally engrossed in that book.  Like, to the point that he's laughing out loud at presumably funny parts.  I do that all the time.  I did it with my magazine earlier, and the store manager looked at me funny.  What can I say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife of the older gentleman just asked me if my hair was naturally this color.  I said yes, and the man asked me how much I would sell it for.  I'm in a weird mood today.  That would normally freak me out a little, but I like the idea the the people I am watching are also watching me.  I can't explain why I like that, other than the idea that we're maybe not all so different from each other.  And I've definitely just rambled on for a ridiculously long post.  I kinda miss typing from time to time, though.  This felt good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll work on conclusions for next time.  For now, peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1374771015062871783?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1374771015062871783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1374771015062871783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1374771015062871783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1374771015062871783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/12/today-has-been-excellent-day-for-people.html' title='Today has been an excellent day for people-watching thus far.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8141152236585975474</id><published>2008-12-03T15:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T15:37:32.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So why don't you...</title><content type='html'>I have decided that if I ever do get married, I would like to be married in a dress that looks very similar to the dress worn by the girl in the video for "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls.  I would also not be opposed to pairing this dress with crazy curly hair and red, patent-leather mary-janes.  Just saying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As some may expect, and one definitely knows, this is not a blanket statement, and this outfit would not work for me in all marriage scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been missing in action lately because I accidentally left my computer at my parents' house, and I didn't feel like wasting the gas to go home and get it until I had to go to work.  Which I did today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I subbed my first day yesterday.  That was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really cold in gr8_space again.  My nose is running.  And my fingers are not working on the keys right because they are cold.  But I did fix my Zune.  And there is an opening at the middle school I just subbed at yesterday.  Things are looking up, yes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8141152236585975474?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8141152236585975474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8141152236585975474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8141152236585975474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8141152236585975474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-why-dont-you.html' title='So why don&apos;t you...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-363130202039987476</id><published>2008-11-26T10:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T10:16:41.688-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it too early to make a new year's resolution?</title><content type='html'>The number one thing that I suck at (aside from being lazy...However, I bet that one could make an argument for me actually being GOOD at being lazy): When it really counts, I can't always say what I really mean or what I really want to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the majority of people, I can be as blunt as I want to be, and people generally just see it as the way Mariane is.  Which is true, that is the way I am.  But in certain situations, I find myself having trouble really speaking my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the reason for the early resolution:  I'm going to communicate better with the people that really deserve it.  And I am aware that communication is a two-way street.  I believe that if a put the effort in on my part, it will only make it easier for the other party to be able to really talk to me as well.  And good communication is the cornerstone of any good relationship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-363130202039987476?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/363130202039987476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=363130202039987476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/363130202039987476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/363130202039987476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-it-too-early-to-make-new-years.html' title='Is it too early to make a new year&apos;s resolution?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5707994150788029846</id><published>2008-11-22T00:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T00:39:50.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud to be an American?</title><content type='html'>I did a heck of a lot of driving today.  This morning I got up at 6:30, drove to Brodheadsville, got a physical and three shots, drove home, drove my sister to pick up her boyfriend in Avoca, drove home, drove back to my apartment, went to the movies, and I am now, finally, home and in bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister's boyfriend came home from Afghanistan today.  He was on a pretty long tour, 9 months or so.  I hemmed and hawed today about having to drive my sister there to pick him up at the airport, but I'm really glad that I still followed through with it.  I don't know why I didn't realize that these troops coming home would be a really huge deal.  When we got to the airport, there was a designated area of the terminal for army family and friends to wait.  We stood around for about a half hour before the plane landed and all of the soldiers got off.  I am extremely anti-war and relatively anti-military, but when I saw my sister's boyfriend walking off the plane, and when he stopped immediately to give her a big hug, I lost it.  So, I definitely cried for a little.  And for a moment, I thought I might be proud to be an American or something like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that really got to me was all the little kids who were waiting for their daddies to come home.  I have never seen so many kids so happy in such a long time.  No matter what my ideals may be, I really am glad that I got to be there today and be a part of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm really looking forward to writing about a bunch of things in here.  Soon to come:&lt;br /&gt;-"Keeping Christ in Christmas"&lt;br /&gt;-My review of the movie version of Twilight&lt;br /&gt;-The atrocious grammar of the Backstreet Boys in their lyrics, specifically "All I Have to Give."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5707994150788029846?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5707994150788029846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5707994150788029846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5707994150788029846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5707994150788029846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/11/proud-to-be-american.html' title='Proud to be an American?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8664251035152907819</id><published>2008-11-15T12:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T12:41:42.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always the summers are slipping away...</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in a bit; therefore, I have a lot to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My title line is appropriate both for last nights show and the fact that I miss summer.  It's kinda funny, because, as horrible as this sounds if you read between the lines, summer pretty much started for me around the first week in April this year.  And during that time, I traded an extremely tight-knit group of friends for a group of cool kids who hung out in a bar once a week and were thus loosely connected.  When I think about it in those terms, that does not seem like the most life-changing of events or decisions, but I think it happened that way for a reason.  Or several extremely specific reasons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That tight, tiny group is still there, but we're in different places now.  We'll never be the same again.  And even though a group of bests has drifted apart, I got way closer with my bffl.  Who is now halfway across the planet, but still the closest friend I have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because of things happening the way that they did, I'm in a wonderful relationship.  In so many ways, I could not be happier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to begin substitute teaching soon, so I can get back to what I know I should be doing with my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything works out the way it should; everything happens for a reason.  Like going to Dunkin Donuts that morning.  That had to happen.  And thank god it did.  There's a little bit of sanity back in the Valley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a much, much lighter note: On the way down to the show last night, Jess made an amusing comment about how Edward Cullen's hair is so perfect because he's had about a century to stand it front of his bedroom mirror combing and mussing until it's just right while listening to "Creep" on repeat.  So what do Jess and I do during that song?  "I'm a creep...I'm a vampire...What the hell am I doing in Forks?"  You get the idea.  At least if you have read the Twilight books and have a vague idea of the sound of Radiohead's "Creep," you get the idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure why, but I feel like some things are ending, and that's why I'm writing this the way that I am.  It was Boyfriend's last show of the year, but there's just something else looming out there that is casting this weird sense of finality over my day.  It could be that it's kind of gloomy out.  It could be that I still have red nail polish on and no nail polish remover and that fact is making me twitch because there are few things in this world that I hate more than the feeling of nail polish on my fingernails.  It could be that I just haven't written in awhile.  Or maybe something big is about to change or end or maybe even begin.  I'm excited to be along for the ride, wherever it may take me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8664251035152907819?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8664251035152907819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8664251035152907819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8664251035152907819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8664251035152907819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/11/always-summers-are-slipping-away.html' title='Always the summers are slipping away...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5115908312085123868</id><published>2008-11-03T12:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T12:24:41.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Geek Rant #1</title><content type='html'>Today's Midday Matinee is Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.   It is so because I say it is so.  I have much power in these parts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm a giant nerd/geek/dork/loser/whateverI'mstillawesomesothere, and I like to look up trivia on the movies that I know and love and/or saw 6 times in the theatres before watching a million more times on two-disc DVD.  IMDB is generally my favorite place to find random bits of trivia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments ago, my mind was literally just blown.  According to the trivia page on IMDB.com, TOM STOPPARD did a "script polish" on Revenge of the Sith. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Stoppard.  The drama geek's Tom Stoppard.  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead Tom Stoppard did a script polish on Revenge of the Sith. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, the question remains; why the hell is it still nowhere near as good as The Empire Strikes Back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/end Geek Rant #1.  Stay-tuned for future geek rants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5115908312085123868?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5115908312085123868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5115908312085123868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5115908312085123868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5115908312085123868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/11/geek-rant-1.html' title='Geek Rant #1'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-6195731017786123990</id><published>2008-11-02T11:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T11:17:22.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so great.</title><content type='html'>I am posting from an undisclosed location right now.  The funny thing is, there's no one around to really care that I'm blogging right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the worlds worst cramps, and I am going to be right where I am for quite some time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I were to kill someone, would I be able to get off for temporary insanity? Because of the cramps? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT SUCKS BEING A GIRL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-6195731017786123990?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/6195731017786123990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=6195731017786123990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6195731017786123990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6195731017786123990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/11/not-so-great.html' title='Not so great.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5929226434086594063</id><published>2008-10-28T13:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T13:26:13.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock the Vote!</title><content type='html'>I'm getting ridiculously excited for November 4th.  I can't wait for these seven days to pass.  In exactly one week, I will be casting my vote in my second Presidential election since I have been registered to vote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly sure why I am so excited.  For those of you that know me, you know that I have been way more emotionally invested in this election than I ever have been before.  Even though I know it doesn't make much of one, I still feel that my one vote counts for something.  It's about as patriotic as I get. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, my Choir Mates made an interesting comment on the fact that one of the most important people in my life is not even registered to vote.  Choir Mate seemed surprised that I, of all people, would be OK with that.  He went on to say that he would rather date a registered Republican than someone who wasn't even registered to vote.  I'm not going to say that I'm necessarily OK with it, but my ideals are my own, and I have no plans to force them on anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope there are people out there who are as excited as I am to head to the polls next Tuesday.  And if you are registered, I can't force you to do anything.  However, I can offer you my opinion that everyone should take adavantage of this right we have as Americans.  Holla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5929226434086594063?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5929226434086594063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5929226434086594063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5929226434086594063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5929226434086594063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/rock-vote.html' title='Rock the Vote!'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5455517543080201926</id><published>2008-10-26T21:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T21:23:25.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I haven't written for some time...</title><content type='html'>My fingers are itching for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose we should start with the big news: I bought a car. It's a 2005 Hyundai Elantra. It's beautiful and drives nice and all I want to do is drive it. All the time. I have actually sat here this evening thinking about how much I can't wait for work to be over so that I can drive my car again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In weird news: I have full control over the space right now, and I may or may not have watched both football and baseball willingly this evening. We did get new music on the main computer, so I do have a pretty jammin' playlist accompanying my new foray into the wide world of sports. Yay for Flobots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In annoying news: I have so much shit that I need to do before next week and not so much time to do it in. I need to get my apps together, because, after Wednesday, I only have one more week full time here, and then I must (MUST) dive into the wide world of substitute teaching. This is so I can afford to live due to rent, loans, and car payments and such. I also need to clean out my old car as she is getting sold to one of my friends. I want to at least vaccuum her out, and in order to do that, I'll be up pretty late on Tuesday evening. My main problem is that, as of right now, I like to use my days off to be in my apartment area, spend time with the boyfriend, etc. One of the many reasons I liked working some nights as opposed to all days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One annoying little child just asked me if I would turn off my jammin' playlist so that he could hear his game on the big screen. I and Oasis said NO. Some child is not going to deprive me of one of the small pleasures in my life, damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing news: We got new employee handbooks that outline our blogging policy. Therefore, my views are my own and have nothing to do with the company I work for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5455517543080201926?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5455517543080201926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5455517543080201926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5455517543080201926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5455517543080201926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/believe-in-me-as-i-believe-in-you.html' title='I haven&apos;t written for some time...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-247188845360297958</id><published>2008-10-17T18:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T18:37:34.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Young. Goofy. Infinite.</title><content type='html'>That is the best and most positive definition that I can come up with for myself.  And they are not my words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFTBA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-247188845360297958?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/247188845360297958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=247188845360297958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/247188845360297958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/247188845360297958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/young-goofy-infinite.html' title='Young. Goofy. Infinite.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-250168588428251126</id><published>2008-10-13T12:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T12:55:25.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution.</title><content type='html'>Still obsessed.  Every morning that I open Gr8_space, I throw my Zune on the AV out line from the dj mixer, and I just veg out to the Glass Passenger as I go about my morning duties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a pretty awesome past few days.  I just need...more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I promise I will elaborate on this more.  More on the more.  I'm promising this to myself, btdubs.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-250168588428251126?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/250168588428251126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=250168588428251126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/250168588428251126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/250168588428251126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-need-light-in-dark-as-i-search-for.html' title='I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1028486532351037348</id><published>2008-10-07T12:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T12:25:11.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A room of one's own.</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty positive that an empty teen tech center is not what Virginia Woolf had in mind when she wrote that, but that's what I've got right now.  A room of my own for thinking and writing and other sorts of fun stuff.  Like playing two hours of Rock Band.  I am truly disappointed to find out that "So What'cha Want's" bass line on medium consists of holding down the green fret and strumming exactly 144 times.  Needless to say, I got 100% and 5 stars on that sucker.  I have no real reason for playing Rock Band 2 anymore.  Among the 3 of us staff members down here, we've opened up every song in the game.  Now at new tour venues, I'm playing the same songs over and over again.  And if it's Blondie's "One Way or Another," I'm completely effing up the ending every time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I am clearly not complaining.  The fact that I am currently "working" does not cease to amaze me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Events for gr8_space today:&lt;br /&gt;12-2:  Nightmare Before Christmas on the big screen&lt;br /&gt;2-3: Disney SceneIt&lt;br /&gt;3-5: Rock Band on the big screen&lt;br /&gt;5-7: Open Gaming&lt;br /&gt;7-8: Family Karaoke&lt;br /&gt;8-9: Wii Bowling Tournament&lt;br /&gt;9-10: Super Smash Brothers Brawl on the big screen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and I guarantee that no one will be coming in to do any of this.  Funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to look at another new (old) car tomorrow.  The difference with this one is that I will actually buy this car if it drives well.  I'm already in love from afar.  We'll see if the feelings remain once we meet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1028486532351037348?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1028486532351037348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1028486532351037348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1028486532351037348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1028486532351037348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/room-of-ones-own.html' title='A room of one&apos;s own.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8181496990074037505</id><published>2008-10-06T13:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T14:02:08.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging live from gr8_space!</title><content type='html'>I have been rescheduled for mostly mornings at work, and that means that I have a lot of free time to myself with a lot of high tech equipment.  I am definitely not complaining. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire point of this blog is to brag that the annoying children have left the room, and I am now going to go start a tour on Rock Band. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that it really is awesome to be me a lot of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8181496990074037505?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8181496990074037505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8181496990074037505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8181496990074037505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8181496990074037505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/blogging-live-from-gr8space.html' title='Blogging live from gr8_space!'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-6469955029001014448</id><published>2008-10-04T09:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T10:07:41.098-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not to be blunt or anything...</title><content type='html'>I hate being a girl when I'm PMSing more than I hate being a girl when I actually have my period.  I was just thinking that I've noticed that a lot of my LiveJournal friends only seem to post entries when they have something negative to blog about.  I'm not saying all of my LJ friends do this; they do not.  In fact, there are several peoples' journals that I read for the sheer joy of devouring the nuggets of happiness that they post on a regular basis.  Anyway, I was thinking about these people, whom I think I will refer to as "misery bloggers," and I realized that I am PMSing.  I realized this because, suddenly, I had a desire to blog about the negative things going on in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I realized that there are no negative things going on in my life.  Aside from being slightly hungover and still a little sick, I've had a great couple days.  My boyfriend came home from his business trip early just to be with me.  I made a little extra money on Thursday by helping out one of my roommates.  I got to sit around with my roommates and a few beers and watch the Veep debate.  I am intelligent enough to be able to sit around with my roommates and actually enjoy a political debate.  Yesterday, I got some minor errands done earlier in the day, chilled with my roommates for a bit, and then went to Oktoberfest with Boyfriend.  We drank a little, walked around a lot, and eventually went to Murphy's for dinner and more beverages of the alcoholic kind.  We met a friend of his and had rather pleasant, intoxicated, intelligent conversation.  Boyfriend and I went back to his place, thoroughly enjoyed the rest of our waking hour, and went to sleep.  Lather, rinse, repeat that last part this morning, and, frankly, there is no reason for me to be sad in any way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I really had to work on it, I'm sure I could come up with a million tiny things to really be miserable about, but I'm going to fight my hormones and just not.  It really is so funny to me that I can be so cognizant of the fact that the cause of my general insecurities and desire to cry for no real reason stems from my period being right around the corner.  What is not funny to me is that in so many ways, it's really hard to fight those feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other, completely unrelated news: I've logged several more listens to the majority of The Glass Passenger.  It's still amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-6469955029001014448?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/6469955029001014448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=6469955029001014448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6469955029001014448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/6469955029001014448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/not-to-be-blunt-or-anything.html' title='Not to be blunt or anything...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7019722804165185842</id><published>2008-10-03T09:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T10:14:23.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It started feeling like October.</title><content type='html'>And now I have nothing music-related to look forward to for quite some time.  Let me phrase that better.  I have no new albums coming out in the near future that excite me half as much as even the mere idea of The Glass Passenger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pre-ordered Jack's Mannequin's new album approximately a month before its release.  I still have not received my physical copy of the album, which comes with a lot of cool extra stuff.  On October 1st, I was rather freaked out about this fact.  And then I remembered the glorious fact that I still have the Zune pass.  So, I went and downloaded The Glass Passenger in a matter of minutes, synced it to my Zune, and was on my merry way.  I had my music; crisis averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving to boyfriend's house the other day, I started listening to the album.  I do not normally like to do this.  I either like to have a long drive where I can listen to the entire album uninterrupted, or I like to lock myself in my room in order to do the same.  This is the first time that I have listened to something so anticipated in little pieces and chunks.  It's a somewhat new experience, and it's not altogether horrible, either.  Anyway, as I was driving to Boyfriend's, I had a perfect song moment.  I had a perfect song moment with a song I don't even know that well yet.  (Does that make me a music slut? Hm.)  I think in order to effectively explain, I must first describe a perfect song moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, a perfect song moment usually happens when I'm driving.  I don't know why; it just does.  This moment requires that you are completely in your head, yet completely connected to everything going on around you.  And in that moment, everything that you are thinking about, and everything that is going on around you sync up with the music in the most fantastic way.  This happened as I was listening to "Swim."  It's a song about kinda pushing forward no matter what, and it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with fall, but at that moment in time, it was the perfect background music for a perfect fall day.  I was in my car; I had my new green coat on.  As I drove across the bridge and looked over at the park, a football team was scrimmaging on the field.  As I turned a corner, a schoolbus was just pulling up to a stop, and a crossing guard was waving little kids across the street.  I just paused and thought, "This is it."  And throughout all of this, "Swim" was playing through my speakers and just making everything seem right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think The Glass Passenger may become my fall album.  Whenever I listen to it, I will think of fall.  It will get heavy rotation during the months of September, October, and November.  Everything In Transit is more of a transition album from Spring to Summer.  The Glass Passenger is definitely fall.  I love how I'm determining this and I haven't even listened to the whole thing yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7019722804165185842?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7019722804165185842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7019722804165185842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7019722804165185842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7019722804165185842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/10/it-started-feeling-like-october.html' title='It started feeling like October.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4256699265922955915</id><published>2008-09-27T11:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T11:31:45.494-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain falls angry on the tin roof.</title><content type='html'>I'm not feeling particularly romantic at this moment in time, so I suppose I am only quoting "I'll Be" lyrics to comment on the fact that it really has not stopped raining for two days straight in my little corner of NEPA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it is twenty after eleven, good reader, you can probably infer that I did not go to Easton to do more car haggling for (Name TBA).  My mother wasn't feeling well and I want to be at the tippy top of my game for gr8_space's grand opening tonight.  And by "tippy top of my game," I mean I want to be as hyper as possible.  Thus, rest and copious amounts of caffeine have ruled my morning.  More to come on Monday after car-buying adventures reconvene. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to grandma-sitting last night, I missed Boyfriend's band play at my college.  I was rather sad about this fact, but such is life.  We pause, we grieve, we move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really are a plethora of things that I could be doing right now, aside from blogging.  I really should be starting my laundry.  I really should start cleaning Bessie out, because I really do feel her last days with me will be sometime this week.  I could be getting applications for subbing together.  I should be showering at this very moment.  I also have the rest of the week to do all of these things.  Well, except shower.  I really am going to do that as soon as I am done typing.  Fear not, gentle reader, I will not stink up the greatest of spaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write blog entries in my head while I'm out or away from my computer.   I often pre-plan future entries as I am writing current ones.  For instance, I think I've decided that, if I keep up with these blogging shenanigans for a long period of time, when and if I ever get married, I know exactly what I'm going to write.  I'm definitely going to go all Jane Eyre on the blogosphere's face and just type "Reader, I married him."  How badass would that be?  I suppose it would be badass in the literary sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4256699265922955915?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4256699265922955915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4256699265922955915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4256699265922955915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4256699265922955915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/rain-falls-angry-on-tin-roof.html' title='Rain falls angry on the tin roof.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8475921899495120815</id><published>2008-09-26T18:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T18:38:06.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The leaves are really starting to change now.</title><content type='html'>I have fond feelings for fall.  And alliteration, but we've covered this in previous posts.  I'm looking out the front window of my parents' house at the dreariest, rainiest evening that I have seen in quite some time.  It's not quite dusk yet, so I can still see the foliage that is around eye-level for me at the moment rather clearly.  Everything is still very green, but a few leaves that are fiery orange in color are making themselves known to me tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have fond feelings for fall, but I am generally adverse to change.  I am in the process of haggling for a new car.  Really, it's an old car, but it's new to me, therefore, it is a new car.  I found this car on a lot in Easton approximately one half hour after Boyfriend purchased his own new car in Bethlehem.  I've been looking for a car since I had my scare with Bessie a few weeks ago.  Even though she's running fine and is still very reliable, I figured that it wouldn't hurt to look around.  And this car fell into my lap.  It's a 2002 Hyundai Sonata, and it has more bells and whistles on it than any car I've ever driven before in my life.  The price is reasonable, and the miles are pretty much precisely what should be on a 2002 model that's been driven regularly.  My Bessie is a little car.  The Sonata could probably eat Bessie for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Boyfriend helped me talk with the dealer yesterday, but today I started doing all of these things on my own.  My mom and I are going down to the dealer again tomorrow to take another look at the car, let her drive it, form an opinion, etc.  I'm not too big a fan of the price the dealer offered me, so my goal at this point is to get him to come down a bit to my level.  If he can give me the monthly payment I'm asking for (which is totally reasonable), I'll be driving off the lot in a new (old) car on Monday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is absolutely terrifying to me.  As I started to go through these motions today, I honestly began to feel a little panicky.  I love my Bessie; she still runs exceptionally well.  So, why am I taking a chance on this new vehicle? Money really isn't the issue.  I can handily afford the payment that I'm asking for.  I can handily afford the payment that the dealer initially quoted me as well, but I'm a bargain-shopper (one of the other ways I'm a girl, Miss Shaba?), and, damnit, I want to get a good deal.  It honestly is that I can't stand the idea of how huge a change this really is.  Part of me is already attached to this new vehicle.  I even have a preliminary name picked out.  I know once (if?) I get it, I'll be so intrigued by all the new toys that I'll have that it'll ease the pain a little.  However, I can honestly see myself being extremely sad for at least a week over the loss of my Bessie.   This is most of the reason why I am so amused by the fact that I love fall so much.  Everything changes in fall.  To be fair, everything changes at the end/beginning of every season, but fall just seems so much more about that change than anything else.  Maybe it's just a more appealing color palatte to me or something.  But yeah...fall = change to me.  And I'm more terrified of change than almost anything else in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things running through my brain right now, that I'm even having a hard time fleshing out my real feelings on the subject.  I need to go let the puppies in.  I need to keep on grandma-sitting.  I need to stop being a little upset that grandma-sitting and doing a favor for my mother has kept me from seeing Boyfriend's band perform at my college tonight.  I'm looking forward to the debate tonight.  I'm really good at rambling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8475921899495120815?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8475921899495120815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8475921899495120815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8475921899495120815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8475921899495120815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/leaves-are-really-starting-to-change.html' title='The leaves are really starting to change now.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4817937147239037231</id><published>2008-09-23T07:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T07:34:18.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How I can tell it's going to be a good day</title><content type='html'>This is a short one for the morning.  I should be throwing myself immediately into the shower and getting ready for my day and such, but I just wanted to share an awesome little tidbit with the rest of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  love T.S. Eliot's "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."  I love the line "do I dare disturb the universe."  I had it posted as my away message last night, and this morning I had two new messages.  One was an obvious message from Boyfriend, which definitely put a smile on my face.  The other was not-so-obvious, from an ex-boyfriend.  All it said was, "Yes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4817937147239037231?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4817937147239037231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4817937147239037231' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4817937147239037231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4817937147239037231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-i-can-tell-its-going-to-be-good-day.html' title='How I can tell it&apos;s going to be a good day'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2350081730999578876</id><published>2008-09-19T08:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:35:02.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Gr8!</title><content type='html'>My place of employment has been closed to the general public for the past five days or so.  Within that time period, a select crew of Retail employees have been working throughout the week to get a number of things completed: Inventory, various cleaning activities, and the opening of Gr8_space.  I was told to arrive at 8 am on Wednesday morning, and when I got to work, I was told that I was going to be training for Gr8_space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me see if I can actually explain what Gr8_space is.  In our space (it's gotten annoying typing out Gr8_), only guests 10 (it might actually be 13?) and up can partake of the fun that our room offers.  We have a counter where guests can buy candy and soda and various other tasty goodies.  At the far end of the room, we have a station set up with 10-15 computers with internet access set up for recreational use.  All along the walls there are twevlve 42" plasma screen TV's.  There is a ridiculously large screen in the center of the room with a DLP projector.  In front of the counter, there is a DJ booth equipped with the ability to pipe music videos into any of the TVs in the room (including the giant screen), a computer that enables light shows, a fog machine, and other assorted fun things.  Just across from the DJ booth, we have a a technological smorgasbord of everything and anything that could possibly keep these little buggers busy: a dvd player, two wiis, two xbox 360s, two ps3s, and expansion slots for two directv ports.  My job is basically to play music an&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/themeparks/1/0/k/o/GWLGrape9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/themeparks/1/0/k/o/GWLGrape9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d check out this video game equipment for kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not quite up and running yet, so to give the blogosphere a better idea of what I'm talking about, this is a picture of Grapevine's Gr8_space.  Myself and the two other employees down here also have to maintain a MySpace page for this tech center monstrosity.  Keep on the look out.  If you're cool, maybe you'll make Gr8_space's top friends???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main point of this entry was to gloat a little about the fact that, for the next two weeks at least, I get to play music and video games and sing karaoke and get kids pumped up about having spent $15 for an 8 hour day in this room.  Could be fun, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2350081730999578876?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2350081730999578876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2350081730999578876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2350081730999578876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2350081730999578876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-gr8.html' title='I&apos;m Gr8!'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-3099363001181728734</id><published>2008-09-17T23:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T23:20:11.697-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And maybe you just need a friend as clumsy as you've been</title><content type='html'>The word of the day is apparently "bangin,'" which I believe I may have assimilated from one Miss Nikki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're all meant to go through some rough spots and come out on the other side that much stronger and that much wiser and that much more content with ourselves in our relationships and as human beings.  I don't care that that was a run-on sentence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do care that I am a very lucky girl.  I am very lucky to have the people that I have in my life.  I like that I can go to sleep smiling because of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-3099363001181728734?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/3099363001181728734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=3099363001181728734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3099363001181728734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3099363001181728734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-maybe-you-just-need-friend-as.html' title='And maybe you just need a friend as clumsy as you&apos;ve been'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-5201742217920918429</id><published>2008-09-16T18:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T18:59:43.209-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's good to be alive.</title><content type='html'>I am incredibly proud of myself.  After reading Davie K's Fbook note, I was inspired to create a list of goals for myself to accomplish withing 12 months.  After multiple conversations with Boyfriend, I was inspired to consider that some introspective goals be included on that list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I got a speeding ticket.  I was fined $150 total for going 61 in a 45.  To be entirely honest, I do not believe that I was going that fast, but what can I say?  I read up on this ENRADD deal that they apparently used to clock my speed, and the internets have made it out to be pretty much infallible.  Anyway, I allowed myself the amount of time it took to get from the spot on 611 where I was pulled over until I got to work to freak out.  I called my mom, I cried a little, and then I just decided not to freak out anymore.  The only thing I can do is pay my ticket, and just pledge to drive a little more slowly in the future.  Even though I still really don't believe that I was going that fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an unusual thing for me.  In the past weeks, I've spazzed to the high heavens when even something minutely terrible happens to me.  I'm proud of the way I handled myself.  I also have a case of Lionshead chilling in my fridge.  I will be handling that shortly. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-5201742217920918429?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/5201742217920918429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=5201742217920918429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5201742217920918429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/5201742217920918429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-good-to-be-alive.html' title='It&apos;s good to be alive.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1698951410667466494</id><published>2008-09-14T20:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:56:06.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I need female companionship.</title><content type='html'>Let's get right the to the point.  I've been floundering the past week or so due to what had felt like a million different things crashing down around me.  I have since come to the conclusion that these things were not that terrible, and I should probably chill the frick out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, boyfriend and I had an awful conversation that really threw me for a loop.  That's exactly how I described it to him this morning on my break from work in the conversation that was meant to resolve all issues and bring me some kind of reassurance.  This morning's conversation kind of did that, and kind of didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During said conversation, I brought up the fact that everyone I spend time with on a regular basis are dudes.  This would not normally be a problem, because I tend to get along with boys better than I do with girls.  The people I see most often are as follows: Boyfriend (who, thank heavens, is a dude), my roommates (all dudes), and my bff Bob (you guessed it; he's a dude).  I'm not saying that these guys of mine don't necessarily have their softer sides, but, frankly, I have nowhere for this estrogen to go.  It's been pent up inside of me for quite some time now, and I always feel as if I'm going to cry because of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Ashley.  I miss Amy.  I miss Diana.  I miss Shannon, who lives in my apartment complex!  I miss my Bffl.  I can't even begin to describe to the blogosphere how much I miss, miss, miss my Bffl.  Almost enough to forgo buying a car so that I could afford a plane ticket to South Korea.  I never realized how important it is to have a community of solid women around until I didn't have them around.  And this really is the ultimate reason that boyfriend and I had that awful conversation.  He even said that we would not have had that conversation if my Bffl were still here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I just want to curl up into a ball and cry for a really long time.  And maybe that's what I need to do.  I need some kind of catharsis, and writing just isn't cutting it.  I need some girl power.  Damnit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1698951410667466494?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1698951410667466494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1698951410667466494' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1698951410667466494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1698951410667466494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-need-female-companionship.html' title='I need female companionship.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1082443045185223564</id><published>2008-09-14T18:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T18:24:09.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm melting.</title><content type='html'>At least, it certainly feels like I'm melting.  Why on earth is it like 90 fricking degrees in my house?  Really, this is entirely unnecessary.  We should be getting into fall.  We should be getting there soon.  Damn you global warming.  Damn you Al Gore, and your inconvenient truths.  I am a very sweaty girl, and that sucks.  Girls aren't supposed to sweat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing today solely for the purpose of keeping my mind off a million other things.  Like my trust issues, to which all of today's problems generally boil down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honor of Davie K, I think I may outline some things for me to work on.  The only thing I can think of right now is to stop sweating the small stuff, or spazzing out in general, if you will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I just need to find that faith in human beings that has been eluding me for quite some time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very all over the place right now, and my writing is clearly reflecting that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go downstairs and watch the episodes of project runway that I've missed the past couple of weeks that I've been in the W-B on Wednesdays.  I also have some ANTM to watch.  My guilty pleasures will be my sanctuary, this evening.  Yes, I think I like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1082443045185223564?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1082443045185223564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1082443045185223564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1082443045185223564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1082443045185223564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-melting.html' title='I&apos;m melting.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1541097645695957532</id><published>2008-09-13T10:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T10:28:43.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, I get lazy.</title><content type='html'>A more accurate title for this blog might be, "All the time, I get lazy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to try and keep up with this blog as much as I possibly can, however, not much worth writing about has happened in the past few days, and I like to pretend that I really do have interesting things to write about.  I more often than not hate just giving a run down of what I've been doing and then calling that an entry.  ...Unless I've been doing something really, really awesome, like cliff-diving in Maui or putting Peeps in my pants.  (Yellow ones only.  No Bunnies.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, to totally disregard everything that I just wrote in the previous paragraph, I went to see Sweeney Todd at the Music Box Theatre last night.  It was pretty packed.  I sent a text message to boyfriend that said, "I'm really pleased to see so many people supporting community theatre.  However, this means that I have a crappy seat."  This was true.  The show was pretty good.  I usually follow a general rule about not seeing community theatre shows on opening night, but time constraints forced me to break that.  I can only see the show getting tighter and getting better.  I think I still would have been a better Johanna.  The girl who played her had a pleasing voice, and she was able to hit the notes, but she didn't create much of a character.  The way she played her, the show could have done without and I feel like the 90 Johnny Depp fans in the audience probably would not have noticed.  I guess except for Sweeney's motivation for revenge being gone...hm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must go get ready for work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1541097645695957532?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1541097645695957532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1541097645695957532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1541097645695957532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1541097645695957532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/sometimes-i-get-lazy.html' title='Sometimes, I get lazy.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-4788373074411501125</id><published>2008-09-08T22:55:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:06:08.798-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rickett&apos;s glen'/><title type='text'>I want to live here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXl4tjEymI/AAAAAAAAAAY/25sNnLlLwQU/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXl4tjEymI/AAAAAAAAAAY/25sNnLlLwQU/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243850103604955746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an awesome opportunity to go to Rickett's Glen twice before the summer ended, once with my Michael, and then again with my roommate.  I didn't bring my camera the first time, which is a shame, because it was a beautiful day that day as well.  Roommate and I did a bit more exploring and found some of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.  I want to go back there every single day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXnPdWlRsI/AAAAAAAAAAo/tHMjDYNrP1U/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXnPdWlRsI/AAAAAAAAAAo/tHMjDYNrP1U/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243851593906210498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXnh4yrOUI/AAAAAAAAAAw/hZRCc49FlnY/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXnh4yrOUI/AAAAAAAAAAw/hZRCc49FlnY/s320/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243851910509443394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXn4hVCXqI/AAAAAAAAAA4/BDfTS3z5O-A/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXn4hVCXqI/AAAAAAAAAA4/BDfTS3z5O-A/s320/006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243852299348106914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-4788373074411501125?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/4788373074411501125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=4788373074411501125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4788373074411501125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/4788373074411501125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-want-to-live-here.html' title='I want to live here.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/SMXl4tjEymI/AAAAAAAAAAY/25sNnLlLwQU/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-3556940879618492122</id><published>2008-09-07T18:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T18:40:04.375-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Narcissism or keeping the rust off?</title><content type='html'>One of the worst things in the entire world happened the other day.  This may or may not be borderline worse than my car (possibly?) biting the dust.  So, clearly, this must be a horrible, horrible occurrence, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend indirectly discovered the existence of my livejournal.  I have managed to keep hidden the fact that I still hold onto my good ol' LJ as if it were a security blanket from many the past suitor.  Silly me, and my big mouth.  He read some of it, including certain things that I necessarily did not want him to read.  When he finished reading one particular post in which my mood was listed as 'disappointed,' I asked him if he was mad at me for the things I wrote.  His response both reassured me and raised more questions for me.  "It's not like you wrote anything in here that you didn't already tell me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went on to say that he just didn't understand how anyone could put their lives out there on the internet like that.  I responded with what I felt has always been my reasoning; I write in these blogs because I like to write.  I like to get my thoughts out on paper (screen?) so that I can keep up with writing as a craft.  I don't write papers anymore; I (should be) just grade them.   When I eventually get back to teaching, I want to be able to continue to do as well as teach.  This is the reason why, in this blog specifically, I try to be as gramatically correct and literate as possible.  I want to present my thoughts to an audience in a dignified way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I got to thinking about his comments.  Is keeping up with my writing the only reason that I keep these blogs?  Or is there a more narcissistic element to it?  To be fair, whenever anyone writes, they have to be writing with an audience in mind.  Would narcissism even be the correct term for it?  Perhaps it's more dramatic or histrionic or a "look-at-me" kind of attitude that drives my desire to post my thoughts for the world to see.  And at the same time, I do keep my audience in mind, because I can go back to LJ entries from almost five years ago and have no effing clue what I was talking about because I wrote about whatever was troubling me so cryptically.  So, obviously, I don't want my audience to know everything there is to know about me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an intriguing topic, one I would like to ruminate on for hours.  However, I am at work, and I should get back to work.  One thing I do know for certain: focusing on really writing this entry and making it thoughtful and perhaps thought-provoking did take my mind off the fact that my mother made me feel like an asshole to the point of tears earlier today.  So, score one for blogging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-3556940879618492122?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/3556940879618492122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=3556940879618492122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3556940879618492122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3556940879618492122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/narcissism-or-keeping-rust-off.html' title='Narcissism or keeping the rust off?'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7055581402781867814</id><published>2008-09-07T12:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T13:07:43.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit or get off the pot.</title><content type='html'>So the past couple of days have sucked hardcore.  For the past week or so, my car has been acting up a little.  When I would get to around 50 or 55 miles an hour, my car would start to buck or hesitate.  Yesterday, my car decided that it just really did not want to accelerate at all.  I dropped my Bessie off at my mechanic, and talked to him a little bit about what was going on.  The fact that the first words out of his mouth were "Fuuuuck," gave me the impression that this was not a good thing.  Apparently, he thinks it could be the transmission, which would mean that I might as well just get a new car.  I haven't heard anything as to whether or not it actually is the transmission, and this is what is continuing to freak me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my dad's friend sent us to the place that he recently bought his car, so I was checking out the website today, and there are actually a few options that I might be able to afford.  Two Chevy Aveos, a Ford Focus...all in my price range.  I'm thinking that this may be a sign that I'm supposed to make this rather big decision now.  The best decisions I've made have been ones I've made on the fly, or ones that I've been forced to make.  Even if it's not the transmission in my car, how long is my poor Bessie going to last after I fix her this time?  I might not have this opportunity again for quite some time.  Perhaps this is my time to shit or get off the proverbial pot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everything has been bad.  I have important people in my life who love me and care for me and support me and that is amazing.  I got to have a conversation with my best friend last night, and something good happened to her after that.  I am almost positive that today will be a better day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7055581402781867814?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7055581402781867814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7055581402781867814' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7055581402781867814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7055581402781867814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/shit-or-get-off-pot.html' title='Shit or get off the pot.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-7424386719310040574</id><published>2008-09-02T18:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T18:23:49.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nonsense, my dear.</title><content type='html'>There are few things in life that are as amusing and simultaneously depressing to me as reading through my old blog entries.  One of those things is reading through other people's old blog entries.  ESPECIALLY when they contain significant details about people who are now extremely significant to me.  I think that may be all I have to say about that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend is exceptional at being an adult.  I am not.  I do not make things like budgets or grocery lists, nor do I possess superior spreadsheet skills.  However, I am pretty awesome at alliteration.  I am apparently awesome at assonance also.  Please let any fellow grammar nerds that may or may not be reading this blog be amused by that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire point of the initial main idea to that paragraph was that I wish I could be more organized, more productive.  I am not.  I have managed to accomplish a few things on my to-do list, but not many.  I am going to clean out my car this evening.  I think what I need to do is just concentrate on the satisfactory feeling of crossing things off my list.  I have to think of it as much more fun than simply making the list.  I do like making lists as long as they are handwritten on white legal pads.  (Sometimes yellow will do, but I prefer white.  Does that make me a white legal pad supremacist?) So clearly the answer right now is to stop blogging, stop reading other people's blogs, stop giggling about the "I WIN!" aspect of reading other people's blogs, and go clean out my car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really had intended to use this two hour time period to watch several episodes of Scrubs.  Sadly, this was not to be.  DSH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-7424386719310040574?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/7424386719310040574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=7424386719310040574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7424386719310040574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/7424386719310040574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/09/nonsense-my-dear.html' title='Nonsense, my dear.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8841503127451298690</id><published>2008-08-31T13:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T13:23:40.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So long, so long</title><content type='html'>And so ends summer.  I called off work today, and, frankly, I don't give a damn.  Points for pop culture reference? Anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I am actually going to get to attend a pool party today, and that makes me the happiest girl in the world.  Really, it does.  All I've wanted to do all summer was go swimming, and I never got a chance to.  The one time I even wore my bathing suit was only to go to HersheyPark with my ex-boyfriend to see Billy Joel.  We got into the park on discounted tickets and we went to East Coast Waterworks and splashed around like little kids.  However, I do not feel this actually qualifies as swimming.  Thus, today shall be a grand day.  ...Despite the fact that I immediately become a five year old when I am anywhere around a pool or medium to large-sized bodies of water, and I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be a grown-up party in some way, shape, or form.   Fabulous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is also a Sunday which means it is PostSecret Day.  If you have never been to PostSecret, you totally should do so right now.  If you are reading this, just click the linky on the left side of my page.  Check it out.  Amazing.  Anyway, normally at least one or two secrets really speak to me or make me go all instrospective, but, today, two of them (in succession) slapped me in the face, haha.  I almost thought that I got drunk or blacked out and made and mailed these postcards in to that blog.  Love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I will leave under the cover&lt;br /&gt;Of summer's kiss upon the sky&lt;br /&gt;Like the stone face of your lover&lt;br /&gt;Just before she says goodbye&lt;br /&gt;I was certain that the season could be held between my arms&lt;br /&gt;Well just as summer's hold is fleeting&lt;br /&gt;I was here but now I'm gone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8841503127451298690?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8841503127451298690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8841503127451298690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8841503127451298690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8841503127451298690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-long-so-long.html' title='So long, so long'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1567064242428484370</id><published>2008-08-30T09:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T09:13:26.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody likes you when you're 23...</title><content type='html'>I think I may have had an excellent birthday and birthday celebration despite the fact that it will always be remembered by me as the first time I ever got sick from drinking.  Damnit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1567064242428484370?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1567064242428484370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1567064242428484370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1567064242428484370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1567064242428484370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/nobody-likes-you-when-youre-23.html' title='Nobody likes you when you&apos;re 23...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1211771505335493295</id><published>2008-08-26T23:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T23:33:17.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in time of daffodils</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" name="KonaFilter"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;in time of daffodils(who know&lt;br /&gt;the goal of living is to grow)&lt;br /&gt;forgetting why,remember how&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in time of lilacs who proclaim&lt;br /&gt;the aim of waking is to dream,&lt;br /&gt;remember so(forgetting seem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in time of roses(who amaze&lt;br /&gt;our now and here with paradise)&lt;br /&gt;forgetting if,remember yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in time of all sweet things beyond&lt;br /&gt;whatever mind may comprehend,&lt;br /&gt;remember seek(forgetting find)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in a mystery to be&lt;br /&gt;(when time from time shall set us free)&lt;br /&gt;forgetting me,remember me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" name="KonaFilter"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;-e e cummings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what color my text is actually supposed to be, but I rather like this aqua-ish color that I have chosen in its place.  I am in love with that poem.  We're doing a setting of it in RDC for the fall concert.  To be fair, I'm in love with a lot of things lately.  It's pretty cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" name="KonaFilter"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1211771505335493295?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1211771505335493295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1211771505335493295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1211771505335493295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1211771505335493295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-time-of-daffodils.html' title='in time of daffodils'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-2937971662189544437</id><published>2008-08-25T23:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T23:33:18.607-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes that's just what we need to get us through the day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="87" style="background-color: transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(215, 51, 6);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;breathe1symphony&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (10:43:37 PM)&lt;/AIM:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;font-size:85%;color:#0080ff;"&gt;i can find something to love about every season&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="88" style="background-color: transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(215, 51, 6);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;breathe1symphony&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (10:44:21 PM)&lt;/AIM:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;font-size:85%;color:#0080ff;"&gt;but i love sweaters and dark colors and the smell of wood burning and red cheeks and cold noses and leaves and cider and everything that may or may not be stereotypical about fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="89" style="background-color: transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (10:46:15 PM)&lt;/AIM:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;ahh, i can only imagine the intense soul melting cuteness you probably drip of when you have red cheeks and nose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="90" style="background-color: transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (10:46:16 PM)&lt;/AIM:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;can't wait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-2937971662189544437?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/2937971662189544437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=2937971662189544437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2937971662189544437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/2937971662189544437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/sometimes-thats-just-what-we-need-to.html' title='Sometimes that&apos;s just what we need to get us through the day.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-1324075951832022578</id><published>2008-08-24T23:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:09:32.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So much, so much...</title><content type='html'>I don't even know where to begin; I just feel like getting a million and one thoughts out on a computer screen.  I love the way my thoughts flow into words against my kooky polka dotted background.  I love to hear the sound of my fingertips tapping on my laptop keys.  That sound is just so satisfying.  That sound should drive me to write my first piece of Young Adult fiction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting at the dining room table in my house-which-no-longer-feels-quite-like-home, and the puppies are finally asleep.  I can hear my grandmother complaining about her stomach from her room.  I can feel my elbows digging into the arms of one of the many mismatched chairs that exist around the table.  On the table next to me, two pieces of opened mail confirm that I am destined for bigger and better things than this blog, the Great Wolf Lodge, and my own lowered and lazy expectations for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of a terribly funny moment featuring my mother on speaker phone explaining to my Michael the reasoning behind her putting me on one of those kiddie leashes when I was younger, my mother told me that my child abuse clearance and a letter in a Wilkes envelope had arrived in the mail.  I couldn't be happier.  These are the two things, the two positive signs, that I needed to prove to myself and the world that I am ready to be a teacher again.  The child abuse clearance is standard, but the letter of recommendation that I received from one of my Ed professors is probably the nicest and truest description of myself that I have ever read.  I need to include some of this letter here, due in part to the fact that I am under the impression that this woman knows me better than I know myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...Furthermore, Ms. Ferrantino demonstrated, through all her work and interpersonal interactions, a unique sense of humor that was always appropriate and highly creative, but never derogatory or negative.  Her humor lifts morale and engages those around her, whether students or colleagues.  She has a joyful approach to education that will flourish in the proper environment and will benefit her students greatly.  As a young professional, she shows much promise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who know me as someone other than a faceless blog, you know that this is me.  I can't think of a better way to verbalize my aspirations for and attitudes towards teaching.   Reading the way I am presented on this piece of paper makes me more determined than I have ever been to succeed at this career choice, this life-calling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of other stuff happened recently, but it was so not that important.  Tee-hee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-1324075951832022578?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/1324075951832022578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=1324075951832022578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1324075951832022578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/1324075951832022578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-much-so-much.html' title='So much, so much...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8806240523416426992</id><published>2008-08-23T08:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T08:47:16.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting better all the time.</title><content type='html'>I just got out of the shower, and I am sitting in my bed in my general underthings, and I am listening to the Ting Tings.  This is the type of music that makes me want to dance around in my general underthings while perhaps drinking a glass of wine.  Big ups to Mary Rose.  I am also apparently taking a few moments from what will inevitably be a busy day to ruminate about my day.  My bowl of Kix is getting soggy as I type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had a pretty solid day at work yesterday.  All of that shit is coming back to me.  It just took a little longer than I would have liked.  I still need some direction, but I've remastered some of the computer systems, so that will make everything a bit easier.  And I only have to work there four hours this morning, so, go me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following this lovely work day, I came home and got changed.  I did indeed put on "walking shoes."  Unlike a lot of people, my flip flops are my walking shoes.  I can walk ridiculously far distances in flip flops, but I doubt that many people could figuratively walk a mile in my flip flops...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went over to boyfriend's for a pre-birthday celebration as we will not get to spend any part of my actual birthday together.  He definitely got me some of the most awesome presents I have ever received, including a book titled &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;American Nerd&lt;/span&gt;, a mix cd of sorts, and a relaxation tub caddy for when I take baths.  It holds a book, a glass of wine, and a candle.  He took me out for a rather pleasant dinner, and we came back to my apartment and watched some Home Improvement and drank more with my roommates.  Not quite an evening for the record books, but a nice one nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm exhausted because I never really feel like I sleep enough after consuming any amount of alcohol, and I have to get ready to go to work.  I really don't feel like working twice today.  That's my own fault, I suppose.  I think I'll be ok to ignore the general bullshit that seems to want to stare me down at the one job.  As long as I'm happy, who gives a crap what anybody else thinks.  Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8806240523416426992?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8806240523416426992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8806240523416426992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8806240523416426992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8806240523416426992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-getting-better-all-time.html' title='It&apos;s getting better all the time.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8429721010215075170</id><published>2008-08-21T17:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T17:47:19.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This blog was supposed to be different.</title><content type='html'>This was supposed to be the "grown-up" blog.  This was not supposed to be my whiny, emo, angst-ridden livejournal.  Old habits die hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I started my new old job last night.  I was spazzing for a brief period of time because I have literally forgotten everything I ever knew about working there.  However, as the night went on, I began to pick up on all the minutiae I'd forgotten, and things got better, easier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was another story.  It's a busy time at the store.  I was kicking ass the first few hours.  I was  even having a pretty good time working there.  I can't say that I ever really had a good time working there during my first tour of duty there.  And then the drama started.  I was supposed to be Chris' no drama buddy, but drama seems to follow me wherever I go.  Chris told me it wasn't my fault; I'm merely a victim of the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, without airing all of my dirty laundry for the entire internet to peruse, I have pretty much given the reason behind what will be my early departure from this employment venture.  I really don't need the pittance they're paying me, and I certainly do not need the aggravation.  I would say it was nice while it lasted, but the nice lasted less long than the actual job itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8429721010215075170?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8429721010215075170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8429721010215075170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8429721010215075170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8429721010215075170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-blog-was-supposed-to-be-different.html' title='This blog was supposed to be different.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-3769935100588118419</id><published>2008-08-18T21:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T21:32:50.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And so much has happened since I decided to start this "Grown-Up" blog...</title><content type='html'>I think I may have to give a brief rundown of the events of my existence for the masses that obviously read this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That stable, happy relationship that I was in at the time of posting of the last entry?  Yeah, that ended approximately two weeks after that post.  The cool thing is, we're still a huge part of each other's lives and great friends.  This is the first time that that has ever really happened to me, and I think this has a definite impact on my current state of being. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose you could say that I dated around for a bit after that, but I'm very pleased with where I've ended up.  I'm seeing a wonderful guy, and as of right now, that's all I care to say about that.  I'm sure I will elaborate on this fact in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend moved to South Korea for a year.  I admire her guts more than anything in this world.  I wish I could be like her.  There is a chance that I will get that opportunity in the coming school year.  Apparently this post is like a teaser trailer for my upcoming life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was promoted at the Lodge.  I'm the MagiQuest supervisor.  The only truly exciting thing to come of this is that I finally got a new costume.  This new princess get-up still does not fit.  And really, I'm no princess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get back into teaching more than I can possibly say.  I'm tired of dicking around; I want to start (re-start?) my career.  The fact that I'm going back to one of my old jobs on my days off from the Lodge probably will not help facilitate this.  But this new (old?) retail extension of my existence could provide for some fun and exciting blog fodder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to wrap up this recap by stating that Nikki Nulton will probably forever be tied to my blogging habits in one way or another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-3769935100588118419?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/3769935100588118419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=3769935100588118419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3769935100588118419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/3769935100588118419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-so-much-has-happened-since-i.html' title='And so much has happened since I decided to start this &quot;Grown-Up&quot; blog...'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-9158770789887015355</id><published>2008-02-27T23:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T00:06:43.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I want to learn how to sew.</title><content type='html'>As I am generally a whore for all things pop culture, I am pretty darn obsessed with both Project Runway and America's Next Top Model.  Since I am utterly incapable of taking a good picture, I doubt modeling is in my future.  Therefore, I must learn to sew/draw so I can make my own clothes and/or be America's next big fashion designer.  Obviously this is my true calling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to lunch with an ex-boyfriend next week.  This is bizarre to me.   Just after we broke up, we were 'bffs.'  Then we both pretty much fell off the face of the earth.  Now I guess we're trying this whole reconnecting as 'bffs' thing.  Actually, I doubt that's his reasoning for it.  Maybe he just feels obligated?  But I really don't know where he would get any sense of obligation towards being super-de-dooper friendly towards me all of a sudden.  We're both in stable, happy relationships right now...at least I am.  I really don't know much about his girlfriend, other than the fact that I think they've been dating for almost four years.  Which means we haven't dated in approximately four and a half to five years.  That doesn't seem right, so I might be off by a year or six months or so.  Maybe time is really flying faster than I like to admit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That really doesn't have anything to do with anything, except for the fact that I am talking to said ex-boyfriend on AIM as I write.  ANTM from this evening is playing in the other room as I didn't really expect to spend this much time online.  You know what they say about plans, mice, and men, right?  I'm going to go rewind my guilty pleasure and really watch it.  I don't think that I need to add that I love my DVR box, but I will add that anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-9158770789887015355?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/9158770789887015355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=9158770789887015355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/9158770789887015355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/9158770789887015355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-think-i-want-to-learn-how-to-sew.html' title='I think I want to learn how to sew.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8015814765653490226.post-8226081228352698349</id><published>2008-02-27T01:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T01:36:00.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My goal is to attempt to write in this every day.</title><content type='html'>I really think I might succeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the evening with one of my former roommates and her new roommate who teaches at my old school which isn't really my old school anymore.  We spent the evening making chocolate lollipops.  However, my friends, these were not just any chocolate lollipops.  No, these were chocolate Vagina pops.  I suppose it also depends on what you would like to call them as well.  They go by many names:  Vagina pops, Labia pops, and (my favorite!) Pussy pops.  This is brilliance personified, really and truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we were not making chocolate vaginas solely for our own amusement.  These are chocolate vaginas with a message, a purpose.  We're actually selling them as part of the V-Day campaign, which is pretty amazing.  Check out some more about that at either www.vday.org or www.vdaywb.org.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely tired, and I have a nine hour work shift ahead of me tomorrow.  I also think I am going to go to Best Buy and purchase Flight of the Conchords as it is now my new favorite television show ever.  I wanted this blog to be more than just a brief discussion of the events of my daily life.  But I also want to attempt to write in this on a daily basis, so some days I'm sure I won't have anything of major importance to write about, and I'm just going to have to deal with that for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8015814765653490226-8226081228352698349?l=gfanw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/feeds/8226081228352698349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8015814765653490226&amp;postID=8226081228352698349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8226081228352698349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8015814765653490226/posts/default/8226081228352698349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gfanw.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-goal-is-to-attempt-to-write-in-this.html' title='My goal is to attempt to write in this every day.'/><author><name>Girl for a New World</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02765648695082756677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MI-qnGJxspE/R8OipHKDRzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XZnt9kksAdQ/S220/100_6994.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
