<?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-2057619607390618154</id><updated>2012-02-16T11:32:29.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm stuck with myself</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-2657030476754847976</id><published>2010-01-14T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T19:07:38.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The breakee and breaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_b9y-ZSMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JNrZVgnEmng/s1600-h/11-08-how_to_survive_a_breakup1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_b9y-ZSMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JNrZVgnEmng/s320/11-08-how_to_survive_a_breakup1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426797930706716866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When couples break up it's always hard, there are so many questions going through your head like what did I do wrong, why don't they love me anymore, or how am I ever going to get over them.&lt;br /&gt;I know for myself I always wondered how I would get through it and move on, and it definitely didn't come easy, I spent months asking myself those questions and they were never answered. I thought I had done something wrong. But eventually you pick yourself up and realize you can live without them and that it's really not the end of the world.&lt;br /&gt;ha thats what I thought until I saw him months after we broke up, and as soon as my eyes met his my mind brought back each memory, it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, seeing him gave me tremendous pain and a way I could not of imagined it. All that went through after was how did I let him go, how did I watch him walk away and not beg for him back, and what if I had of asked for him back, would he of wanted me.&lt;br /&gt;There is also those breakups where you initiate them. You finally realize that you and your significant other really aren't meant to be together and that things just aren't the same anymore. You move on fairly fast and you don't think anything of it. Ya that is until you see them and realize you may of let the best thing in your life go. You realize that you made a huge mistake but by this time its too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-2657030476754847976?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/2657030476754847976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/breakee-and-breaker.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/2657030476754847976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/2657030476754847976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/breakee-and-breaker.html' title='The breakee and breaker'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_b9y-ZSMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/JNrZVgnEmng/s72-c/11-08-how_to_survive_a_breakup1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-5894373604575014289</id><published>2010-01-12T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:54:53.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort in my own way</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_Y9xk6NzI/AAAAAAAAAEw/FZyKeuPTTK4/s1600-h/n504618245_346555_6903.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_Y9xk6NzI/AAAAAAAAAEw/FZyKeuPTTK4/s320/n504618245_346555_6903.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426794631796504370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is finding comfort in someone that you will never be with wrong or is it only human to want something with someone you can't have. I have a few guy friends that I can lay down and snuggle with, and to some people that may be weird but it makes me feel special having someone hold me even though it's not the person who makes my heart beat fast and make my stomach turn. I know someday I will find that person I'm meant to be with and they will comfort me and make me feel whole, but until that day I like having someone who can be there for me as selfish as that sounds.&lt;br /&gt;The person that can ease my mind can only be described as a beautiful person. He makes me laugh smile and at one point in my life I thought that maybe he would be the one I would share my life with but as time came and passed I realized that his priorities were not the same as mine and we parted ways, but since then our friendship has grown and I find great comfort in my chats and time with him. Although there are many good things about having him around, there is always that gut wrenching feeling when he leaves, that leaves me to wondering if I am really over him or my heart is hiding behind my walls.&lt;br /&gt;For the last month I have been trying to get over a guy by hanging out and going on dates with other guys, and some days I truly believe it's working and I'm finally content with not being with him but then other days I just sit home wondering why I'm not good enough for him and what I did wrong to make him shun away. Is it my fault that he doesn't feel about me the way I do, or is it that he's just not that into me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-5894373604575014289?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/5894373604575014289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/comfort-in-my-own-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/5894373604575014289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/5894373604575014289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/comfort-in-my-own-way.html' title='Comfort in my own way'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0_Y9xk6NzI/AAAAAAAAAEw/FZyKeuPTTK4/s72-c/n504618245_346555_6903.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-3495606636230130126</id><published>2010-01-11T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T13:12:35.818-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I should be the leading lady in my own life for god sakes"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0uUIa0DKaI/AAAAAAAAAEo/5dnrfnjq1Uo/s1600-h/17869_270386480438_510760438_4423181_7759161_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0uUIa0DKaI/AAAAAAAAAEo/5dnrfnjq1Uo/s320/17869_270386480438_510760438_4423181_7759161_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425593048455391650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every so often I will forget about who I'm supposed to be looking out for, and in your own life it should be you. Often times I get side tracked thinking about how to make people like me more and how to make my life better then it already is when I should be focusing on what makes me happy. Not everyone is going to like me and I try and realize that everyday but some days its so hard to picture someone not liking me and someone feeling hate against me, so I try my best to be as nice as possible and fit in.&lt;br /&gt;Lately more then ever its been more hard to make everyone around me happy and juggle school and work. It's just impossible and I'm beginning to get worn out and worrisome about what is actually the more important thing in my life. I have to stand back and say school is my #1 priority not trying to make everyone happy and content around me.&lt;br /&gt;I feel when I can make someone happy or make them feel like I'm a important person in their life I am making things better but in actual fact I'm wasting time on what could of been school work on something pointless and fake. It's impossible to please everyone and as more time goes on I'm beginning to realize this.&lt;br /&gt;This however doesn't mean I am in anyway going to be mean to the people around me. I will be positive like I always am but make sure I am looking out for myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-3495606636230130126?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/3495606636230130126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-should-be-leading-lady-in-my-own-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3495606636230130126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3495606636230130126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-should-be-leading-lady-in-my-own-life.html' title='&quot;I should be the leading lady in my own life for god sakes&quot;'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0uUIa0DKaI/AAAAAAAAAEo/5dnrfnjq1Uo/s72-c/17869_270386480438_510760438_4423181_7759161_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-23312184602849374</id><published>2010-01-07T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T18:58:50.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pretenders Behind the Masks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0afVfNvn0I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Y3bYnYZDMxU/s1600-h/upimg5_masks_161505.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0afVfNvn0I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Y3bYnYZDMxU/s320/upimg5_masks_161505.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424197992719556418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretending has never been my strongest suite, I've always spoken my mind or just kept my mouth shut, I never needed to lie and put on a fake smile, but this last week I feel has been the biggest lie of my life. Going to class each day and sitting there smiling, making it seem like I'm totally okay with the circumstances, when really inside I want to scream "how aren't you hurt and why don't you miss me"? Isn't there one ounce of your body and heart that wants me back in your life the way I was a month ago, or are you seriously just okay with seeing me at school and passing me by?&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm not. My body yearns for yours when I lay in my bed, and the spot where you once rested your head is now cold, as if you had never been here. I wake up some nights and find myself reaching for you even though I know you're no where in sight.&lt;br /&gt;It's as if nothing had happened with us, as if these last two months were just made up in my imagination and I woke to find that you're not mine. I know I want you and my heart wants to tell you but the walls I've been so content with being held up are sticking and won't let my brain tell you my need for your presence. I'm by no means asking you to come back to me begging but just for you to acknowledge that there was at one spot a bond between us and although its broken we can still be friends.&lt;br /&gt;Some people go their whole lives pretending to be someone their not. They wake up and tell themselves that everything is okay and that they are content living the way they are living, when in actual fact they too yearn for comfort in the arms of someone they care about. The heart wants what it wants and most of the time were too afraid to admit it. We feel as if its easier hiding behind a mask that can't hurt us, but is it really protecting us or is it hurting us more in the long run. Can hiding from our problems keep they from getting inside our mask, or can it just provide enough comfort to get through the day. Can people live without the magical heart-renching love that we read about in books and see in the movies, or is it even real?&lt;br /&gt;I believe someday that the masks will come off and at that time there will be someone that sees through what we thought wasn't perfect.&lt;br /&gt;For me the mask will help for right now while heart begins to heal. It may even save me from what could of been a long and hard pity party, but eventually I'm going to have to take it off and when that time comes I hope this pain in me will be gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try not to wait for you, because I need to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-23312184602849374?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/23312184602849374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/pretenders-behind-masks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/23312184602849374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/23312184602849374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2010/01/pretenders-behind-masks.html' title='The Pretenders Behind the Masks'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/S0afVfNvn0I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Y3bYnYZDMxU/s72-c/upimg5_masks_161505.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-4277745006395251556</id><published>2009-12-29T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T20:17:37.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Resolutions!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SzrUSMbsuKI/AAAAAAAAAEY/q8OIsgoefiI/s1600-h/jackie+087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SzrUSMbsuKI/AAAAAAAAAEY/q8OIsgoefiI/s320/jackie+087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420878510533949602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each year I tell myself I won't or will do certain things, and each year I go back on them. This year I want to stay true to my word, because I think that having a plan or some boundaries for one's life can be beneficial. I need to have the list right in front of me to abide by the rules and make myself listen. I don't want to set boundaries that are unrealistic and I know I won't keep, I want to do or not do things that will benefit me over this next year, things that will help me grow as a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;New Years List:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-do not revolve my life around a guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-do not settle for less then perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-stay positive even when things don't turn out the way I hoped&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-only go out to eat once a week&lt;br /&gt;-milk or water instead of pop&lt;br /&gt;-remember to smile when you feel like frowing&lt;br /&gt;-remember that you are special no matter what&lt;br /&gt;-keep your heart guarded&lt;br /&gt;-treat everyone as equals&lt;br /&gt;-try to stay calm in crazy situations&lt;br /&gt;-be yourself&lt;br /&gt;-school is the most important thing in your life right now, do well&lt;br /&gt;-don't let anyone tell you, you aren't extraordinary because you are&lt;br /&gt;-let the guys do the asking, you are not a door mat&lt;br /&gt;-and finally live in the moment&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/2057619607390618154-4277745006395251556?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/4277745006395251556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/12/each-year-i-tell-myself-i-wont-or-will.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4277745006395251556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4277745006395251556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/12/each-year-i-tell-myself-i-wont-or-will.html' title='New Years Resolutions!'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SzrUSMbsuKI/AAAAAAAAAEY/q8OIsgoefiI/s72-c/jackie+087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-8571317950624089595</id><published>2009-12-20T17:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T17:29:21.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sy7OxCULqfI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/WzQ0HYdLALQ/s1600-h/9222_135503308245_504618245_2745502_4179704_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sy7OxCULqfI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/WzQ0HYdLALQ/s320/9222_135503308245_504618245_2745502_4179704_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417494743603718642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past few weeks have been tremendously hard. I've been back and forth with my emotions everyday, not knowing what to think or feel. Have I done something to deserve what I am going through or is just dumb luck that I always end up in situations like this.&lt;br /&gt;I have liked three people and it seems to me like in a sense I either pushed all of them away, or it wasn't even about me, they just weren't the right guys for me. Still I sit here wondering what I have done wrong to push them out of my life, when in actual fact I didn't want any of them out of it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't let my walls down easily, they are always fighting to stay up because they guard whatever is inside of me, whatever if left of my heart. I feel constantly like someone is banging on the walls trying to get in but all I can do is just sit behind them crying to be let out, but they stay intact, never moving. But when they do decide break down, an army invades and rips me apart, hense building tougher walls when I pick myself up off the ground and heal from the battle.&lt;br /&gt;People say that bad things happen to everyone but why then am I surrounded by happy people all the time. Each member in my family is without faults yet they cling to someone with love and yet I don't ever get it recipricated. I'll sit around my table another year on christmas wondering what I have done to not deserve to have that special person in my life while everyone else smiles at there significant other with love in there eyes.&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that someone put a person in front of me that I feel like I can live without, this person completes me and makes me feel like every wall surrounding me can be taken down for good, and then they get ripped out of my hands, as if to say "ya this is what you could have, but you don't so suck it up"&lt;br /&gt;I know that I am still young and I have so many years to meet someone, but for the time inbetween I would like to be happy with a person that doesn't have to be the one, but could be the one for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-8571317950624089595?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/8571317950624089595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/12/is-it-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/8571317950624089595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/8571317950624089595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/12/is-it-me.html' title='Is it me?'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sy7OxCULqfI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/WzQ0HYdLALQ/s72-c/9222_135503308245_504618245_2745502_4179704_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-4622388945803847891</id><published>2009-09-15T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T06:04:54.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It's been a while since I last wrote something and today I remembered the peace it gave me to write something down instead of saying it all outloud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This summer was amazing, confusing and completely out of this world, and although I could sit here and try to tell you what I did all summer, all I really have to say is that I changed and I'm still trying to figure out if this change will benefit me or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always been kind of a shy person and didn't really let on like I had that much to talk about. I mostly sat there and listened. Now that's all I do, it's like i'm in a permanent blob stage and I can't get out of it. I don't laugh until I fall to the ground, I don't smile with every inch of my being, and I most certainly don't love until it hurts. I am not okay and I don't know how I got here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel as if everyone is moving on and I'm still at the starting line trying to move my legs but they are glued to the ground with such force. Everyone is sitting around a table laughing and talking and I'm by myself waiting for someone to come over and ask me to join. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-4622388945803847891?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/4622388945803847891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-been-while-since-i-last-wrote.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4622388945803847891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4622388945803847891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-been-while-since-i-last-wrote.html' title=''/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-3796438629852227360</id><published>2009-06-08T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T18:33:42.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worry worry worry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Si276Qab4jI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DZmZ_fMMXDw/s1600-h/dfm3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Si276Qab4jI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DZmZ_fMMXDw/s320/dfm3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345134942271300146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one thing I am constantly doing. It could be while I'm sleeping or even when I'm just hanging out having a good time. It's worrying. Evening, noon and night I am worrying about something. Most of the time its what other people think of me but then other times its money, relationships and friends.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes this worrying can turn into anxiety and that's when I know I have to do something about it. I usually sit down and try to recall how I started worrying in the first place. I usually can get down to the point but if I can't its just something else I can worry about. I don't know if its because I have an obsession with being a perfectionist or it has to do with the fact that I can't seem to make myself happy anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Questions and questions go through my head and the answers are never clear or marked correctly. I see my life going in a certain direction and I obsess about getting to the point in my life where I can say I am successful an have made a nice like for myself. This can be a whole other story in itself. How much can one person worry, and this answer is all the time! I've been trying to find a way to get over this, but everything I do just ends where I began.&lt;br /&gt;It always isn't just how I worry so much, I can actually make myself sick to my stomach from sitting there and over thinking too much. I can make myself believe things that may not be true and then other times I can want so bad to be different and change my perspective that I just start the worrying all over again!&lt;br /&gt;I am aware that I need help in this department and that if I don't get help soon I may end up as an as old cat lady sitting in my rocking chair, so unaware of what is going on around me and so fucked up that I don't know which way is up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop worrying, and now I'm worrying about that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-3796438629852227360?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/3796438629852227360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/06/worry-worry-worry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3796438629852227360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3796438629852227360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/06/worry-worry-worry.html' title='Worry worry worry'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Si276Qab4jI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DZmZ_fMMXDw/s72-c/dfm3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-1720081403276481550</id><published>2009-05-28T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T19:57:29.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rare like a diamond</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sh9O5xbFxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/iiBE5kWBV-E/s1600-h/IMG_0568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sh9O5xbFxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/iiBE5kWBV-E/s320/IMG_0568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341074437511169730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A real friendship is not something you come across everyday and it's also not something you throw away. Many people think they know the meaning of friendship but unless your friendship has been tested you have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;It's not just about being there for each other, its just like an actually dating relationships. There will be tough times and sometimes you may even want to quit, and those are the times you know that it's real.&lt;br /&gt;I sit back and look at groups of friends from a distance and sometimes laugh because I see how they disrespect each other and how they are easy to give up that relationship for something new and new isn't always better.&lt;br /&gt;I am one of those people that likes to be a lone quit a bit so I've never yearned for that kind of friendship, but that all changed this year when I met Danielle. I didn't have any intention of getting to know her but since we have the same name it all just came together. She is there for me when I need guidance and maybe it's not always what I want to hear but I always appreciate the honesty. She will rarely sugar coat things to make them sound better.&lt;br /&gt;We are going through a rough time right now and our relationship is being tested constantly but we always come out in the end on top! We argue about a lot of things and we have a lot different views on things but somehow we always look at each others sides and try to reason with each other.&lt;br /&gt;She has seen me at my highest and lowest point, and still sticks my my side. She laughs off when I'm being a bitch and understands that I screw up frequently. She is patient when I may not be, and relaxed when I'm crazed. She makes me smile when I'm sad and makes me laugh when nothing seems to be going my way. She's my best friend and that will remain the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She may get on my nerves and I may get on hers, But I don't mind, shes my best friend!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Best friends are like diamonds, precious and rare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; False friends are like leaves, found everywhere."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-1720081403276481550?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/1720081403276481550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/rare-like-diamond.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1720081403276481550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1720081403276481550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/rare-like-diamond.html' title='Rare like a diamond'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sh9O5xbFxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/iiBE5kWBV-E/s72-c/IMG_0568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-1788185190938724196</id><published>2009-05-28T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T14:43:53.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stand Still, Look Pretty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"Stand Still, Look Pretty"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Wreckers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I want to paint my face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; And pretend that I am someone else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Sometimes I get so fed up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I don't even want to look at myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; But people have problems that are worse than mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; And I hate the way you look at me I have to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I wish I could start over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I am slowly falling apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; You might think it's easy being me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; You just stand still, look pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Sometimes I find myself shaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; In the middle of the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; And then it hits me and I can't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Even believe this is my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; But people have problems that are worse than mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; And I wish that everyone would go and shut their mouths&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt; I'm not strong enough to deal with it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-1788185190938724196?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/1788185190938724196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/stand-still-look-pretty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1788185190938724196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1788185190938724196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/stand-still-look-pretty.html' title='Stand Still, Look Pretty'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-8958621009601001957</id><published>2009-05-25T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T11:22:43.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change's in direction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Shrh6ErCvlI/AAAAAAAAADY/zLLNhd-SNTY/s1600-h/ouuuut+128.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Shrh6ErCvlI/AAAAAAAAADY/zLLNhd-SNTY/s320/ouuuut+128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339828696004083282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my 18, nearly 19 years if life I have come to realize that no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, you cannot change a person. You can want whats best for them and be there for them when they need you, but never change them.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that people can't change because everyone should welcome change in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes people get inspiration through others and learn lessons through teachings. For me I take a step back every once in a while and look at myself. I check to see if I'm being a good person and I'm living my life how I know I should be living it. But lately I've been quite messed up in this department. I've let people mold my life and structure it the way they feel fit. I haven't been living my life the way I had planned for me or taking a look at myself when I know I have done something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life I've become very lost in who I am and what I intend the direction of my life to go in. I want for myself what everyone wants for themselves; love and happiness. I also want to be appreciated and appreciate others for who they are. There is nothing in my life I want more then to look back in 50 years and say "ya I did everything I wanted to, and I became a pretty decent person. I'm proud of myself"&lt;br /&gt;People are always saying life is a journey and you choose your own paths and I believe this 100%. You have to look at life as a journey and yes once in a while you will come to some bumps in the road but like all things it can be accomplished and you can get through it. Everyone has it in them to accomplish whatever they want, all you have to do is work for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see my path and I'm walking it, and I sure as hell don't mind:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-8958621009601001957?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/8958621009601001957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/changes-in-direction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/8958621009601001957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/8958621009601001957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/changes-in-direction.html' title='Change&apos;s in direction'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Shrh6ErCvlI/AAAAAAAAADY/zLLNhd-SNTY/s72-c/ouuuut+128.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-1264523784478343781</id><published>2009-05-24T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T19:40:10.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It will be okay.. I'm sure of it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShoE55X853I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Nn-nYgsraE8/s1600-h/_MG_1377-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShoE55X853I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Nn-nYgsraE8/s320/_MG_1377-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339585700901480306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a thinker. I believe like most people things happen for a reason. And I most certainly believe for the most everyone is good and deserves a second chance. So then why do I feel like someone just took my heart, pulled it out of my chest and stomped on it and put it back?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will never know what he's thinking or even know if maybe he is actually sorry for the things he has done. But I feel closure in knowing that I know I couldn't have done anything. He has lots of problems and they need to be sorted out by him alone. My guidance and insecurities could not be shared with him or understood by him at this point.&lt;br /&gt;Although I know I have enough strength to get through times like this because I have before my mind tells me that you need to fix this, make it better, it cannot be left alone. But in all fact it does. I need to let time take my problems and at a later day come back to them with a positive attitude.&lt;br /&gt;"People do wrong and people do right", and of course it may not always be the best thing for you, you will get through it and will come out alive. Shit happens to everyone and wallowing in self pity will never make you the strong person you need to be.&lt;br /&gt;So I sit here today saying that I will not let my emotions out rule what I know I am and can be and I will not let them make me feel bad for things I cannot change. I will be strong in times of sorrow and will rejoice because I am alive and well. Yes I may shed a few years here and there and maybe sometimes the tears will pour like a waterfall, but in this I know I will get through it, I will overrule any bad thing in my life and will go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be upset and I may have red eyes from crying, but it's okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-1264523784478343781?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/1264523784478343781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-will-be-okay-im-sure-of-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1264523784478343781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/1264523784478343781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-will-be-okay-im-sure-of-it.html' title='It will be okay.. I&apos;m sure of it'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShoE55X853I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Nn-nYgsraE8/s72-c/_MG_1377-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-4231918561161641537</id><published>2009-05-23T07:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T10:26:28.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're yes then you're no</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShgR-2W2h-I/AAAAAAAAADI/7U-vvRKQc_I/s1600-h/IMG_0451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShgR-2W2h-I/AAAAAAAAADI/7U-vvRKQc_I/s320/IMG_0451.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339037129688647650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever met someone and as soon are your eyes hit you new you would be together. You may have just met them or knew them for years, but in either case your mind knows before your heart does what you want.&lt;br /&gt;I don't get that feeling very often, it has happened once in my life and that person was the most difficult to get over. But recently I decided that he was no longer a part of my life and I started seeing someone else. This guy isn't what you would call clean cut and he is definitely not someone&lt;br /&gt;I would normally date. I usually stick to good guys, the kind that get all A's and know what they want to do with their lives. This guy doesn't know where he is going to be in a week and somehow it caught my interest.&lt;br /&gt;He's broken but yet when I see him, he seems completely whole. I have that connection with this guy that I know doesn't come around often but as much as I try things don't work out. He pulls I push, I pull and he pushes. Nothing is ever even and nothing is ever right, but somehow it is. We hardly get along but that's, I guess, part of our charm. We don't agree to disagree and we never want to admit we were wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've found that I will apologize to him even though I know its not my fault, and this is because I would rather him have his way then us to keep arguing about someone insignificant. I feel like this is somewhat a bad thing because now he never knows when I actually am upset or when I'm serious.&lt;br /&gt;I realize that he has problems of his own and that I could never imagine what he's going through but I need to feel like I'm wanted and I need to feel like he cares about me. He used to write me notes everyday, make me cd's and give me secret codes to decipher, but in the last couple weeks this has changed. I don't get notes, I get ignored and I really don't appreciate being ignored.&lt;br /&gt;I know if both of us tried I'm sure we would be okay but I'm getting the feeling he doesn't want to ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very confused about what to do and I'm not okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-4231918561161641537?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/4231918561161641537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/have-you-ever-met-someone-and-as-soon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4231918561161641537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/4231918561161641537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/have-you-ever-met-someone-and-as-soon.html' title='You&apos;re yes then you&apos;re no'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShgR-2W2h-I/AAAAAAAAADI/7U-vvRKQc_I/s72-c/IMG_0451.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-3051547807715848517</id><published>2009-05-22T15:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T15:40:50.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting mad for 5 minutes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShcnmijrNbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/t_ZlaItKWcE/s1600-h/_MG_1326.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShcnmijrNbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/t_ZlaItKWcE/s320/_MG_1326.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338779426335962546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Whenever I'm in a bad mood I may say some things I don't mean, but I will always say sorry right after. I can never let an argument go unsolved so my initial response is to apologize.&lt;br /&gt;I got to thinking one day that I needed to break this habit, because I know that everything isn't my fault and I let people push me around a lot, but for me its one of the toughest habits to break.&lt;br /&gt;Someone could start an argument with me, and we could disagree for hours, but as soon as they say they have to go I apologize, and I usually had forgotten who started the argument in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;I'm one of those people that can get mad pretty easily. You could forget to call or just be late and I will probably not be happy. But although I get mad easily I also forgive easily and in a way that's a bad thing. It usually lasts over a span of five minutes. First I'll be red in the face because I'm so pissed then I'll feel bad for getting pissed off and then I'll start to apologize for pretty much nothing.&lt;br /&gt;To some people I sound like a crazy person, but I just can't stay mad at someone. As hard as I try and as much as I want to still be mad at them I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;I know for other people this isn't the case and some people can stay mad for long. This bugs me! Like how long could someone stay mad? A day, a month, a year! I don't understand how someone can hold that much anger towards someone. So even if I hate the way I react to some things I'm glad I'm not a grudge holder and I'm not stressing myself all the time because someone did something to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let your anger out! Don't keep it in:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-3051547807715848517?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/3051547807715848517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-mad-for-5-minutes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3051547807715848517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/3051547807715848517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-mad-for-5-minutes.html' title='Getting mad for 5 minutes!'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/ShcnmijrNbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/t_ZlaItKWcE/s72-c/_MG_1326.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-7694696618345256602</id><published>2009-04-06T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:24:51.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SdrxVuztuuI/AAAAAAAAACo/CGyLDnKu3NU/s1600-h/_MG_8808-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SdrxVuztuuI/AAAAAAAAACo/CGyLDnKu3NU/s320/_MG_8808-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321831265336146658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this thing I do when I'm bored, and it's most likely something that other people do, but this thing relieves me of my stress, and comforts me when I'm lonely.&lt;br /&gt;I love to write songs, I will sit down for hours thinking of new verses for a song, and look back in my life and write songs about it. I have about 40 songs, which could probably make around 3 albums if I wanted to, but I enjoy keeping the songs to myself. They are like my little secret, the little piece of me that no one knows, and it makes me happy to know that not everyone knows everything about me.&lt;br /&gt;But for this once I will post some lyrics I wrote for fun. Enjoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sing way too much&lt;br /&gt;But I don't mind:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Clover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sit in my bedroom and the silence is the first clue&lt;br /&gt;I want to reach up to you but my doubt comes through&lt;br /&gt;I can’t tell you I’ve been missing everything about you&lt;br /&gt;And that I’ve been wishing you would tell me that too&lt;br /&gt;But one day I will finally come through and tell you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were that one guy that I can’t get over&lt;br /&gt;And I wish everyday you’d come back on a clover&lt;br /&gt;There are words I would say to get you back right here&lt;br /&gt;But my mind plays back all my yesterday fears&lt;br /&gt;There’s a tune I will sing to tell you I’m yours&lt;br /&gt;And we will dance in the rain until it finally pours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember each of those days in the summer time&lt;br /&gt;When we would run into the woods find a tree and climb&lt;br /&gt;We would sit there and talk until we heard the chimes&lt;br /&gt;And so we would say our goodbyes like the mines&lt;br /&gt;We wouldn’t talk but I would look into your eyes and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are that one guy that I won’t ever get over&lt;br /&gt;And I wish everyday you’ll stay here on a clover&lt;br /&gt;These words I say will hopefully keep you right here&lt;br /&gt;But my mind comes up with all these made up fears&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll sing a tune to let you know I’m yours&lt;br /&gt;So let’s dance in the rain until it finally pours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I pretend to be okay just being your friend&lt;br /&gt;Can I fix this broken heart that needs you to mend&lt;br /&gt;Or should I get over all these made up fears&lt;br /&gt;And stop crying these dried out tears&lt;br /&gt;And just finally let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are that one guy that I won’t ever get over&lt;br /&gt;And I wish everyday you’ll stay here on a clover&lt;br /&gt;These words I say will hopefully keep you right here&lt;br /&gt;But my mind comes up with all these made up fears&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll sing a tune to let you know I’m yours&lt;br /&gt;And we will dance in the rain until it finally pours&lt;br /&gt;We will kiss until were out of breathe&lt;br /&gt;And we’ll know were meant be&lt;br /&gt;Because we love each other&lt;br /&gt;And that’s all we really need&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-7694696618345256602?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/7694696618345256602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-little-secret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/7694696618345256602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/7694696618345256602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-little-secret.html' title='My Little Secret'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/SdrxVuztuuI/AAAAAAAAACo/CGyLDnKu3NU/s72-c/_MG_8808-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-6648112186613634425</id><published>2009-04-04T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T07:04:15.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not insane...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sddo1zcZOxI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5qUfRX7pBIE/s1600-h/IMG_8646-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sddo1zcZOxI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5qUfRX7pBIE/s320/IMG_8646-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320836758313188114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had one of those really strange dreams. The ones only lunatics have, and of course I would get them! But I'm sane I swear.&lt;br /&gt;It was one of those dreams that your not sure if you want to wake up from, or if you want to continuing wondering if your crazy. I sometimes wonder if dreams are meant to show us something that maybe we should watch out for, because in numerous dreams of mine they were similar to my own life at the moment, but maybe they mean nothing and I'm just going crazy and I'm unaware of it.&lt;br /&gt;There have been times that I swear I had seen a certain movie or watched a certain show, but I know I could never of saw it because it's new. Then I start to thinking maybe I saw a commercial and in my head I pieced together what I think would happen and maybe it was really close, so when I watched the show at a later date I though I had seen it.&lt;br /&gt;None of our dreams or thoughts can fully be explained. People can try to translate the things we see but there is no telling what kind of crazy things we put together in our head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm insane&lt;br /&gt;But I don't mind:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-6648112186613634425?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/6648112186613634425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-not-insane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/6648112186613634425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/6648112186613634425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-not-insane.html' title='I&apos;m not insane...'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sddo1zcZOxI/AAAAAAAAACQ/5qUfRX7pBIE/s72-c/IMG_8646-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-5760367318677051764</id><published>2009-03-26T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T14:05:45.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People that are always happy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scvs4TBm3KI/AAAAAAAAACI/r_-weiiFPKA/s1600-h/happy_face_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scvs4TBm3KI/AAAAAAAAACI/r_-weiiFPKA/s320/happy_face_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317604236964846754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever met one of those people that is always happy, they usually have a huge grin or smile on their face and they walk around like there world is somehow different from everybody else's. What I do not get about these people is what do they have that I don't have. I mean I'm usually a really happy person but once in a while I'll get cranky and I can't hide it, but these people have never had a rainy day in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;It seems like everything is their lives is going perfect, but I bet their like a ticking time bomb, when they go off it's scary and loud! They may not get mad very often but when they do, you do not want to be around. My guess is they were slipped happy pills when they were very young and the pills just haven't warn off, but when they do KABOOOMMM!!!&lt;br /&gt;I find myself wondering if I would like to be like that, happy all the time, but then I think I would rather have my cranky moments then have a time bomb moment. But then if there weren't those really happy people who would be there to tell you everything is going to be okay, they are the people that brighten your day. They smile at you and you somehow feel like you are as happy as them, but still a little jealous that they can be so happy all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They may always be happy&lt;br /&gt;but I don't mind:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-5760367318677051764?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/5760367318677051764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-that-are-always-happy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/5760367318677051764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/5760367318677051764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-that-are-always-happy.html' title='People that are always happy!'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scvs4TBm3KI/AAAAAAAAACI/r_-weiiFPKA/s72-c/happy_face_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-6158040778258576806</id><published>2009-03-25T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T14:13:11.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you give a mouse a cookie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scow9m_TvZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/1xx2x0fij7w/s1600-h/9780060245863.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scow9m_TvZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/1xx2x0fij7w/s320/9780060245863.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317116145060527506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up with that feeling that I could use another 8 hours of sleep, but of course I can't, because once I've been woken up, I usually cannot get back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I found it really hard to get to sleep,  and the reason is quite clear, I have to sleep in total silence but Danielle's dog snores so loudly that the silence is impossible. So now I'll go about my day with my eyes drooping and my mind wondering every five seconds.&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time when my mind starts wondering I think about my future and how when I'm a little older I'll be rich and can shop whenever I like, at whatever store I like, and that is the most superficial wondering my head does. I also start to think about how I'm going to get all that money, and that leads to me thinking about what job I'm going to have, I guess my mind is like that book, "If you give a mouse a cookie", there is always a question after a question so my mind can keep wondering all day if I let it.&lt;br /&gt;People are never satisfied, you can never be happy with the last years shoes or the cheaper knock off of a purse you desperately wanted, you have to have the real thing. It would be nice if everyone could be happy with what they are given and weren't seeking something better.&lt;br /&gt;Most people are a lot like that book, there always has to be something after the cookie, may it be a question or feeling, we can just never be. We always have to know what's at the end of the rainbow and we will spend our whole lives searching for answers to something that will never be answered. But I guess life wouldn't be as fun if there weren't unsolved questions, and who would want to live in a world where everyone new everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I say If you give a mouse a cookie, he'll probably want a glass of milk!&lt;br /&gt;But I don't mind:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-6158040778258576806?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/6158040778258576806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-you-give-mouse-cookie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/6158040778258576806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/6158040778258576806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-you-give-mouse-cookie.html' title='If you give a mouse a cookie'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scow9m_TvZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/1xx2x0fij7w/s72-c/9780060245863.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2057619607390618154.post-7680597361786701842</id><published>2009-03-24T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T07:00:31.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm stuck with myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sco491EmfrI/AAAAAAAAACA/iAAlvrFGVVA/s1600-h/n504618245_815171_8801.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sco491EmfrI/AAAAAAAAACA/iAAlvrFGVVA/s320/n504618245_815171_8801.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317124944933846706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Danielle Fauve MacDonald, I'm 18 years old and the most confused person.&lt;br /&gt;I believe that the best solution to anger is ignoring everything around you, and so far it's worked out for me.&lt;br /&gt;My life long aspiration is to be truly happy, and to make everyday count because you really never know when it will be your last.&lt;br /&gt;I love smiling because I think that maybe someone can see me smile and it can brighten there day.&lt;br /&gt;Laughing is my favorite thing to do and just about anyone can make me laugh, but the thing that makes me laugh the most is seeing someone get hit in the head with a ball, as mean as that sounds.&lt;br /&gt;There are exactly two people in my life that have inspired me to make something more of myself and those people I will always keep close to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I am one of those people that is always trying to be perfect and the more I try the less I succeed, and believe me I know, know one is perfect.&lt;br /&gt;My biggest fear is spiders, and I swear if you put one on me, I will never talk to you again.&lt;br /&gt;I have commitment issues, and as much as I can blame it on my parents, I think its mostly my own fault.&lt;br /&gt;I hate having people come into my life and then the next second go out, so I am always the one to say sorry, because I have that fear that I will never see them again.&lt;br /&gt;I can pretend I am totally fine even when I'm not, so a lot of people don't see how I really feel.&lt;br /&gt;I am a shopaholic, and everyone knows it. I will shop at any store at any time, as long as its shopping I'm game.&lt;br /&gt;I love to be photographed because I find I can be myself while having my picture taken, and I love the end result. Also I want to have lots of pictures so one day I can look back at them and say "ya I was having fun and living my life".&lt;br /&gt;I have the most guilty conscious so I find it hard to do anything bad, and if I do I confess right away because I'm also a bad liar.&lt;br /&gt;I get sick to my stomach when I think about my future.&lt;br /&gt;If I could go around in my underwear and bra all day without people looking at me strange I would because I feel most comfortable that way.&lt;br /&gt;I have been in love once, and the only thing about it that I regret is pretending I wasn't. I still find it hard to be mean to that person even though they haven't been the nicest to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stuck with myself&lt;br /&gt;and I don't mind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2057619607390618154-7680597361786701842?l=imstuckwithme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/feeds/7680597361786701842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-stuck-with-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/7680597361786701842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2057619607390618154/posts/default/7680597361786701842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imstuckwithme.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-stuck-with-myself.html' title='I&apos;m stuck with myself'/><author><name>Danielle-Fauve</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Scb_Npw6LAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CJ32XfyXB4/S220/singingintherain-0055P4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_pMQiUZMD8/Sco491EmfrI/AAAAAAAAACA/iAAlvrFGVVA/s72-c/n504618245_815171_8801.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
