<?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-8777301919475635853</id><updated>2012-01-30T14:21:48.551-05:00</updated><category term='stereotypes'/><category term='Gossip'/><category term='teeth'/><category term='Invisalign'/><category term='baths'/><category term='hillary clinton'/><category term='craziness'/><category term='books'/><category term='Celebrities'/><category term='cutesy'/><category term='purpose'/><category term='Aladdin'/><category term='fairy tales'/><category term='Gwen Stefani'/><category term='boys'/><category term='Stalkers'/><category term='Tila Tequila'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='grad school'/><category term='Jamie Lynn Spears'/><category term='hair'/><category term='reality shows'/><category term='fate'/><category term='baby steps'/><category term='nose jobs'/><category term='jake gyllenhaal'/><category term='mc hammer'/><category term='girls'/><category term='movie reviews'/><category term='Cool Stuff'/><category term='high school'/><category term='WTF'/><category term='self-esteem'/><category term='tv'/><category term='parallel universe'/><category term='Letter from the Editor'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='dating'/><category term='elusiveness'/><category term='presidential election'/><category term='vegans'/><category term='relaxers'/><category term='DC'/><category term='friends'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='voting'/><category term='Reviews'/><category term='exercise'/><category term='obesity'/><category term='state of the blog'/><category term='Internet'/><category term='statement of intent'/><category term='Britney Spears'/><category term='9:30 Club'/><category term='YouTube'/><category term='mtv'/><category term='Trés Belle'/><category term='ani difranco'/><category term='life'/><category term='obama'/><category term='Enchanted'/><category term='lesbians'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='body image'/><category term='things'/><category term='eating'/><category term='religion'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='America&apos;s Next Top Model'/><category term='Faves'/><category term='men'/><category term='Englightenment'/><category term='career'/><category term='current meditations'/><category term='the sims'/><category term='FYI'/><category term='Cinderella'/><category term='vegetarian diets'/><category term='health'/><category term='PMS'/><category term='love'/><category term='writing'/><category term='Blog'/><category term='metaphysics'/><category term='morning after post'/><category term='money'/><category term='Princess Jasmine'/><title type='text'>annabelle blue</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>185</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2286260891643984642</id><published>2009-05-21T09:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T09:50:43.080-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>What do I truly want?</title><content type='html'>Torn. I'm so torn. What is it that I truly want from life, myself and my future? I've always wanted to have a job (preferably writing) that I love and to live in NYC while I'm young. I've tried SO many times and I'm not prepared to give up, but sometimes I wonder WHY. I wonder if it is what I truly want? Because I almost had it and then I let it go because it was too hard and I was too broke and too tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy in almost every way except professionally here. I love my family, friends and my boyfriend. I don't want to leave any of them, but at the same time, I know that I need to make a change. Life is short. I need to go for my dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theoretically, it shouldn't matter WHERE I am to make my dreams reality. I can stick around a little bit more, but I want the feeling I have when I wake up in the middle of the night and have no idea where my life is going to stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've sacrificed a lot for this elusive feeling of something being missing. Will it ever be stopped? Will I ever feel as though I have it all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking about celebrity. I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about something much deeper. Something deeper. Will it be found in NYC or with the perfect job? I don't know. I just know I have this urge and I don't know what to do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it? What do I truly want? What will make me truly happy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2286260891643984642?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2286260891643984642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2286260891643984642' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2286260891643984642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2286260891643984642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-do-i-truly-want.html' title='What do I truly want?'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7070673311912419401</id><published>2009-05-17T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T12:01:31.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting better . . .</title><content type='html'>My boyfriend teaches me so much. He teaches me how to be a good friend, how to love, how to not jump to conclusions and how to have patience. I love him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's never too late to become better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I think I'm getting closer to something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7070673311912419401?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7070673311912419401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7070673311912419401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7070673311912419401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7070673311912419401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-better.html' title='Getting better . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1574835617683150929</id><published>2009-05-13T09:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:51:40.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost 25</title><content type='html'>here i sit&lt;br /&gt;with the computer in front of me&lt;br /&gt;searching for the answers&lt;br /&gt;without the slightest clue how&lt;br /&gt;to get where i want to be&lt;br /&gt;i piss off everyone&lt;br /&gt;i'm never good enough&lt;br /&gt;i dwell on the negative&lt;br /&gt;and that's just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people have it easy&lt;br /&gt;but i'm not one of those&lt;br /&gt;manifest as best i can&lt;br /&gt;only to be sorrowfully &lt;br /&gt;disappointed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is this what i want?&lt;br /&gt;a second ago it was&lt;br /&gt;now that i don't have it&lt;br /&gt;i'm convinced i never did&lt;br /&gt;i'm no poet&lt;br /&gt;i'm not a great writer&lt;br /&gt;don't have the patience for much&lt;br /&gt;but i want it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be great&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be fabulous&lt;br /&gt;glamourous&lt;br /&gt;i want to have it together&lt;br /&gt;but all i keep getting is&lt;br /&gt;torn apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm happy, i think&lt;br /&gt;lots of reasons to be&lt;br /&gt;but somehow, someway&lt;br /&gt;i still feel incomplete . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1574835617683150929?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1574835617683150929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1574835617683150929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1574835617683150929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1574835617683150929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/almost-25.html' title='Almost 25'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1320431249673958505</id><published>2009-05-12T21:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:56:43.638-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='state of the blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Predictably, I have, of course, not moved forward with the new blog direction. I've been so busy and reconsidering everything altogether. With the blog, that is . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my new internship/assistantship in book publishing. I'm learning so much and it feels fun and easy to me. It's such a great feeling to be making money (however little) doing something I actually enjoy. I am going to apply to book publishing jobs in NYC in a few months. I've applied to a few literary agent jobs yesterday and haven't heard back yet. Whatevs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I wish I could say I had a set plan pertaining to what I want to do with my life. The truth is I'm just having fun and trying new things. It isn't easy, but I feel like I don't have the option to be unhappy. I kind of made a promise to myself that I'll never let myself feel defeated and helpless if I can help it . . . and usually I can. That's what life is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop talking shit about people and thinking the world is against me. I'm constantly on the defensive and it's hard to keep that act up. I don't know what is with me lately. Maybe it's the Pill, maybe it's stress and maybe it's a little bit of both. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I want to not give a shit about the scale. It sucks. I need to get to a place where I don't care. I think I don't and then I do. The up and down is enough to drive a sane girl mad. And aren't we all a little mad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1320431249673958505?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1320431249673958505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1320431249673958505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1320431249673958505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1320431249673958505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3281321418159831587</id><published>2009-04-03T11:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T11:56:22.644-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='state of the blog'/><title type='text'>State of the Blog</title><content type='html'>Dear faithful readers, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been far too long since I've written about this blog. It's such a hot mess! I guess it's following suit with my life, huh? My life has changed a lot since I started this blog and so have my career goals. I'm still in this weird space in my life and am eagerly looking forward to finally settling down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've wrote about numerous times, my dream is to start my own SUCCESSFUL digital magazine one day. I started this blog with the hopes of it being a motivation for me and giving me exposure to this world, but I haven't kept it up too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all being said, I want to start anew, but I have really liked some of the stuff I put on here. I don't want to delete EVERYTHING  from the past year and a half, but I know some of this stuff doesn't need to be here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've decided to revamp the blog and make it more of a magazine style that's accessible to everyone. Keep your eye out in the next week or so to see the new look/feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3281321418159831587?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3281321418159831587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3281321418159831587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3281321418159831587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3281321418159831587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/state-of-blog.html' title='State of the Blog'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3557169046751296896</id><published>2009-03-23T14:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T14:46:32.567-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me just get through this week!</title><content type='html'>I'm broke. Duh. What else is new? I am still looking for a job. I'm focusing on applying for grad school, but right now I'm waiting to hear back from NYU. I can't even afford to pay the application fees for all these school, so now I have to do it slooooooooowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit. I feel fat. I don't want to do anything. I'm so exhausted. I just want to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, the beautiful late March sun is in full force! That makes me happy. I can't wait for warmer weather. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Have a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3557169046751296896?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3557169046751296896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3557169046751296896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3557169046751296896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3557169046751296896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/let-me-just-get-through-this-week.html' title='Let me just get through this week!'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4650097914701068121</id><published>2009-03-14T10:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T10:10:58.414-04:00</updated><title type='text'>South Beach Diet</title><content type='html'>I did the South Beach diet when I was 19 and didn't really lose any weight, but I burned belly fat. It was awesome. I also lost 13 pounds doing Weight Watchers almost two years ago, but I've somehow gained it back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in awesome shape by working out at the gym I no longer can afford. Also, it's like 20 minutes away and that was annoying. I miss going to a gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I'm at a lost. WHat should I do to lose this extra weight? I wanna lose 20 pounds in 3 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4650097914701068121?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4650097914701068121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4650097914701068121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4650097914701068121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4650097914701068121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/south-beach-diet.html' title='South Beach Diet'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5034581162959476545</id><published>2009-03-12T21:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T21:34:32.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not feeling well.</title><content type='html'>Been fighting the flu (or what I hope is the flu) for a few days. I feel shitty. Also, my period is late. Shit. We'll see what's going on. I mean, what if I do get pregnant? What if I AM pregnant? Women do this every day. Teenagers do this and they survive. There's so much I wanna do with my life and a kid would make it harder. But I vow to be the type of mom who never gives up on her dreams and takes her kid along for the ride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I also hate scales. I hate weighing myself. I wish I could eat whatever I wanted and exercised healthily without making thing so difficult.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5034581162959476545?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5034581162959476545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5034581162959476545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5034581162959476545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5034581162959476545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/not-feeling-well.html' title='Not feeling well.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-737968483719726750</id><published>2009-03-08T14:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T14:57:10.726-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>Blah.</title><content type='html'>It seems that every March/April I start to think about how much I weigh again. I got on a scale and it was considerably more than I thought. Especially since I've been cutting back on food a lot in the past two months or so. I haven't been working out as regularly, so maybe that's why the scale isn't making me super happy right now. Whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love spring. I love that it's getting warmer and the days are longer. It makes me happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I want to stop writing for Suite101. I don't really enjoy it. I just like having my name out there and being able to say, "I write for a website." Lame, I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing more to report. I'm going to watch tv and lie down for a bit before going for a run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-737968483719726750?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/737968483719726750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=737968483719726750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/737968483719726750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/737968483719726750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/blah.html' title='Blah.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7420900238200688524</id><published>2009-02-28T09:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T09:29:06.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing to lose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Chance-Casino-Posters_i2110417_.htm?AID=423786166" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/AIM/A4900_CAT.jpg" border=0 alt="Chance Casino by Paulo Romero"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Chance Casino&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what keeps me trying and trying. I will never give up. Despite the fact that I've gotten my heart broken with rejection ONCE doing this same thing, I am here again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's like love. I got my heart broken so many times by boys and yet just when I gave up completely, something wonderful came along. Or rather, someone . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, here I am again. What the hell am I doing? What have I got to lose besides a little time and $75? I'm trying not to get attached. I will assume it's not going to happen to avoid another heartbreak. It would be far worse if I didn't try at all, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought I learned my lesson not to tell people about it, but I have. Stupid. But I'm like an open book. What have I got to hide?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7420900238200688524?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7420900238200688524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7420900238200688524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7420900238200688524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7420900238200688524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/nothing-to-lose.html' title='Nothing to lose.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-101607335105011380</id><published>2009-02-17T08:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T08:25:03.685-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Maybe it'll be better during Spring . . .</title><content type='html'>But right now, I have the undying compulsion to just run away. Where? I don't know. I'm a slave to my car note at this point. I'm just working to pay for my car and student loan debt. This is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm thinking about just sticking with this job I'm temping for until I pay off some debt and save $4000 to just get the hell out of here. It'll probably be when this fall when I'm 25, but it's better than indefinitely, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time goes by so fast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS- I woke up this morning with a comment on an article I wrote and it was positive. Just when I feel like giving up . . .these awesome things happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-101607335105011380?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/101607335105011380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=101607335105011380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/101607335105011380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/101607335105011380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/maybe-itll-be-better-during-spring.html' title='Maybe it&apos;ll be better during Spring . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5479536571989638496</id><published>2009-02-16T10:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T11:26:33.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Commitmentphobia</title><content type='html'>Over the past year and a half, my thoughts on how I'm going to make a living for myself has thought about numerous things, but I have yet to commit to a damn thing except indecision. It's time for me to just pick something and, dare I say, stick with it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Going to graduate school to study:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        - library science (called a school and tried to get all the necessary materials. contacted an old professor who told me to schedule a meeting. then didn't do it.)&lt;br /&gt;        - nonfiction writing (went to an informational session in Baltimore for Johns Hopkins)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to law school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        - Did some research. Realized it wasn't a passion and I didn't want to go through with it. Big surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Music job in NYC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        - I was so close. So, so close. You know the story. I should probably feel more heartbroken and angry. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Freelance writer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        - I go back and fourth on this one. I love writing and want to write and make a living, but I don't know if I'm cut out for it. I purchased all the books. Did all the research. Even sent out a query. I am published on the Net. People read my shit. I guess I help people. I just can't seem to make a steady income doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just getting any old job that doesn't want to make me kill myself and saving $$ for NYC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;        - I actually did this a few months after I graduated. Didn't save enough. Didn't move to NYC. Started working at 930 Club though and had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Selling an idea I have online and making enough $$ to do what I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        - I think it's a "get rich quick" scheme. I got inspired after reading "The 4-Hour Workweek". Still debating about it. I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it. My top indecisions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5479536571989638496?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5479536571989638496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5479536571989638496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5479536571989638496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5479536571989638496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/commitmentphobia.html' title='Commitmentphobia'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2676763658581472743</id><published>2009-02-08T12:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T12:57:13.650-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>First official rejection . . .</title><content type='html'>I'm used to being rejected. After being rejected most of your childhood for being fat, smart, and generally different from your peers, you realize that acceptance is sorta bullshit. Like, of course I identified with and internalized everything I was rejected for being, but I also knew it was unfair and, frankly, stupid. I realized that the basis for rejection doesn't always have anything to do with you. You can't take it personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got my first official rejection for an idea I pitched to Seventeen magazine. I sent my query a couple of weeks ago and was expecting to not hear ANYTHING back, but I just received an official rejection letter and it made me feel good because someone actually read what I wrote. Granted, they were probably a poor intern, but still. Someone is listening! And it is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;encouraging&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of writers I admire have been rejected numerous times before they've been accepted and I feel as though I'm in good company. My big break will happen. I just have to keep at it. Now I will query more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AWESOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have gotten another e-mail from someone who liked an article I wrote almost a year ago about Obama. She wants to use it in her classes that she teaches on race. Stuff like that makes me happy. At least my stuff is getting out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money will follow . . .haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2676763658581472743?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2676763658581472743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2676763658581472743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2676763658581472743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2676763658581472743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/first-official-rejection.html' title='First official rejection . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8646785740548787872</id><published>2009-02-05T07:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T08:02:59.361-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parallel universe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Parallel Universe</title><content type='html'>"I wonder&lt;br /&gt;somewhere&lt;br /&gt;in my subconscious,&lt;br /&gt;when I'm thinking about myself,&lt;br /&gt;about me&lt;br /&gt;in a parallel universe&lt;br /&gt;just maybe&lt;br /&gt;would i think&lt;br /&gt;about me&lt;br /&gt;in a parallel universe?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reading a book my co-worked lent me called, "A History of the Universe". It's a book about the universe according to the British television show about time travel called "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_Who"&gt;Doctor Who&lt;/a&gt;". It's awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm fascinated by the concept of a parallel universe. There are so many mysteries in this world and we know about .04984349489498494898% about life. There is so much more out there. Apparently, events can be different in parallel worlds, but they all started the same. It's just different choices we've made. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"In 1954, a young Princeton University doctoral candidate named Hugh Everett III came up with a radical idea: That there exist parallel universes, exactly like our ­universe. These universes are all related to ours; indeed, they branch off from ours, and our universe is branched off of others. Within these parallel universes, our wars have had different outcomes than the ones we know. Species that are extinct in our universe have evolved and adapted in others. In other universes, we humans may have become extinct." &lt;a href="http://science.howstuffworks.com/parallel-universe.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all thought about a parallel universe in some capacity. Such as what would have happened if you had gone to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; college? What would have happened if you continued dating &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; guy? What if you had reacted differently? What if your mom hadn't gone out that night and met your dad? What would her parallel universe have been like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fascinating, really. But, alas, it's meaningless because this parallel universe is the only one that matters right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8646785740548787872?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8646785740548787872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8646785740548787872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8646785740548787872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8646785740548787872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/parallel-universe.html' title='Parallel Universe'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8161180535876841573</id><published>2009-02-04T12:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:41:03.994-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ani difranco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9:30 Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Maybe it just takes me longer.</title><content type='html'>I was working at a dismal temp job yesterday and thanking the Lord that it wasn't a permanent placement. As lowly and judged I sometimes feel working at a company for short stints doing mind-numbing work, I am so glad to still have my freedom! Waking up and realizing that tonight I get to work at an awesome place with awesome people (even if I get sick of the commute and the late nights) made me happy. I don't have to go into an office and sit at a cubicle without sunlight all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got me thinking. It took me a little longer to find an AWESOME relationship with an AWESOME guy. Maybe it's just going to take me longer to find my career path. I know I'll get there one day. I can't beat myself up over it because there's no point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, I want to be making more money. True, I thought it'd be on my own financially by now, but you know what? It's okay. I'll get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my new motto? Relax. Just try my best. Take it easy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't forget to have a good time."&lt;/span&gt; - Ani DiFranco&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8161180535876841573?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8161180535876841573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8161180535876841573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8161180535876841573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8161180535876841573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/maybe-it-just-takes-me-longer.html' title='Maybe it just takes me longer.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6800772236467616393</id><published>2009-02-02T10:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T11:13:53.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions, decisions</title><content type='html'>I don't feel like writing right now. I woke up early today for no good reason. Well, I had a good reason, but then I couldn't get back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One positive aspect of waking up so early, I managed to finish reading "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Capote. I liked it. Charming, short and sweet . . .like the best things in life, I guess. We've all known a Holly Golightly. The book made me reminiscent of NYC (I'm as sick of mentioning NYC as you of reading about it!) and springtime. I've never seen the movie, but I'm thinking about it now. The book is so progressive and somewhat shocking, even now. I enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I complain and rant to people, I'm not always asking for advice. In fact, I don't like getting advice from a majority of people ESPECIALLY ABOUT MY WEIGHT OR WRITING. Both of which I feel as though I am well versed and more knowledgeable on the subjects that most I talk to. Call me stuck up and arrogant if you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I once lost 40+ pounds on my own by eating less and exercising more. I know how to do it. I am just lazy sometimes. Unless I explicitly ask for advice, just let me complain about my fat ass without you telling me what not to eat or how much more I should lose. It's rude. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, writing is a sore subject for me. I've been dealing with it my whole entire life. I have pursued and I am aware of most avenues to take. Hell, I majored in the subject in college. I have a BA in English Language and Literature. I may not know a lot about life or how to like and keep a job, but I know about writing. When I rant, please don't tell me to get a job working at a local newspaper. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am severely PMSing right now and the only things I want around me are chocolate and sunshine. My boyfriend, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6800772236467616393?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6800772236467616393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6800772236467616393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6800772236467616393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6800772236467616393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/decisions-decisions.html' title='Decisions, decisions'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-171893410732768619</id><published>2009-01-18T11:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T11:43:06.071-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Depressed.</title><content type='html'>I knew when I walked away from corporate security in September 2007 that the road ahead of me would be difficult and unpredictable. I've tried countless other day jobs since then and have felt no better than before. I've tried NYC again and, presumably, failed. I'm worn out. I'm tired. I am just so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel shallow and conflicted because I want to be making a lot more money. I NEED to be making a lot more money. As it is, I can't even afford the minimalist lifestyle I'm already living. I thought I'd have my shit together by 24. I thought I'd be independent and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like talking to anyone about it. I don't like hearing other success stories of friends and co-workers. I'm insanely jealous of people with independence and money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did I do? I trusted in this elusive concept of doing what I love and feeling happy, but it's leaving me feeling so behind, so alone and so sad. So remorseful. So lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how I'm even going to cover my bills I already have. It's maddening and scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got another writing gig which is going to get my name out there. Whether or not I'll be making any money is another story. I hope so. I'm still trying to get more writing gigs. I'm still trying to get my name out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want my own space. I want to have a job. I want to do my own grocery shopping again. I want to feel capable. I want to feel like an adult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've been bitching and complaining on this blog for the past year almost. It's strayed so much from what I wanted it to be, but it's still about me figuring out life. It's still about me figuring out who I am and , more oftentimes, who I am not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a long couple of days with Inauguration and such. Let's go OBAMA! Exciting time. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Till next time . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-171893410732768619?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/171893410732768619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=171893410732768619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/171893410732768619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/171893410732768619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/depressed.html' title='Depressed.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5822269754298232135</id><published>2009-01-14T11:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T11:33:53.891-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Writing and Me</title><content type='html'>Writing makes me happy. I'm good at it and I love doing it. I want to be a writer. Sure, I wanted to be a rock star too, but I've always wanted to write. I wanted to publish my own magazine. I want to write books. I want to write op-ed pieces. I don't want to work for anyone. I want to get my shit out there. That's what I want. That's what I live for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why is it that when given the opportunity, I'd rather watch bad reality television? I don't get it. This line of work is NOT easy because you have to do EVERYTHING. The time you spend actually writing is very little. Most of your time is spent trying to acquire writing gigs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to be in NYC. I just don't get why I didn't land this last job after two successful interviews. I have not gotten a solid "no" yet, but I heard the position was already filled. I sent an e-mail to HR and they said it is still open. I just don't get it. But the truth is, I would be using this job as a stepping stone to NYC and other things. Networking mostly. But I want it. I want NYC. I want young, motivated, trendy, fun people. I want it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I'm writing a little bit. I also plan on working out a little. Watching a little more bad reality tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5822269754298232135?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5822269754298232135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5822269754298232135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5822269754298232135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5822269754298232135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/writing-and-me.html' title='Writing and Me'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1743017708840955535</id><published>2009-01-11T10:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T13:30:13.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No NYC</title><content type='html'>So, I haven't been "denied" the job in NYC yet, but my friend that works there said they've hired someone. Technically there were two open positions, but I don't see either position listed on the website. The HR person told me a few weeks ago (after I heard the position had been filled) that they have NOT hired someone. What gives? I guess I'm moving on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I had enough money to support myself and to move out on my own. I really want to branch out and start my life as an adult. I feel stifled. I feel behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to get my writing out there and it's working, but of course not fast enough and it takes A LOT of work. I just feel like I do all this work and have nothing to show for it. I am not happy just simply working to live. It depresses me. I want to LOVE my job so much that it doesn't feel like work and I want to be paid enough to live on my own, support myself and have extra money left over to spend on things I need and want. Is that too much to ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bleh. Just bleh. I'm dealing with it, but I'm making myself crazy. I can't relax without thinking I should be doing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As such, today is no thinking about work or my future day. I'm just going to rest, eat, relax and get my mind off of that stuff. There's always tomorrow for worrying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1743017708840955535?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1743017708840955535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1743017708840955535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1743017708840955535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1743017708840955535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-nyc.html' title='No NYC'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6737989514177581182</id><published>2008-12-31T11:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:05:23.512-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, this time last year was a pretty rough time for me. Also, since it was so bad, 2008 seemed as if it would be full of new beginnings and miracles. Well, it was. Since 2008 was so awesome, I find myself being apprehensive about 2009. Like, will it live up to 2008? 2008 flew by faster than I could ever imagine, but it was full of such growth and positivity, I just wish I could have enjoyed it even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My resolutions for last year are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-become completely financially independent &lt;strong&gt;(Nope.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-finish and publish my first novel &lt;strong&gt;(LOL   . . .no way, but I did manage to get published on the Internet.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-find real love &lt;strong&gt;(Yes! I did!)&lt;/strong&gt;-travel to at least one place outside of the US (No.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-follow my dreams &lt;strong&gt;(Sorta . . .I interviewed for a job in NYC, but have yet to be offered a position. Should I wait? No idea.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-become a little more physically fit (and lose the obligatory 10 pounds) &lt;strong&gt;(Let's just say, I actually GAINED 10 pounds.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-be true to myself &lt;strong&gt;(I think I have been, for the most part. Not completely.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-get rid of some debt &lt;strong&gt;(Yes! But I acquired some, too!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did I learn? I learned A LOT about love and relationships. Mainly, how to be in one and how to love someone. It's been pretty exciting and tough. I am finally in a mature relationship with someone I love dearly. This is all so new to me, but I know I deserve it and I'm working on it everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned how to take control of things better. I learned how to communicate better. I learned not everyone has bad intentions. I learned that some people are truly good. I learned positivity is very important. I learned not to commit to something just for the money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, most importantly, I've discovered that some things in life are off the menu. You can't plan everything. For instance, look at my resolutions from last year, did I accomplish them all? Not even close. But am I SO happy and was it an UNBELIEVABLE year? Abso-fucking-lutely. :) Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2009, I want to work on balance. Balancing "me" time with life time. Taking time out to work out more, something I truly enjoy doing and feeling. I want to balance being happy with making money. I just need more balance in so many areas of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to do at least one of the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Get an awesome, fun, fulfilling and VERY-WELL PAYING job.&lt;br /&gt;-Go back to grad school for writing!&lt;br /&gt;-Have excellent credit.&lt;br /&gt;-Perform one gig singing! (Get back in touch with my creativity.)&lt;br /&gt;-Move out of my mama's house.&lt;br /&gt;-Win the lottery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things:&lt;br /&gt;I want to continue my beautiful relationship with my boyfriend. I want to continue to grow with him.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be more positive and freak out less.&lt;br /&gt;I want to continue being happy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to 2009!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6737989514177581182?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6737989514177581182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6737989514177581182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6737989514177581182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6737989514177581182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-this-time-last-year-was-pretty-rough.html' title=''/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1757877289094000014</id><published>2008-12-22T14:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:48:41.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ebs and Flows of Money and Graduation</title><content type='html'>I've been out of college for almost three years. Two and a half, really. Anyway, I realized that I was broke for the first 3-4 months after graduation. Then I got a well-paying job I despised for about 8 months and made loads of money. Afterwards, I am broke again. I've been broke for the past year and change. Most of my friends, who have either decided by this time to go grad school or get married are broke too. We're all in the same boat. It's depressing. I don't even have a career or grad school to show for my brokeassness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bleh. Just thinking about this while I work for $10/hr at a temp job that requires me to sit on my ass and answer phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so unfulfilled. This can't last. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, you know how if you keep thinking about something, it'll happen. Sort of like a self-fulfilling prohecy? Yeah. I need to stop thinking negatively. POSTIVE THINKING ONLY! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1757877289094000014?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1757877289094000014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1757877289094000014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1757877289094000014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1757877289094000014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/ebs-and-flows-of-money-and-graduation.html' title='Ebs and Flows of Money and Graduation'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6612505311731751560</id><published>2008-12-13T08:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T08:33:59.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>I have $10 in my bank account.</title><content type='html'>There, I admitted it. I am broke as a fucking joke. I have $10 in my bank account. I feel worthless, sad, and helpless. There's really nothing I can do. I'm working as much as I can. I don't get paid until next Friday, so basically, it is what it is. Accordingly, I'm planning on spending lots of time holed up at home doing nothing. What else can I do? I think I'll also use this time to work out and get in shape. Clean up a little. Maybe write? Who knows. But basically, I will be doing nothing involved money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My monitor to my laptop broke. Someone stepped on it over Thanksgiving holiday. Now I have a monitor I'm borrowing from my mom since there's NO WAY I can afford another Mac. I have the Powerbook G4 that I've had for three and a half years. I was planning on just getting another battery and uploading Mac OS XI Jaguar, but now it may not even be worth it. Oh well . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH yeah, this probably deserves it's own post altogether, but the other night I was in a very agitated mood at dinner with my boyfriend. I had just finished working at a company I'm temping for during the holidays and afterwards I sat in the car for an hour and a half to get to where he lives. I was being so bitchy. I was bitchy for so many reasons but oddly I came out and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I"m jealous of you because you can stay thin and eat whatever you want and I have to watch what I eat and I still gain weight!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I told my boyfriend that I'm jealous of him because he is very skinny and I can't even button up pants I fit into fine last year. I haven't been working out at all, really. I've been eating fries, pizza, sweets and stuff, which is usually something I try to cut back on. Basically, I've began to let myself go and I wanted to blame someone or something. I'm ridiculous sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm feeling shitty and he says he has a surprise after dinner. Turns out he had some pictures made of some pics he took of me over our summer vacation to his family's lake house. He said he needed pictures of me. He wanted to have some. I realized how much he loves me. It made me in a WAY better mood. I felt like such an idiot being so ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That guy is made of love. Why am I worried about 5 or 10 pounds and the money in my bank account? I've got him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6612505311731751560?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6612505311731751560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6612505311731751560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6612505311731751560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6612505311731751560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-have-10-in-my-bank-account.html' title='I have $10 in my bank account.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-824983395029365776</id><published>2008-12-10T09:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:15:38.608-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4-minutes to blog</title><content type='html'>So I have to go walk our dog in 4 minutes (3 minutes now), but I wanted to research some more jobs before I left. Then I got discouraged because no jobs I find seem appealing around here. The one job I want right now is in NYC and I haven't heard back about it yet, so all I have to do is wait, wait, wait. Very frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I was put on this Earth for some reason. I know I have my family and friends that I love and may make a difference to and for. I know I can be the kind stranger who smiles and helps someone to (hopefully) have a pleasant day. I know I can be the sweet and thoughtful lover to my boy and what not. but . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I can be more, too. I know I can make a difference in the whole world. I know I can make a good living. I know I can be financially independent and stable with a HAPPY, FULFILLING, DREAM JOB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish it were all so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I'll leave you with today. Gotta go walk this dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-824983395029365776?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/824983395029365776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=824983395029365776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/824983395029365776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/824983395029365776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/4-minutes-to-blog.html' title='4-minutes to blog'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1533461278613775658</id><published>2008-12-07T17:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:17:52.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fertile Land</title><content type='html'>an ex-ex-flame &lt;br /&gt;of the unrequited nature&lt;br /&gt;keeps burning into my reality&lt;br /&gt;much to my dismay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to escape this dismay&lt;br /&gt;i dive into the heat&lt;br /&gt;and think that maybe&lt;br /&gt;it can teach me a thing or two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(about making right decisions&lt;br /&gt;and sticktoitivenessd. . .minus me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we had fun and i cried&lt;br /&gt;i burned for someone&lt;br /&gt;who couldn't even light for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so as the blaze simmers down&lt;br /&gt;i wave goodbye to her&lt;br /&gt;i knew her well, but he's long gone&lt;br /&gt;the fire gave way to&lt;br /&gt;fertile land&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1533461278613775658?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1533461278613775658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1533461278613775658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1533461278613775658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1533461278613775658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/fertile-land.html' title='Fertile Land'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-479903480703729616</id><published>2008-11-20T20:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T20:58:28.247-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been in a lazy mood.</title><content type='html'>Hi beautiful people,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing to you from my bed. I have been in and out of it since about one or two this afternoon. I've been spending most of my time watching "Doctor Who". I am addicted to it thanks to the boy. He let me borrow one series (or season in the States) of it that he got from his first mate. It's a British television show about time travel. It's really adventurous, campy, and smart. I miss London. My adventures there (about three years ago now!) were timeless. I still wear a lot of the clothes I bought while I was there. I always have a part of that place with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a little lazy lately. I have been working out somewhat regularly and trying not to be too much of a pig, but other than that, I've been more than happy to sit on my ass watching television. I'm not even reading that much right now. I just don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still on the hunt for a part-time or full-time job to supplement my income. Mainly just to pay bills. I have no interest in starting a "career" here. After interviewing for the job in NYC (which I still haven't heard back from!I might not until after the Holidays!), I realize how badly I want to work there. I really want to work more in the music industry. I will always have writing, you know? I don't know. Talking to some of my friends who aren't broke, who are advancing in their careers and what not, makes me feel really shitty. Envious, even. I wish I was financially in great shape to buy "extras" and to comfortably cover my overhead at the least. I don't even have that. I mean, I'm happy. I love my part-time job I have no at the Club, but it just ain't paying the bills. Why does this have to be so hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can justify sitting on my ass and playing on my computer because I'm not spending any money. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I spent some time at the library doing research. I had an epiphany. It's this weird energy that I get when I'm there amongst books sometimes. It's like they are things that people have filled with special thoughts and information that they want the world to see and it affects me. I know I sound like a looney chick, but I just get positive energy from libraries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY- so here's what I jotted down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have this baby inside of me that has been waiting to be birthed for some time. Before I wanted to be a famous rockstar even. (I've always thought performing on stage is my dream, and I still do, but I haven't done so in YEARS!) I want to represent women and girls, give them hope, let them love themselves, live better lives. I can't explain it. I see it. I feel it. I just need it to come to fruition. I'm open and I recieve it. 11/19/08"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah. It sucks not knowing the next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to continue watching "Doctor Who". Until next time  . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-479903480703729616?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/479903480703729616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=479903480703729616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/479903480703729616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/479903480703729616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/ive-been-in-lazy-mood.html' title='I&apos;ve been in a lazy mood.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3479901059749141912</id><published>2008-11-16T22:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T22:24:45.703-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mtv'/><title type='text'>RIP TRL</title><content type='html'>So I just watched over 2 hrs of MTV (something I haven't done in a very long time), more specifically, of TRL (something I haven't done in an even LONGER time). I remember the first episode when I was in high school. I remember the mom and dad of the show MTV Live and Total Request.  It started the careers of so many big-name artists of today. I'm getting a little sad watching the end.  Who'd have thunk it??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have been watching &lt;a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/"&gt;Doctor Who&lt;/a&gt; all day. My boyfriend lent me Season 2 on DVD and I'm hooked. So good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I need money like WHOA. Ugh. Story of my life . . . Everything will be alright, I'm sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eminem on TRL with Carson Daly? Hello 2000! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a lovely, lazy Sunday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3479901059749141912?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3479901059749141912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3479901059749141912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3479901059749141912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3479901059749141912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/rip-trl.html' title='RIP TRL'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-984949649937640429</id><published>2008-11-15T21:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T22:48:40.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Past-life regression</title><content type='html'>Sometimes my past comes back to haunt me for inexplicable reasons. Past friendships, relationships, hurt, experiences, feelings, etc. etc. It's bizarre because the past exists only in my mind and everything I feel when  think of the past is just based on an illusion. It's easy to re-imagine the past and let go, and I think I've done it for the most part, but sometimes it just comes back when I let my guard down. And I don't like it one bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even writing this right now is not doing me any good, really. I was about to write about a bunch of things that keep popping in my head, but the idea of writing it all down kind of makes me depressed. It's giving life to these thoughts and memories that I need to let go of. So here I am . . .letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what positive thoughts and energy can do. Truly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-984949649937640429?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/984949649937640429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=984949649937640429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/984949649937640429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/984949649937640429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/past-life-regression.html' title='Past-life regression'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6888305136845929637</id><published>2008-11-10T10:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:31:12.957-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Like me for me</title><content type='html'>In a lot of romantic relationships I've been in, and even platonic relationships, I've gotten the feeling that the other person has wanted to change something about me. I've felt like I had to do some convincing of some sort for that person to want to be with me, even as a friend. In my truest and most comfortable relationships, that's not the case. In those awesome relationships, I feel as though I can just be myself, whoever that person may be at any given time. I can be neurotic, dorky, sleepy, moody or whatever, because guess what? That's me sometimes. No pretenses. No judgements. Just plain ol' me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it's occurred to me that this could all just be in my head. Maybe no one feels these certain ways about me. Maybe I'm putting all this undue pressure on myself for some unknown reason. I want to get to the point where I can just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are changes being discussed in my current romantic relationship and it's to the point where I have to "sell" my partner on a certain idea or dream for him (or for me?). I feel very uncomfortable doing this because it doesn't seem right. He should want something for himself. Anyway, I've been there before. I've been in such unhealthy, hurtful relationships that made me feel as though I wasn't good enough because the other person didn't feel a certain way. I've thought, "Maybe if I was less this, he'd be more into me. Maybe if I was more like this, he'd be sure of things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of trying to convince people to do things. Right now I'm waiting to get a job offer and it's tiresome waiting for their decision. I just want to be accepted for who I am. I'm tired of convincing people of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I did yoga yesterday for the first time in months. I also had amazing workouts for a few days in a row and I'm feeling so much better about myself. I need more yoga in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6888305136845929637?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6888305136845929637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6888305136845929637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6888305136845929637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6888305136845929637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/like-me-for-me.html' title='Like me for me'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3489674179813609974</id><published>2008-11-08T16:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:09:20.258-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='presidential election'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Real Housewives of Atlanta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, as the title suggests, this post is primarily going to be about &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/Real_Housewives_Of_Atlanta/season/1/index.php"&gt;The Real Housewives of Atlanta&lt;/a&gt;. But, before I get there, here's a few other things I've been wanting to blog about for sometime . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;To start off, my freaking laptop battery has the shortest life ever. I've had my Apple PowerBook for over three years, so maybe it's time for a little tune up. I don't even know what that requires. I'm going to do some research and maybe add that to my Christmas List this year. I also need another iPod as my sound is completely out on the right side. This never happened with my other  iPods. I like the new colorful Nanos. I like the purple one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;img src="http://a248.e.akamai.net/7/248/2041/1471/store.apple.com/Catalog/regional/amr/nano/img/nano-purple.jpg" alt="&lt;span class=" error="" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm still waiting to hear back about the fantastic job in NYC. I'm getting nervous and I'm even getting a little weird about blogging about it until it's a reality. Don't wanna jinx anything. I'm beginning to lose hope . . .not good. Also, I'm selling my car. I just can't afford the payments any more. So basically, I have to get this job in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so back to the original purpose of my blog. Have you SEEN this season of The Real Housewives? Now, I loved me some Real Housewives of NYC more than the OC one because I felt like I could relate a little more to the East Coast chicks. NOW THERE ARE BLACK PEOPLE ON BRAVO and I'm like, WHOA! I can relate even more. Well, not really. I'm not a housewife. I'm not in my 30s or 40s. (Well, "Housewife" Kim is apparently 29?????) I'm not rich. So really all I have in common with these women (except Kim) is the melanin in my skin. Oh well. Anyway, I love this. The cattiness. It's out of control amazing TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="image"&gt;&lt;a class="hard_shadow" href="http://www.bravotv.com/Real_Housewives_Of_Atlanta/season/1/games/quiz/index.php"&gt;&lt;img alt="Which Housewife Are You?" src="http://www.bravotv.com/Real_Housewives_Of_Atlanta/season/1/_images/home/feature_quiz_105.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="image"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="image"&gt;My feelings about each housewife will be in the corresponding font color of the dress that the are wearing in this photo. (I'm going to have to do something special for Lisa and Sheree since they are wearing the same color though.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;NENE- So, Anderson Cooper likes her breasts! Ha, they are a bit out of control, but Nene is fabulous. She's opinionated, funny and I think she's a great friend. Her drunken song about Kim's singing abilities (or lack thereof ) and true age was funny and quite true. Not the nicest thing to do, but there was nothing horrible about it. Also, she's obviously hurt because Kim has betrayed her friendship by siding with Sheree. Nene's family issues make her real and relatable. She is a good mom and is involved. She's my favorite housewife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DaShawn- She is so sweet! Her voice is a little nasally for my tastes, but she seems innocent, kind-hearted and positive. I like her. Nothing else really going on with  her. Except maybe she's a little spoiled as evidenced by her hiring so much "help" for her "estate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Lisa- Lisa is all about BUSINESS and she'll tell  you that about five times throughout each episode. She's always networking, coming up with business strategies and having classy gatherings at her home.But, hey! At least the girl WORKS! Unlike most of these other chicks. But she's one dimensional. There's nothing to latch on to. She needs to give us more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;Sheree- Well, Sheree gets one of the ugliest colors because . . .well, if you saw the show you'd know why. She sucks. She's sort of a bitch and not because she's so beautiful . . .but because she's so cold and bitchy. She's probably gotten all she wanted from people, but she's missing something. I can't get all deep on this because I don't even know her, but I'm sick of her claiming every one's a "hater." She claims that she has it all and that Nene is jealous and unhappy inside. Honey, look in the mirror. At least her children seem very sweet and maybe there's still hope for them! And her friendship with Kim? Uhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Kim- So I saved the best for last. Kim is a divorced chain-smoker who has botox every six months, with two daughters and an elusive rich boyfriend named Big Poppa who buys her anything she wants, including studio time with producer Dallas Austin. YUP! I can't hate on her. I'd love to be a singer too and I think it's great she's going for her dreams. She is also a sweet person, it seems. She is trusting of everyone and pretty naive. She is TOTALLY being manipulated by Sheree. She's a little narcissistic and self-involved, too. That being said, I don't hate her. I just think she looks WAY older than 29 and should pay more attention to her children. She should also stop chain smoking, but also in front of them. Also, she should get a job or a passion instead of letting a man pay for everything. He owns a part of her. If he decides to leave her, what else will she have? It's not teaching her children much. That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font color="white"&gt;So enough of my delicious gossiping. I'm done. It's just fun to indulge every once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, America has a new President who is intelligent, diplomatic and charismatic. I'm truly so glad this election is over and I'm also glad I didn't blog about it. I did enough reading and talking about it to last a lifetime. Hurray for Senator Obama and hurray for the USA. FINALLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3489674179813609974?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3489674179813609974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3489674179813609974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3489674179813609974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3489674179813609974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/real-housewives-of-atlanta.html' title='Real Housewives of Atlanta'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7039100757117113587</id><published>2008-10-13T10:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T11:01:55.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a headache . . .</title><content type='html'>I gave up coffee last week. It's actually not all that hard to avoid it, but I definitely miss the warm cup in my hand in the morning, especially now that the mornings are getting colder. I'm not giving it up forever, but I just wanted to take a break from it. I decided to go the extra mile and give up ALL caffeine. Yikes, I didn't realize how much caffeine I drank until I gave it up. I sleep better at night, that's for sure. I get really tired around 9 or 10pm though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking of trying tea as an alternative, but I figure I can give my teeth a break from being stained if I avoid warm, dark beverages all together. So no dark teas for me. I had mint tea the other morning and that was pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't enjoy green tea, no matter how good it is for me. I used to be able to drink it just because it's supposed to be so healthy and good for me,  but one day I realized I just didn't even like it. It's sort of the same thing that happened with plum tomatoes and croutons in salad for me. I just got used to eating it, but didn't truly WANT it. So I stopped eating them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else in my life do I do "just because" without thinking about it and that I don't truly need? What else could I use a break from?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7039100757117113587?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7039100757117113587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7039100757117113587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7039100757117113587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7039100757117113587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-have-headache.html' title='I have a headache . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4990707506607725439</id><published>2008-10-10T21:29:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:33:27.948-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>What I've Learned About Love 10/10/08 . . .</title><content type='html'>Love has taught me that not everyone has bad ulterior motives. Not everything is from a bad place. Love is not always critical. My boy is not from a bad place. He's so good, so positive, so optimistic. It's beautiful and is teaching me so much about mankind and myself. I'm growing all the time. I'm trying. I love him and our love is something I am so thankful I've been able to experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only one I'm fighting in this relationship is myself and it's weird for me. I keep looking for a fight, but there just isn't one there. It breaks my heart that I could scar him in any way or hurt him. I want to be good, if only for him. If only to preserve his goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats what I've learned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4990707506607725439?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4990707506607725439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4990707506607725439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4990707506607725439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4990707506607725439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-ive-learned-about-love-101008.html' title='What I&apos;ve Learned About Love 10/10/08 . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1595613162090717829</id><published>2008-09-13T23:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T23:12:19.832-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>What a difference a week makes . . .</title><content type='html'>Things are infinitely better today than they were last weekend. I have gone a terrific job interview and I am in talks for another amazing job in NYC that I want so badly it hurts. Life is looking so much better for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I still have issues. I love my boyfriend so much and so badly that it frightens me (I don't want to end it with him). I have gained about 5-10 pounds in the past 5 months. I am still in debt. I need braces. I can't get to the gym when I want. It's endless . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I feel so much better right now. More in control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1595613162090717829?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1595613162090717829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1595613162090717829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1595613162090717829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1595613162090717829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-difference-week-makes.html' title='What a difference a week makes . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7382457476629099028</id><published>2008-09-07T19:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T19:59:35.990-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Annabelle Blue feeling a little blue . . .PART 2</title><content type='html'>I am really getting sick of working at the Club. Seriously. Driving all the way down there is not fun anymore. I like what I'm doing now at the Club and working less there, so that's good. I just have no desire to get all wrapped up in it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am embarrassed about only working there right now. People think I don't know what I'm doing with my life and it's true. It makes me feel like utter shit that people think I'm so lost and sad because I'm not making lots of money and super "successful" in whatever sense of the word they use to define it. It makes me wanna cry and if I knew what to do to prove them wrong and still be HAPPY with myself, my God, I'd be all about it . . .but I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of embarrassed around my boyfriend's family because I know how they feel about his career choice and life right now . . .and I'm at the same place he is. I know they like me, but I can't help but get upset at what they might think about my aimlessness in life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have something else that is sort of unrelated that has been picking at my brain, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SO STRESSED RIGHT NOW! Godddddddddddddddd. I hate feeling this way. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7382457476629099028?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7382457476629099028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7382457476629099028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7382457476629099028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7382457476629099028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/annabelle-blue-feeling-little-blue-part.html' title='Annabelle Blue feeling a little blue . . .PART 2'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5830906025159418087</id><published>2008-09-07T19:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T19:43:47.661-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Annabelle Blue is feeling a little blue . . .</title><content type='html'>Hi faithful readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm feeling extremely shitty about things right now. Really. It's been a year since I quit my solid (and grossly unsatisfying) 9 to 5(:30) gig in search of myself, what I truly wanted and freedom. I am WORLDS happier than I was then, but sadly, I've come upon the realization that I'm just as lost. And still pretty confused. Oh yeah, and very, very broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guy's birthday is Wednesday and I want to do something very special because this is an important birthday for him and guess what? I'm broke. I can't afford the things I want to do. He just moved back home with his parents and I'm living at home right now, too, so things are just rough and awkward and hard. Just plain and simply, things are harder and more difficult. (If you know what I'm saying . . .) We live so far away from each other and seeing each other requires spending money on gas, usually food and other things. A lot of times neither of us wants to make the drive and when we end up meeting somewhere to hang out we're usually at a loss about what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's going through a roughish time right now with figuring out what he wants to do, too. It just can't work with both of us in the same rut. Or maybe it can? I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him, I truly do, and it's very hard to imagine that maybe if I wasn't in a relationship, I'd be more gung-ho about moving away, chasing whatever dreams I have and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He makes me so happy and I don't want to lose him. But, I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore. Every fucking job I get and apply for makes me unhappy. The only satisfying thing about them is that I'd be making more money and I'd be able to move out. Forget about the bills upon bills that I need to pay. Never mind the fact that I don't really want to live in DC for another two years while I go to grad school here. I love working at the Club I work at, but it's by no means a career and I can't even SUPPORT myself as-is by working there. I just don't know anymore . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still want to live in NYC. I don't know about going to school there, but it is a dream I've had. I love NYC and want to get there. If I could find a job there that I like, who's to say I shouldn't go there? Try it again. Although I still have doubts about that as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And grad school . . .&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;? Will that help me? I want to do it, but at this point, it's financially stupid. Especially without the guarantee that I won't be at the same place I am now. And what am I going to do while I'm working on school. I can't live at home and go to school. I'll have to work full-time again to support myself. And what about my relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply put: I have no idea what to do. I'm looking for jobs left and right. I'm applying to a grad school program in Washington, DC. I'm hoping to move out by November. I've got lots of debt (student loan debt, medical bills, car, bills from my LAST apartment). My credit is shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I just need help. I need guidance. I need money. I need a career. I hate being so needy, but I am right now. Maybe putting this all out in the Universe will help somehow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5830906025159418087?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5830906025159418087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5830906025159418087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5830906025159418087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5830906025159418087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/annabelle-blue-is-feeling-little-blue.html' title='Annabelle Blue is feeling a little blue . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6451696972608078069</id><published>2008-08-02T15:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T15:16:09.852-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Checking In . . .</title><content type='html'>So it's around 3:00pm on a Saturday which I still find myself in bed. I didn't get home from work until 2am last night and had another late night the night before, too. It's weird how one night of work until 2 or 3 can mess me up for about two days afterwards. My sleep/energy level is so particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my only mission was to hang out with one of my friends and write an article. So far I've got none of those things accomplished. I was on the phone talking to a few friends for a couple of hours, went to the bank and took a nap. Now I'm going to try to eat a little lunch and write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until my contract is up with Verizon and I get a new phone. I'm looking at the &lt;a href="http://reviews.cnet.com/cell-phones/samsung-glyde-sch-u940/4505-6454_7-32987449.html"&gt;Samsung Glide.&lt;/a&gt; I want a Qwerty keyboard really bad.  I'm also looking at the LG Voyager. I love LGs. They're awesome phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I am still job hunting. I think I'm going to FINALLY get around the dream board I've been meaning to create for months. It's been so long since I had a low-key Saturday alone. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Till next time . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6451696972608078069?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6451696972608078069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6451696972608078069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6451696972608078069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6451696972608078069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-checking-in.html' title='Just Checking In . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4896333440158639994</id><published>2008-07-26T00:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T00:56:22.377-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wanna start a magazine for girls and women to read and not feel bad about themselves. i don't want it to be all about sex, starving yourself and buying shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want it to be something i woul dlike to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want my readers to feel like they have to change themselves. basically, i want an "o" magazine for younger people like me. to inspire. to help. to enhance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something i wish i could have read or still read even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know what makes me happiest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4896333440158639994?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4896333440158639994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4896333440158639994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4896333440158639994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4896333440158639994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-wanna-start-magazine-for-girls-and.html' title=''/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-9034822211846573113</id><published>2008-07-21T15:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T16:17:18.138-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a crackhead's opinion of my blackness</title><content type='html'>The other night as I was walking outside of 9:30 Club on the night of the George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic show, a crackhead proclaimed the following after hearing me talking with my co-worker:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"SHE TALK WHITE!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said so in a very, very, disgusted tone. I kinda laughed to myself and stopped talking to see if I had heard correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She talk white! You heard me! She sound white!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-worker and I shared a laugh. "Don't listen to that guy," my black co-worker advised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I don't care. It's whatever. It's funny because . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're better than him. He's ignorant," my co-worker continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's not even that," I replied. Truthfully, it's not anything new. It's not earth-shattering news to me that some random crackhead (and many others) may think I talk white. If this were back in middle school, I'd have internalized it and made myself feel shitty and not good enough over it, but I'm 24 now and I truly, honestly, positively, don't give a shit anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like people who have a problem with who I date. Does dating a white guy make me, by default, hate black guys? Am I a race traitor? I can understand the jealousy that might come from black guys since I'm dating someone else (who just happens to be a skinny white kid) but I don't think it should mean I'm any less black in their eyes. That's what bothers me more than anything else, I guess. But I don't let my blackness define who I am in any way. I am nothing and everything. I am just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So shall I not enunciate properly and throw more slang into my vocabulary? Shall I mix up the tenses of my speech a little bit and inflict a "black" tone? That will surely mean that I'm black, I'm sure. Because it's very important to be black. Then maybe I can get a pass for my other indiscretions such as liking people for much more than the color of their skin and not caring who they are banging in their bedroom or laughing with on the street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-9034822211846573113?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9034822211846573113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=9034822211846573113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9034822211846573113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9034822211846573113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/crackheads-opinion-of-my-blackness.html' title='a crackhead&apos;s opinion of my blackness'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6240198583613310476</id><published>2008-07-20T21:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T22:02:40.857-04:00</updated><title type='text'>why so serious?</title><content type='html'>i had such a great weekend. i worked, i relaxed, i ate, i loved, i visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so "The Dark Knight" was awesome. see it. watching Heath on screen was sad because he can never reprise his role. it's SO sad. it was like seeing a ghost. i'm not one for writing reviews, so i won't write one, but i can say that i loved it and will probably see it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm heavily researching grad schools again. i've got a lot of decisions to make, but i'm making one very soon. i can't take it any longer. &lt;a href="http://creative-writing-mfa-handbook.blogspot.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; blog is making it even harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also looking for full-time jobs very intently so that i can become an adult and move the fuck out. and probably sell my lovely car so that i can save money and pay some bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to keep it positive as usual. it's easier said than done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next time . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6240198583613310476?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6240198583613310476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6240198583613310476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6240198583613310476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6240198583613310476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-so-serious.html' title='why so serious?'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8244499999812991369</id><published>2008-07-16T15:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T15:41:05.189-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gossip'/><title type='text'>gossip and other less likeable traits</title><content type='html'>i hate gossip and yet somehow i'm always involved in it. i do it without thinking and sometimes without even knowing what i'm doing is qualified as "gossip." i also have a problem with opening my mouth at times when other more evolved people might keep their mouths closed. i have never been good at keeping shit to myself . . .or being the cute quiet girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow people always feel comfortable with confronting me instead of other people when it comes to stuff like that because i guess i give off the sensitive, apologetic doormat vibe or something. it makes me a nervous wreck and really sick to think i'm the very thing i hate in other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also trying to be less self-aware and apologetic, traits which i've been accused of by more than one person in recent times. hello, this blog is riddled with my overanalyzing of every-fucking-thing. that's what i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;along with my acute hypochondria which has also been passed down the line by the women of my family, i'm a "hot mess." and yet somehow people still like me. somehow i still have friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one's perfect. everyone has their thing. i just hate feeling like i've always done something wrong. the guilt in itself makes me feel guilty for having it. my head isn't so pretty on the inside sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i've given up gossip blogs. too much negative karma. i'm also going to work on being positive. time to focus on me again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8244499999812991369?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8244499999812991369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8244499999812991369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8244499999812991369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8244499999812991369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/gossip-and-other-less-likeable-traits.html' title='gossip and other less likeable traits'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5468356722362042084</id><published>2008-07-16T13:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T13:30:38.045-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's play pretend . . .</title><content type='html'>Is everyone just pretending?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5468356722362042084?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5468356722362042084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5468356722362042084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5468356722362042084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5468356722362042084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/lets-play-pretend.html' title='Let&apos;s play pretend . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1748826095136450201</id><published>2008-07-12T06:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T06:37:01.019-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>This is all way too personal . . .but personally I don't care.</title><content type='html'>I find myself wanting to write about things that are way too personal on this blog. I could just write it in a notebook for no one to see, but somehow, and for some unknown reason to me, I feel compelled to write for all to see. I feel the need to get it out there . . .for better or worse. Truthfully, I could say anything about myself because I don't care what anyone reading this thinks of ME. My loyal readers have seen me at my worst. This blog is about me figuring stuff out professionally, personally, financially, mentally, etc. so doing that I could write whatever I want and justify it somehow. For what sake . . .I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, what about me wanting to blog about other people? And what do I do when/if those other happen to stumble about this and knows it's MY blog? What if I hurt them with how I think? Who knows how this could get in their hands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I think one of my friends has an eating disorder. I believe she had one a year or  so ago and I never confronted her then. I tried to confront her last night, but I felt GUILTY and WEIRD about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be really thin like her sometimes. Everyone thinks she's "so pretty" and she gets far more attention from boys than me. Of course, the guys she gets attention from are generally guys I wouldn't want attention from. And I can't force a guy to be interested in/attracted to me if they're not, so what's the point. There have been times when we've gone out and a guy I WAS attracted to was obviously in to her, but I have a healthy attitude toward it all. It doesn't REALLY bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So by me confronting her, I feel weird. When we go out and she eats nothing but lettuce and a little bit of oil and gets a calorie free drink at Starbucks, which is her right and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;perrogative&lt;/span&gt;, while I get a bacon and cheese topped chicken sandwich with bread (and fruit instead of fries) and a cup of coffee with skim milk . . .I wish I could be healthier. I wish I could CARE more about being skinny, but I don't and in some sick way, I'm jealous that she the willpower and the desire to be really thin. And I feel horrible about feeling that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know she's not happy. I want her to be happy. I know enough about eating disorders to know that it isn't about food or body image. It's about something else. She admits she has "nothing better to do" than diet and exercise. She, at one point, was going to the gym TWICE a day. In the morning and after work. That isn't healthy and even she knows that. She doesn't have a boyfriend to occupy her time, she says, so this is it. She can rationalize it that way and it's hard for me to disagree with her, but I just KNOW it isn't right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't know what to do. I'm worried, but sometimes I worry that I'm worried for the right reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1748826095136450201?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1748826095136450201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1748826095136450201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1748826095136450201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1748826095136450201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-all-way-too-personal-but.html' title='This is all way too personal . . .but personally I don&apos;t care.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2390438981093588901</id><published>2008-07-07T03:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T03:38:02.659-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='current meditations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><title type='text'>my current meditation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;just because i'm happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doesn't mean i don't grimace at certain photos of myself,&lt;br /&gt;am not extremely sensitive to people's opinion of me,&lt;br /&gt;wonder if my significant other might want another,&lt;br /&gt;get annoyed by my own actions and reactions,&lt;br /&gt;have anxiety about what i'm (not) doing with my life,&lt;br /&gt;find myself inexplicably depressed&lt;br /&gt;want to be all alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because happines isn't an emotion,&lt;br /&gt;it's just what i am&lt;br /&gt;it cannot be altered by a passing thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2390438981093588901?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2390438981093588901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2390438981093588901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2390438981093588901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2390438981093588901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-current-meditation.html' title='my current meditation'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5925318774848038119</id><published>2008-06-24T22:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T23:04:33.338-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>"She's Come Undone"</title><content type='html'>Just finished Wally Lamb's masterpiece "She's Come Undone" for the second time since I was fifteen or sixteen years old. It has touched me in places I've forgotten and that are pretty painful to revisit. The optimism and positivity that ends this book is more powerful to me than I remember it being. I've gotten so much more out of this than I did then, but that's not to say that it didn't deeply affect me as a teenager because it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the title of the book always signified doom and gloom to me until this reading. The whole book is about all these terrible experiences that Dolores Price (the protagonist) goes though and yet the ending is so uplifting.&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; I can relate more than I understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The title is misleading . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Undone,'&lt;/span&gt; I write in the journal- stare at the words, turn it over. Jack Speight undid me, then I almost undid myself. But I've undone some of the bad, too, some of the damage. With help. With luck and love  . . ."(page 463)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Mr. Pucci's last revelation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People waste their happiness - that's what makes me sad. Everyone's so scared to be happy." (page 456)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself afraid of happiness all the time. I feel bad about enjoying myself. I feel guilty about being selfish. I feel guilty for being really happy. I sometimes create my own drama and difficulty. I'm afraid of stability. I'm learning though. I'm becoming undone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Positivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5925318774848038119?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5925318774848038119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5925318774848038119' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5925318774848038119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5925318774848038119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/shes-come-undone.html' title='&quot;She&apos;s Come Undone&quot;'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3410584192631033455</id><published>2008-06-19T17:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T18:03:45.493-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>Full</title><content type='html'>My boyfriend is always telling me how refreshing it is that I eat. Like it's something unique that not many women do. It makes me happy that he likes how I stuff my face around him. He thinks having an appetite is sexy. He thinks watching me eat is sexy. It's hot to him. He likes it. He thinks I'm sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'd have ever thought the bigger girl, the chubby girl, the "fat" girl would be such a turn on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's always hungry and eats more than anyone I know . . .and he's skinnier than anyone I know. It's refreshing to be around him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not the first guy who has thought eating was good, that I was good, that they thought I was fine the way I am . . .but he actually LIKES it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes that I don't really care about my body being perfect, but at the same time, I'm healthy. I workout. I try not to eat too horribly. I care about being healthy, not about being skinny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell him I'd rather be 10-20 pounds overweight, happy and showing signs of having indulged in good food and a good life than be super skinny and starved . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm full of a lot of different things, depending on who you ask. But, I'm full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't have to be all little and petite to be beautiful," he says. And I'm not, but I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always remember his words and tell girls (and my future daughter down the road) about what he thinks when they ask about attracting a boy. I'll tell them what it's about. About being happy in their own skin. About not living up to some ridiculous ideal of beauty that floats around like an airborne sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm full.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3410584192631033455?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3410584192631033455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3410584192631033455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3410584192631033455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3410584192631033455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/full.html' title='Full'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4976927539126843209</id><published>2008-06-17T02:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T02:32:29.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>24</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep. I fell asleep watching earlier "Sideways" tonight and now I can't return to sleep. It sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been thinking about life a lot since I turned a year older a couple of days ago. 24 feels womanly. It feels whole. Complete. Old, but nice. 23 was a GREAT age, but 24 is feeling pretty sweet, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to write some deep, philosophical essay right now, but I'm re-reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She's Come Undone&lt;/span&gt; by Wally Lamb again and it's calling me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live. Laugh. Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4976927539126843209?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4976927539126843209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4976927539126843209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4976927539126843209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4976927539126843209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/24.html' title='24'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7034319241459144166</id><published>2008-06-12T23:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T23:25:47.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting older</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here with acne cream smeared across my itchy, breakout-prone skin and thinking . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother turned 50 a few days ago and told me that she hasn't had her period since January. I couldn't find a joke in it except to say, "Aw, no more little brothers or sisters." To which she smiled and laughed. No, no more. She is getting older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I notice the squinting lines around her eyes and the frown marks on her forehead that won 't go away. When did all of this happen? Her mortality is forcing a previously undiscovered grossly unselfish side of me to emerge. I want to be nice. I want to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me, I'll be 24 in a few days. Nowhere where I thought I'd be at this age and yet somehow I never thought I'd be anywhere. My body's changing, too. My hands seem more weathered. My body more like a woman . . .eagerly anticipating the motherhood that awaits somewhere in between "not for a very long time" and "being a youngish mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a gray hair, definitely not my first, but not any less alarming. I stared at the gray root that grew into black. I stared for a good minute or so at the lonely hair in my hand and realized time goes by. This hair follicule will never grow my natural black hair again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've had acne since I was 14 or 15. Nearly a decade I've dealt with it. A sign of youth, but my mother still breaks out. Hormones, they say. It's strange, looking at the Mom Mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got my first period, she was closing in on her baby-making years. She's finished her last period and I'm closing in on the baby-making years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The timing is timeless. It happens all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And twice today, women named Adrienne were mothers. Once on a soap and once in a book . . .right when I was thinking of one day becoming a mom. Weird timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no way to end this entry except to say I hope I don't get a pimple this weekend! It's going to be very high-profile one for me. I turn 24 on Sunday! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7034319241459144166?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7034319241459144166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7034319241459144166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7034319241459144166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7034319241459144166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/getting-older.html' title='Getting older'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4910431531959960256</id><published>2008-06-08T00:09:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T00:28:26.821-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex and the City sucked.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SEtdAndxutI/AAAAAAAAAI0/TPkqjdfdjGs/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SEtdAndxutI/AAAAAAAAAI0/TPkqjdfdjGs/s320/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209359659159370450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                      (This is essentially what I would like to do to the producers of this movie.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There's no easy way to put it. I feel like I've been had. The movie &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1000774/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sex and the City&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; sucked. The television series didn't suck, but the movie absolutely sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to the real, intelligent, and genuinely FUNNY writing? What happened to the fucking &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;storylines&lt;/span&gt;, for goodness sakes? This movie was just AWFUL. Like an insult to the viewers intelligence kind of awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I even begin? Oh, I know. With Carrie and Big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How UNCHARACTERISTIC and RIDICULOUS was it that Big started having such HUGE doubts after Miranda's comment? We did see him a little stressed prior, but how can her comment really affect him that much? This is BIG we're talking about. I liked the expansion of his internal dialogue, specifically him in the car on the way to the wedding, but it was more like too little, too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe Carrie WANTED that big wedding? I know she was being "swayed" by her friends about a big wedding . . .and was she "losing" herself? Do we ever know what really happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm writing this, I realize the reason why I don't feel so complete and good after seeing it? Where's the nice little bow that ties all the stories together? Where is her article? What is going on? "Finding love . . ." but I thought she was writing a book on what to do with love once you've already found it? I am so confused!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so moving on. CHARLOTTE AND HARRY. So boring. So nothing. So dumb. So minor. So uninteresting. So fucking random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEVE AND MIRANDA. Oh, my. WHY DO WE NEVER KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP? Okay, Miranda is stressed out, short on time, blahblahblah. It's such bullshit. I'd like to see more of what happened between them than a brief dinner scene at the beginning of the movie. What a sloppy storyline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAMANTHA AND SMITH. Okay, a tad bit more believable and true to SATC. Probably the most realistic storyline. OH. What about Samantha crying when Carrie tried on the Vivienne Westwood gown? HAHAHAHA. So fake and out of character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I think the movie was thrown together hastily and sloppily. Very poor writing. Kinda shitty acting. So disappointing that I had to write about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm off to bed and waking up early to make a 50th birthday breakfast for my Mom tomorrow morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/8777301919475635853-4910431531959960256?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4910431531959960256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4910431531959960256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4910431531959960256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4910431531959960256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/sex-and-city-sucked.html' title='Sex and the City sucked.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SEtdAndxutI/AAAAAAAAAI0/TPkqjdfdjGs/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8816602368160440894</id><published>2008-06-05T20:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T21:16:29.914-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Joy and happiness</title><content type='html'>When other people find comfort and happiness in my writing, or even a "hmmmmm" as a result of something I've said, it makes me feel good. Joy. Contentment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finally been PAID for my writing and I feel joy. Contentment. Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen my name "in print" online, but never on a page I can hold in my hand, but not printed by me. Published in the old fashioned way, if you will. I want that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know which road(s) I must follow. Easier said than done. But I've done this much so far, the rest should be easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8816602368160440894?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8816602368160440894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8816602368160440894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8816602368160440894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8816602368160440894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/joy-and-happiness.html' title='Joy and happiness'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5157087221804779960</id><published>2008-06-04T08:28:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T09:04:52.349-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9:30 Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craziness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gossip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>"GIRL, YOU NEED TO CHILL THE FUCK OUT!"</title><content type='html'>So I am like a bundle of nervous energy right now. I have no clue why. It's pretty ridiculous. I am worried about being a good person, worried about time and just about EVERYTHING. I don't know what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I care so much about everyone's opinion of me? Why is being a "good person" so important to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I'm thinking should I sacrifice the plans I already have in order to work at the Club because they need people? One girl I work with said it's "obnoxious" not to work it. Well, this is a busy weekend for me, so technically I can't. What do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Yesterday at the gym, one of the instructors was looking at my arms jiggle during some punches I was doing. I SWEAR SHE DOES BECAUSE SHE MADE A COMMENT ABOUT GETTING TIGHTER ARMS BEFORE! It pisses me off. But I caught myself looking at someone else's unfortunate body mishap later in the day and I think they noticed and now I feel SO ROTTEN about it. Ugh. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-So this woman I work with is the talk of everyone. They are all saying shit about her not doing her job well and blahblahblah. It pissed me off until I witnessed firsthand how she did things differently. The smart thing to do would have been to keep my mouth shut, but I made an offhand comment to one of my other co-workers about how the lady didn't seem to even CARE that she did little things differently, and now she's telling our manager. WHAT THE FUCK?! So now I'm a tattletale. I don't even know why I said anything . . .I wish it could be some altrustic "for-the-greater-good" shit, but I think it's personal because I'm new and still doing things wrong, so I wanted to feel better about everything or something. And to tell you the truth, I despise gossipy-behind-the-back talk and guess what? I'm sooooooo guilty of it. I do it ALL the time. I'm just, like, so disgusted with my OWN actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it's pretty stupid that I'm being so self-conscious. I just don't know what the hell my problem is lately. I need to CALM THE FUCK DOWN! I need YOGA and quiet meditation or else I might lose my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5157087221804779960?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5157087221804779960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5157087221804779960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5157087221804779960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5157087221804779960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-i-am-like-bundle-of-nervous-energy.html' title='&quot;GIRL, YOU NEED TO CHILL THE FUCK OUT!&quot;'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7701002953305191288</id><published>2008-06-02T08:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T07:53:11.854-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>Another scar . . .</title><content type='html'>The other morning lying in bed with The Boyfriend, I was telling the story of the scars I have, mainly physical (but we all know they're psychological as well), as he listened. He likes my body. I've heard it before, but there's so much wrong with it. Here's a list for all to read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I have stretch marks on my upper inner thighs, ass, hips, breasts and upper arms.&lt;br /&gt;- I have cellulite on my legs and ass. Total cottage cheese.&lt;br /&gt;- I have scars around my belly button from allergic reactions to nickle in belt buckles that I wear. (My skin is EXTREMELY sensitive.)&lt;br /&gt;- I have many acne scars on my face.&lt;br /&gt;- I have bike accident scars on the right side of my face.&lt;br /&gt;- I have a scar from stitches on my left eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;- I have calluses on my toes and the insides of my hands. (Strange, I know. The Boyfriend affectionately referred to them as "Workers Hands" and it made me really self-conscious.)&lt;br /&gt;- I have fat legs.&lt;br /&gt;- I have dry skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on. I need to love my body thoroughly before I can accept the love of it by another. It's something I've been working on for so long and I think I'm there and then . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this. It's stupid I know. As wonderful the compliments I've received about my body are, I still can't help but be reminded of all the mean things that people have said to me, including and perhaps especially ex-lovers. Sometimes I wish I could just escape it somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vulnerability I suffer from my body is nothing compared to the other vulnerabilities I have made myself vulnerable to with this new other human being I'm becoming vulnerable to and it's scary as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel so damaged and raw that I wonder if I'm just setting myself up for disappointment and a new scar . . .just as the other ones have began to heal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7701002953305191288?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7701002953305191288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7701002953305191288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7701002953305191288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7701002953305191288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-scars.html' title='Another scar . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8937146730719283232</id><published>2008-05-27T21:03:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T21:52:18.494-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>On Finding a Job and Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;The economy sucks. I've got bills for days. I've got to put gas in my car. And I don't want to get a real job just to pay for these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished looking on employment websites for a job and it all makes me sick. Every ad I saw made me want to throw up because they were all things I just don't want to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;I. just. don't. want. to. do. it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;I'm not proud of this stubbornness or this broke-ness I've experienced as a result of said stubbornness . . .not at all. I just physically, mentally and emotionally CAN'T DO IT. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;I try not to beat myself up over it, but it's hard when I'm going to be &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;24&lt;/span&gt; in a couple of weeks and you still, for the most part, have no set career path. I'm open to getting a good music job with the Club and I'm open to getting a staff writing position. I'm just so damn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;confused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a part-time day job that I don't hate, but it's such BS and is NO WAY a career. It's a small, friendly office and I do pretty basic things, but my brain is not being challenged at all. To be honest, it's a tad bit insulting to my intelligence when someone has to pretty much remind me of how to alphabetize something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even want to move out in DC. Sometimes I do, but why would I put up with a shitty job just for the sake of living downtown? I know me. I know I'll be a bad employee and I know I'll be complaining about my job to everyone I encounter. I don't know if I can do that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm STRONGLY considering grad school. Like, it's probably going to happen. Scary as hell, but it's something I know I have to do. It's something I feel extremely compelled to do. It's something I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to do. I've had this plan for years, but now, finally, two years after graduating from college, I'm going to get serious about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It annoys me when people ask me what I want to do. When people think I lack direction. When people think I have no idea what I want or what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so much more than my career choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit, is everyone as depressed over money and as broke as I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always said politics matter, but they don't directly affect my everyday life. WRONG! GEORGE W. BUSH SUCKS! THANKS FOR AFFECTING MY EVERY DAY LIFE DECISIONS WITH YOUR EVIL OIL TYCOON WAYS AND LACK OF CONCERN FOR THE LITTLE PEOPLE! Way to fucking go!&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/8777301919475635853-8937146730719283232?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8937146730719283232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8937146730719283232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8937146730719283232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8937146730719283232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/05/on-finding-job-and-stuff.html' title='On Finding a Job and Stuff'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-9055964552643666902</id><published>2008-05-20T21:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T08:36:39.371-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>So after over two months I've decided to start posting again. I mean, don't get me wrong, I totally enjoyed my little break from the blog, but I miss it. Terribly. The new blog just wasn't doing it for me and there is something to be said about writing under a pseudonym and being able to really say what you feel. The mask definitely helps with honesty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still going to maintain the other blog, but more for professional writing purposes. You can still check it out on the "Annabelle Loves" section of this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to other things . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I miss my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I feel a bit out of touch with my friends. For the past month I've been extremely busy with work and my new boyfriend. Yesterday I got really upset thinking about how no has invited me to do anything lately. I have a girl's night next week to see the SATC movie, but other than that, I don't know when I will see anyone. My birthday is coming up and I hate to be all in touch with people and have them think it's just so I can have them celebrate with me. I just feel like a shitty friend sometimes.  I'm a very social person and am generally pretty dependent and energized by my friendships, so without my girls, I feel a bit odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always start feeling like this around my birthday. I start questioning myself and my relationships. That's just what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm off to shower and organize my desk a little bit. Talk soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L&lt;3ve.&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-9055964552643666902?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9055964552643666902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=9055964552643666902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9055964552643666902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9055964552643666902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8735646587802278729</id><published>2008-03-14T23:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T23:52:14.808-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a grand time . . .</title><content type='html'>Hi beautiful people,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time for me to move on. I've enjoyed the past seven months blogging about who knows what. This started out as something completely different and I'm so thankful for the journey. I'm in such a different place than I was back then today that I believe I need start fresh completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, as I get serious about my future and career as a writer, I've got to take it more seriously and become, gasp, professional. As such, I'm going to get rid of this blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear not, I have another one that focuses on my writing and opinions: &lt;a href="http://www.adriennechristina.wordpress.com"&gt;www.adriennechristina.wordpress.com.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check me out there. It's been lovely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8735646587802278729?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8735646587802278729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8735646587802278729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8735646587802278729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8735646587802278729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-been-grand-time.html' title='It&apos;s been a grand time . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2078046324449709593</id><published>2008-03-11T12:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T14:39:09.866-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Unemployment Rocks!</title><content type='html'>Doing More with Less:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/display.php?id=34682"&gt;http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/display.php?id=34682&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this article last week and found it extremely entertaining. While I don't agree with all of the author's views, I believe it still makes some valid points. And I'm all for, what the author deemed, "creative loafing." As long as you don't neglect responsibility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2078046324449709593?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2078046324449709593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2078046324449709593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2078046324449709593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2078046324449709593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/unemployment-rocks.html' title='Unemployment Rocks!'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-827506536074403943</id><published>2008-03-10T10:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T10:08:54.454-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FYI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/HEALTH/03/10/pharma.water1.ap/index.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prescription drugs have been found in drinking water:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Story Highlights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Investigation finds pharmaceuticals in drinking water of 41 million Americans&lt;br /&gt;- Concentrations are minute; utilities say water is safe&lt;br /&gt;- Low-level drug combinations found to impact human cells, wildlife&lt;br /&gt;- Bottlers, some of who repackage tap water, do not typically treat, test for drugs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-827506536074403943?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/827506536074403943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=827506536074403943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/827506536074403943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/827506536074403943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3818046796697581642</id><published>2008-03-10T00:06:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T14:17:50.790-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9:30 Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the sims'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>The Sims 2</title><content type='html'>i just finished playing The Sims 2 for about four hours. i once wrote a philosophical essay in college about The Sims 2. i have been playing since high school and i go through periods of time where i play it often and enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, speaking of writing, check out this article that i wrote for suite101.com: &lt;a href="http://hair-care/suite101.com/article.cfm/relaxers"&gt;http://hair-care.suite101.com/article.cfm/relaxers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nuts, i'm a published writer now! i'm so motivated to query my ass off to get more of my writing out there. it feels so good to be doing something that i love. it doesn't feel like work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, and i've been talking about McDonalds for a few days with various people so i caved in and ate some today. i normally try to stay away, but i fucking love McDonalds fries. i got filet o'fish meal. so good. it was so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw The Hives at 930 Club last night and it was sweet. my best friends came with and we had a good time, even though neither of them really knew anything about the band.  i love those girls so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm super tired. i'm going to go put some acne cream my face and pass out. then tomorrow i'll do all the shit i didn't get to today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3818046796697581642?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3818046796697581642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3818046796697581642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3818046796697581642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3818046796697581642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/sims-2.html' title='The Sims 2'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6293512494107256908</id><published>2008-03-05T16:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T12:50:23.637-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hillary clinton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='voting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='presidential election'/><title type='text'>pro-Hillary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R9AgHSFLjLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/tRXyFq2eOUw/s1600-h/hillaryclinton_wideweb__470x308,0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R9AgHSFLjLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/tRXyFq2eOUw/s320/hillaryclinton_wideweb__470x308,0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174671281333439666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so I'm coming out. a few people already know, but I'm coming out all the way right now because I feel the need to speak up at this point. &lt;font size="5"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;i am pro-Hillary.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/font&gt; i voted for her in the primary election for Maryland. there, i said it. god, that feels so much better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday morning, i turned on msnbc and was surprised and, even more surprising to me than being surprised, DELIGHTED to see that Hilary had won texas and ohio. i am really happy for her latest victory because i had given up. it seemed as though obama was going to get the remaining delegates and the nomination. in an interview before tuesday's primiaries, hillary said that she would not give up until the end. she said she would keep campaigning until June if she had to. okay, it seemed a bit silly, but the interviewer said something that caught me. it made me believe that she absolutely is doing it for the people, not for herself. he said (and i'm paraphrasing since i don't remember exactly):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i think she is going to keep going because she truly doesn't have confidence in Obama's ability to be President."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he didn't say that she wants it "so bad" that she won't give up. it's not really about her . . .it's bigger. it's about what's best for the country. and this was before the  primaries on tuesday, so I basically thought "man, we're going to be missing out on a great leader." &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;she is ruthless, determined, passionate and confident . . .and i also agree with her views. she is who i believe in. &lt;/span&gt; if these things make her a bitch, &lt;font size="4"&gt; so fucking what. &lt;/font&gt; (maybe i am, too.) she didn't give up and she WON ohio and texas. no one saw it coming. are people finally realizing they've been a bit to hard on her? &lt;br /&gt;people are having "buyer's remorse" with Obama. i've talked to a few people who are going through it. they're questioning why they voted for him and what he really is going to do. we all know he has a lot of motivating, inspiring and uplifting things to say ("YES, WE CAN!"), but how does he intend on executing these lofty ideas? i am ALL for idealism, but i believe you need to have a solid plan and, sorry, experience before you can be my next president. you don't always have time to give speeches during a time of crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i don't dislike Obama or his supporters. i like that so many people have gotten behind a black man for president. it shows that, yes, in some ways we are post-racial in America (but there are still some limiations that i don't dare go into right now in this blog). that makes me happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then there's the media forcing me to question my race and sex when it comes to who i support. why am i not completely behind Obama, who is black like me. why am i not pulling behind him more? is it BECAUSE he's black? do i not have faith in a black man running our country? maybe i'm more female than i am black and that's why i'm voting for Hillary? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and since i'm college educated, i'm supposed to be for Obama. kinda ironic, that LOGICALLY, you should be more inclined to vote for Hillary because LOGICALLY she would be the best choice. because, you know, us college educated folks are supposed to be smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the point is, i believe in Hillary. always have, always will. i tried to jump on the Obama bandwagon and months ago, when his campaign was speeding up, i watched him speak and i just didn't get it. i saw Oprah's endorsement of him and just didn't get it. i still don't get it. i would be happy to see a black president and i will be sad if Obama doesn't win, but i don't think he's our guy. not this time. not now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and don't even get me started on McCain and who will be able to win against him. hands down, Hillary is our girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6293512494107256908?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6293512494107256908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6293512494107256908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6293512494107256908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6293512494107256908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/pro-hillary.html' title='pro-Hillary'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R9AgHSFLjLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/tRXyFq2eOUw/s72-c/hillaryclinton_wideweb__470x308,0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4830297477488458622</id><published>2008-03-04T21:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T21:56:28.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothin' much goin' on . . .</title><content type='html'>Today was such a good day. Just thought I'd put that out there. It's been a long time since I could thoroughly say that. I feel like there's a lot of bitching and complaining done in this blog, so I'm putting some positive energy out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just breathe. Just believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4830297477488458622?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4830297477488458622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4830297477488458622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4830297477488458622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4830297477488458622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/nothin-much-goin-on.html' title='Nothin&apos; much goin&apos; on . . .'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5614790355571501364</id><published>2008-02-29T18:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T18:57:25.751-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WTF'/><title type='text'>WTF</title><content type='html'>So, I've decided to volunteer somewhere. Why is it so hard to do so? I've been searching for an event to help with and it's way harder than I imagined. I have to apply, contact various people and do other things. You'd think I could just show up, right? Who'd have thought it would be that hard to help people? Well, it's not going to stop me, that's for sure. I've gone through greater hoops for a pair of jeans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish they'd make it easier for someone who has decided to help others. No wonder people don't volunteer more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5614790355571501364?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5614790355571501364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5614790355571501364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5614790355571501364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5614790355571501364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/wtf_29.html' title='WTF'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3122424236856864276</id><published>2008-02-27T09:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T21:25:41.242-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FYI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>Updates on my life . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I no longer work at the gym. It just wasn't working out and I could never commit to it for one year. Technically I was "let go," but it was because I told her I couldn't do full-time anymore and then she said part-time wouldn't work AND I wasn't excelling at the job. Ouch, way to put that excelling part in there. It kind of stings, but I know it's true. And the sad part is, I didn't even really try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I am sick with the flu. No fun, but I'm enjoying this time of rest in bed. It's maddening to not be able to even sit up for more than 15 minutes, but  this affords me to sleep and think about my next move in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) NYC is heavy on my mind again. I need to save more money before I can make the move, but I am thinking I need to just do it. I need to get my shit together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) I am focusing on writing because it makes me happy and I'm realizing I can't really do anything else. I've tried everything, but I do not think I will find happiness working for anyone but myself and doing what I love and enjoy. It just isn't working out any other way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. I'm trying to get better so that I can go to work at 930 tonight. I am so sick of the drive. I'm also sick of some of the people, too. BLEH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3122424236856864276?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3122424236856864276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3122424236856864276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3122424236856864276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3122424236856864276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/fyi_27.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3515469178798263006</id><published>2008-02-24T07:17:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T08:45:36.170-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PMS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>"You haven't really changed at all."</title><content type='html'>I didn't fit in with my "core friends" from high school. We didn't have that much in common intellectually, emotionally, mentally, or physically, but we were all friends. I'm still best friends with one of the girls, but I have lost contact with the others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're 23, one of us has THREE children (she just recently had twins!), two of us are married (the one with three kids and one other one) and two of us have no fucking clue what we're doing anymore (me and my bff) and we totally don't talk to one of the other girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  worked all day yesterday at the gym, as well as all night until 2:30am at 930 the night before, so I was exhausted. I even had to change in my car before we met up because I had no time to go home in between work and dinner, so I felt a little self-conscious. I'm a much more confident person in general than when I was friends with them in high school, but it was the first day of my period, so life is kind of out of whack anyway for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great seeing them all and being able to gossip about other people (just as we know we gossip about each other still) and compare stories of woe . . . which were reserved for me and my best friend who are similar places in our lives (still searching for the right man, career and life). The other girls are happy, or at least they're not the type to say they aren't. They're both married and stable. It's beautiful for them, but I can't relate to them and they can't relate to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the bookstore after dinner because I wanted to pick up some books. Once we were there, the girls just talked and talked, while I looked around for books. I had no interest in anything they were talking about and HELLO! I'm in a bookstore, I'm not going to sit around and gossip about so and so. I'm going to look for . . .books. So, I realize maybe I'm being rude and go back to join them, although I have no true desire. I'm feeling blah and to be honest, I would have rather been at home in bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was being fake going to the dinner  since I really didn't want to go, but I did want to support and catch up with my friend who had twins. One of the other girls irritated me to no end in HS and she still does (I'm not even going to go there), but I'm still glad I went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive home, I called my best friend and we're talking about how it wasn't as awkward as we thought it would be. I then said that the Irritating Girl hasn't changed AT ALL, even though she's married now. My friend agreed and then I said, "I mean, none of us have really changed all that much, but we've grown up." &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;And my friend said, "You definitely haven't changed." &lt;/span&gt; And then she said she herself has changed a lot and asked if I agreed. I kind of shimmied around the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, change is such a contextual and often specifically appropriate thing to comment on when it comes to people. Do we ever &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;change at our core? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the context of my core friends from high school, no, I haven't changed. I still feel awkward and I still feel as though we have nothing in common. That's why I've lost contact with those girls. I realized I'm completely different than them and that's okay. I'm not beating myself up over not being like them because, as screwed up as I am, I like being like myself. I don't know if I liked myself back in the day, and that's how I've changed. I've accepted how they are and more importantly, I've accepted myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the correct change, in my opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3515469178798263006?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3515469178798263006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3515469178798263006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3515469178798263006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3515469178798263006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-havent-really-changed-at-all.html' title='&quot;You haven&apos;t really changed at all.&quot;'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1735370089004359690</id><published>2008-02-20T17:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T20:53:07.014-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elusiveness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphysics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>wake up, unravel</title><content type='html'>the Israel that i never knew&lt;br /&gt;much more than myself&lt;br /&gt;upon the lips i’ve never kissed&lt;br /&gt;but imagine so well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the time i have spent&lt;br /&gt;obsessing about my life&lt;br /&gt;and the pestering superficialities &lt;br /&gt;that cause me such strife &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;decisions making me&lt;br /&gt;instead of the other way around&lt;br /&gt;so many possibilities&lt;br /&gt;cause me to shut down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found myself in the Backbar&lt;br /&gt;my 23 year old face in my hand&lt;br /&gt;dreamily contemplating&lt;br /&gt;the unraveling of my life plan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i once pulled the ball of yarn&lt;br /&gt;with the naïveté of bliss&lt;br /&gt;and kept dropping the string&lt;br /&gt;because of lack of focus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i’m so over it all&lt;br /&gt;mainly the lack of stability&lt;br /&gt;the not-knowing is worn out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do i have the ability&lt;br /&gt;to let go of the dream&lt;br /&gt;of the me i was supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;in the place i thought i’d be&lt;br /&gt;when everything is piling against me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i inexplicably visualize&lt;br /&gt;the sleeping lips&lt;br /&gt;that i never kissed&lt;br /&gt;and the feeling of his hands on my hips&lt;br /&gt;still in my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in an imperative whisper&lt;br /&gt;i should have said: &lt;br /&gt;"wake up, silly"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; but i smiled instead&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1735370089004359690?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1735370089004359690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1735370089004359690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1735370089004359690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1735370089004359690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/unknown.html' title='wake up, unravel'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3068711384575576947</id><published>2008-02-18T22:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T20:32:52.327-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Confidence</title><content type='html'>Today one of my co-workers at my new job said I don't seem like I'm confident during the warm-up for the kids and that if I don't feel confident in myself, no one else will trust me. She's right, but also, I don't really know what I'm doing, nor do I even want to do it. Hence why I might seem unconfident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this evening I went bowling with some of my 930 club coworkers and I HATE bowling because I'm not good at it, it's boring to me, and I think it's an awkward thing to do. So, anyway, I'm so fucking awkward and apparently one of my coworkers jokingly said I don't believe in myself when I bowl so that's why I suck. So, I believed and then I bowled a strike! YAY! It was pretty amazing, but then it all went away. And I stopped believing. But did my disbelief contribute to the consequent sucking or did my consequent sucking cause me not to believe anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a very confident person. Optimistic? Usually, although you'd never guess it from my blog entries. A feeling of self-worth? Absolutely. But &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;confident&lt;/span&gt;? No, I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as I've stated before, I don't really think I'm that good at a lot of things. That in itself wouldn't cause me to classify myself as unconfident. It would mean that I am realistic, I think. "Good" is so relative and according to my high standards, I don't believe I'm that good at most things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it all goes back to the fact that I was made fun of for a plethora of reasons during my childhood and adolescent years. I don't know how I could be a confident adult with people being so damn mean to me for so long. I blocked a lot of it out, but I still carry those judgements in my head. They're still there in my subconscious and I don't know what to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've ruined relationships, friendships and even myself in a lot of ways with my lack of confidence. I just wish there was a way to get it back. I try to fake it, but then it catches up unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's good to be confident. It's bad to be arrogant, full of yourself and unrealistic, but it's probably healthier than the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could find some confidence somehow . . .but I'd probably be bad at it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3068711384575576947?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3068711384575576947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3068711384575576947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3068711384575576947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3068711384575576947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/confidence.html' title='Confidence'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1557415075167874826</id><published>2008-02-16T04:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T05:16:40.431-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>What do you do?</title><content type='html'>"So, what do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fucking hate how that is like the first question people ask you. Your job does not make you, but somehow it does. People categorize you by the work that you do. I feel like it may just be a DC thing, but maybe it's just any metropolitan area. Everyone is preoccupied with careers. I think it's very unhealthy and bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run into it all the time now that I'm an adult. While working at 930 Club, people are CONSTANTLY asking me what "else" I do. "I now you just don't work here," they say. I sometimes answer with "I'm in between jobs right now" or "Still trying to figure it out" which prompts them to wince. I know what they're thinking because I've thought it, too. There's no way to make someone stop talking to you and literally walk away from you faster than to answer their question with: "This is my only job." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned to stop caring what other people think about what I do for a living because I know there is SO MUCH MORE going on with me right now than Mr. Joe Accountant's or Ms. Jill Awesome Freelance Photographer's opinion of my career choices thus far. I even got propositioned  by a "big shot" man who was enchanted with me and knew someone who writes for &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Rolling Stone&lt;/span&gt;. Who the fuck cares? The eighteen year old Music Industry major I used to be might have cared at one point, but the jaded, skeptical twenty-three year old me can see right through it for the bullshit it really is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the hard part for me is determining HOW I'm going to make a living. I still haven't figured it out yet and I'm about to quit ANOTHER job. God, it's so embarrassing how unstable I am. :\ I wish someone could tell me the answers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1557415075167874826?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1557415075167874826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1557415075167874826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1557415075167874826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1557415075167874826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-do-you-do.html' title='What do you do?'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-4047759329584534260</id><published>2008-02-15T07:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T07:15:51.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>I wish somehow I could get $10,000. I wouldn't even use it for frivolous things. I need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-4047759329584534260?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4047759329584534260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=4047759329584534260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4047759329584534260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/4047759329584534260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/fyi_15.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6149100091609630230</id><published>2008-02-14T00:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T07:18:50.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Cupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7C9UpIUcwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/12YBFqgvrKY/s1600-h/m58l147l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7C9UpIUcwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/12YBFqgvrKY/s320/m58l147l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165836934929740546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day to my single girls and relationship girls! Love what you got! ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6149100091609630230?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6149100091609630230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6149100091609630230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6149100091609630230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6149100091609630230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-ones-who-never-really-knew-me-at-all.html' title='Stupid Cupid'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7C9UpIUcwI/AAAAAAAAAH0/12YBFqgvrKY/s72-c/m58l147l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6898597266131176984</id><published>2008-02-13T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T22:06:28.088-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>My New Job</title><content type='html'>I'm so apprehensive about things. I reeeeeeeally hated my first full-time job. It was traumatizing how horrible I felt there. Not to mention my manager and I really didn't get along. I've been thinking about one of the last things she said to me before I left. When I was leaving, she said something about one of my references being the selling point in me getting the job. How fucking rude and passive-aggressive of her. I have ROCKED every other job I had, but I HATED working for her and the company. The job wasn't what I expected or what it was presented to be. I was at fault, too, I guess. I was disillusioned and found myself being really lazy after awhile. I could go on and on, but I'm not going to put that out there. I think it's ridiculous that she'd hire me just because of one reference. Obviously she was just mad and embarrassed because she chose me and it didn't work out, so she decided to put it all on me. I quit and I sucked at the job, but it's not for lack of intelligence or ability . . .it's for lack of interest in playing the role. Yes, I sound bitter and maybe I am, but I also don't care about that job that much. It's hard for me to even remember anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That experience scarred and scared me. I never again want to work for corporate America or work behind a computer and deal with office politics. That's why I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new full-time, salaried job is NOTHING like that other job, but I am still apprehensive. I'm still second-guessing everything. I have a shield up. I'm more than confident I can do the job, but I'm still nervous. I don't want to ever feel trapped again. I don't ever want to feel incompetent. I don't ever want to hate my job again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after the first day, I'm not in love, but I'm not in hate. I'm adjusting. I'm learning. I'm optimistic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6898597266131176984?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6898597266131176984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6898597266131176984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6898597266131176984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6898597266131176984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-new-job.html' title='My New Job'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7529563184174700571</id><published>2008-02-12T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T08:14:47.858-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teeth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FYI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Invisalign'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7DAa5IUcxI/AAAAAAAAAH8/BTIbLsTQ5qk/s1600-h/invisalign-05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7DAa5IUcxI/AAAAAAAAAH8/BTIbLsTQ5qk/s320/invisalign-05.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165840340838806290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new item on my wish list! I want to get Invisalign to close my open bite and push back from front teeth. I am a tongue thruster (not in a good way) and I'm working on that habit, but now I need to fix the damage that has already been done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told I needed braces when I was 22. Up until then no dentist ever referred me to an orthodontist. In fact, when I was a pre-teen I wanted braces and constantly asked my dentist if I needed them. It was mostly because all of my friends had braces and I had to be like everyone else so I thought, "Pleasepleaseplease tell me I need braces!" I was reassured by my dentist each time that no, I did not need them. My teeth were beautiful. UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have noticed my slightly bucked teeth as I got older. Enough comments have been made that it makes me self-conscious now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, I finally went to an orthadontist for a consultation after a new dentist finally(!) recommended me. I was broke, so there was no way I could even AFFORD braces, but I went anyway. The orthadonist was angry that I had never been referred to an ortho before and then he suggested braces, to which I said: "No." He got really pissed with me, but I just couldn't see myself with braces at 22. Hello, I have enough strikes against me physically, how in the hell am I supposed to add another one with braces? No thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am sure that when I get enough money, I'm getting Invisalign. It's invisible for the most part and aside from the annoyance of taking them out and brushing my teeth each time I eat, it seems perfect for me. I am thinking about Invisalign all the time. I research it all the time. It's my new wish. I have to have it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7529563184174700571?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7529563184174700571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7529563184174700571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7529563184174700571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7529563184174700571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7DAa5IUcxI/AAAAAAAAAH8/BTIbLsTQ5qk/s72-c/invisalign-05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-166250296742422460</id><published>2008-02-11T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T12:09:51.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Political Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7CAfZIUcvI/AAAAAAAAAHs/m8m0OxoHmVU/s1600-h/ObamaHillaryWinMcNamee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7CAfZIUcvI/AAAAAAAAAHs/m8m0OxoHmVU/s320/ObamaHillaryWinMcNamee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165770049404039922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt; (Has anyone noticed the sexual tension between Obama and Clinton?) &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking up this post for quite some time. I have been hesitant to voice my opinion on the Democratic primary candidates for various reasons, one of which was the fact that I just wasn't entirely sure who I was going to vote for. I have been avoiding the Obama campaign because he just wasn't doing it for me and a lot of his supporters are generally annoyingly overzealous. Not to mention, they all feel a the need to personally attack Clinton instead of arguing against her policies, although said views are very similar to Obama's anyway. For these reasons, I was resisting the Obama bandwagon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, ladies (and gents?), I have come to understand the other side. There are several reasons why I now think that Obama would be the better choice. I am still not anti-HIlary. In fact, I think she is very competent and would be able run our country quite well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we need something new and different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's not working, you've got to fix it. Right now in our country, we're in a crisis, we're at a crossroads. We've got to change a great deal of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I am still torn, though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if Obama can hold is own against McCain. I think there is a strong chance that McCain will win the vote, so now it's a matter of who can win against McCain. I personally think Clinton would be able to hold her own against McCain considerably better than Obama, but Clinton is so damn polarizing . . .but so is Obama for some Americans. Ugh. See what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My indecision is so frustrating. Tomorrow when I go into the voting booth, who knows who I will vote for. But one thing is for certain . . .I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; be voting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-166250296742422460?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/166250296742422460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=166250296742422460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/166250296742422460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/166250296742422460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/great-political-post.html' title='The Great Political Post'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R7CAfZIUcvI/AAAAAAAAAHs/m8m0OxoHmVU/s72-c/ObamaHillaryWinMcNamee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2966522794718543831</id><published>2008-02-07T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:06:04.979-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FYI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purpose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>FYI: On Positivity</title><content type='html'>I deleted my entry from yesterday morning. I guess I was just freaking out initially about the one year thing because I wasn't expecting it. It goes against all of my plans, but I know if I turn down this opportunity I will regret it. The stability and responsibility I was yearning for may come from this experience. There's nothing bad in that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This job is kind of answering my prayers. I said I didn't want another office job and I'm sticking to it. I just can't do it. It's not for me. I said I wanted to work with kids somehow. I like working out. I like being silly. This job is all of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I'm making money doing things I love and I don't think it gets much better than that when choosing a career path. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over coffee with a friend yesterday, I realized that I may not be in NYC, but I sure like where I am right now. I think I'm doing the right thing. I'm happy with my decisions. I'm headed in the right direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Oprah. I don't think she's nearly as evil as everyone makes her out to be and I think I'll do a post about that sometime. On her show yesterday, some life coach said the following and it really resonated with me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Love life because life loves you back."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree. And those who get annoyed with my positivity and don't understand my decisions, that's fine. Take your negativity and doubt somewhere else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2966522794718543831?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2966522794718543831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2966522794718543831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2966522794718543831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2966522794718543831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/fyi-and-wtf-all-in-one-my-personality.html' title='FYI: On Positivity'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-69697893222016826</id><published>2008-02-04T22:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T23:36:02.822-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purpose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Jill of all trades, master of some?</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Focus-Posters_i1855409_.htm?AID=423786166" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/CLI/TV013.jpg" border=0 alt="Focus by Thierry Vasseur"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Focus&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that people go through six careers in their lifetime.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; Six!&lt;/span&gt; It's comforting, but it's also scary. Careers are so important because that's our livelihood and how we spend a significant amount of our days, but  I don't want to be defined by mine and I know it will never be the sole purpose of my life. That being said, I also want one that I don't absolutely dread and hate. I've been told that once you have a family of your own, priorities change and suddenly you can stand to have a job you hate if it means making money to support your loved ones. Holy shit, I have so much growing to do before I'm at the point where I can be selfless enough to have a shitty job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I interviewed with a temp agency. I've temped a couple of times in my life and have yet to have a really positive experience doing so. I thought once I graduated from college, I'd be saved from mundane, pointless office work. I guess I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And going through the motions and taking the stupid tests at the temp office, I realized that I still haven't a clue what I could do for the rest of my life. It seems like I'm always changing my mind, leaving some place or idea and falling for the same fucking traps over and over again.  I generally HATE office work. I hate the politics, I hate the dress code, I hate sitting in front of a computer all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I'd like to do this writing thing, but I need to make a living and eventually become financially independent, you know. There are some days when all I have to do is focus on my writing and I can't decide if I want to write a fiction novel, a non-fiction book, freelance, write a screenplay or what. I'm so fucking depressed that I can't even concentrate on anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was really good at something . . like expertly great. I wish I could excel at something . . . even something small. I wish I was flexible enough to be an amazing yogi. I wish I was a true artist. I wish I could play the guitar or piano like a pro. I wish I know the secret on how to keep a boy interested (and vice versa) for more than a couple of months. I wish I was really super, super cool. Like fashionable, life of the party cool. I wish I was a girl who people thought had it together. I wish I was neat and organized. I wish I could just focus on something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am good at some things. I'm good at leaving. I'm good at changing my mind. I'm good at not staying in one place for too long. I'm good at fooling people. I'm good at "woe-is-me." I'm good at freaking out over things. I guess I should just focus on the positives, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I wasn't always like this. I was a Type A kid. I was always in accelerated classes. I was in a math club (yes, I used to be GOOD at math) where I was the only girl and minority. I was Captain of the Safety Patrols. I wrote and directed my first play at the age of 10. I wrote a novel when I was a teenager. I started numerous newsletters. I won lots of awards. But something happened to me. Somehow I become unglued and disillusioned. Somewhere I stopped being the best at things. I settled for mediocre. I stopped caring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to know what happened to me, but I really can't think that long enough about one thing before my brain starts to wander. I just know I can't go on like this forever. I've had so many breakdowns about life and what I'm doing with mine. I'm exhausted. I just want to figure it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-69697893222016826?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/69697893222016826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=69697893222016826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/69697893222016826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/69697893222016826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/jill-of-all-trades-master-of-some.html' title='Jill of all trades, master of some?'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6996449166458162774</id><published>2008-02-03T13:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:11:25.228-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gossip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Peace and Love</title><content type='html'>Hi guys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, do I need a change of scenery, of life, and of everything. I hate always leaving places and never being able to stay still for too long, but I just need to get away. When things aren't working out, I've got to change something. I've tried and tried to make it work, but it just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt;. I am not entirely happy right now. When will this ever present discontent ever end with me? &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;SERIOUSLY!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to stop watching TV for awhile. I am also giving up celebrity gossip blogs for one week. It can be done! It will be ROUGH, but I think I can do it. So starting right now, no more until next Sunday. (Britney Spears is in the hospital now, so hopefully nothing exciting happens with her. Not that anything she does is ever exciting anymore anyway, but you know what I mean.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am also going to stop gossiping about people in real life. I know that us girls naturally do so, but it's so empty and pointless. I used to  do that shit, but I've grown out of it . . .I thought. But sometimes I get thrown back into the mix. It has to stop and it's stopping now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to sleep. I haven't had a good night's sleep in awhile. I've been waking up feeling groggy and out of it. Not a good look. I also emotionally feel drained when I don't sleep. And I feel ugly. And I end up eating a lot, so then I feel fat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I'm &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;severely &lt;/span&gt;sexually frustrated? AND THE ONE GUY . . . yeah, he isn't feeling it. How depressing. Story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm off to shower and finish "The Other Boleyn Girl" finally. Then hopefully I will nap. I worked out for two hours today and I'm exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I have another job interview and I find out about the children's gym instructor position on Tuesday. And I have to plot my interview for the staffing agency in NYC, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are finally picking up for me and I'm even more confused about it all now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥,&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6996449166458162774?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6996449166458162774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6996449166458162774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6996449166458162774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6996449166458162774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/peace-and-love.html' title='Peace and Love'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-196402655250068263</id><published>2008-02-01T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T21:20:24.856-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Torn.</title><content type='html'>So, I just had my second interview to be a children's gym instructor at a new gym in Rockville. It sounds very fun, different, and exciting. The only problem is that it's not temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an interview with a temp agency Monday. The ONLY pro is that it's TEMPORARY and will make the transition to NYC a lot easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't gotten a job offer for the gym yet, so we'll see how that goes. I'm not putting my eggs in one basket, so to speak. I really need to have another job to save money and pay my pills. 9:30 Club alone ain't cutting it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's cold and rainy. All I wanna do is read in bed and sleep. Maybe I'll hit up the gym later. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend, everybody!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-196402655250068263?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/196402655250068263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=196402655250068263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/196402655250068263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/196402655250068263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/torn.html' title='Torn.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7452853096699223216</id><published>2008-01-30T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T14:17:03.972-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WTF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FYI'/><title type='text'>FYI and WTF All in One: My Personality Disorder Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width="330" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" border="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="180"&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disorder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="120"&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/paranoid.html"&gt;Paranoid Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/schizoid.html"&gt;Schizoid Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/schizotypal.html"&gt;Schizotypal Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#ff0000" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Very High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/antisocial.html"&gt;Antisocial Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#000099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Low&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/borderline.html"&gt;Borderline Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/histrionic.html"&gt;Histrionic Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/narcissistic.html"&gt;Narcissistic Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/avoidant.html"&gt;Avoidant Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#cc0033" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/dependent.html"&gt;Dependent Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#cc0033" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/ocd.html"&gt;Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;font color="#000000" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;br&gt;-- &lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv"&gt;Personality Disorder Test - Take It!&lt;/a&gt; --&lt;br&gt;-- &lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/index.html"&gt;Personality Disorders&lt;/a&gt; --&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all i can do is lol at this. i have a schizotypal disorder. lovely. lol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;edit: &lt;/span&gt;so i did a little research on schizotypal personalities and i meet the qualification of having been teased relentlessly as a child. it taught me to not entirely truth others  and i learned to rely on myself a lot. interesting . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7452853096699223216?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7452853096699223216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7452853096699223216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7452853096699223216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7452853096699223216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fyi-and-wtf-all-in-one-my-personality.html' title='FYI and WTF All in One: My Personality Disorder Test'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7888108022700115309</id><published>2008-01-29T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T13:55:54.117-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morning after post'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9:30 Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Drunk. (Homegirl needs a shrink!)</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm still really hung over right now. I will edit this once I sober up . . .or maybe I won't. I'm posting it now anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got REALLY wasted after work last night and started being a little bit crazy. The guy that I used to be interested in was there, so you can only imagine what happened. I told him not to be awkward with me anymore and he said he wasn't and that I was just being self-conscious. He's right, sorta. I guess what I meant to say is that I miss him being "into" me or at least pretending to be. So did I let it go? NO! I was rude to him and spiteful. I told him I didn't want to be known as "The Weird Girl Who Had A Crush on ##!!$#$" and everyone laughed because I was drunk and ridiculous. And then I said, "I don't even think I did like him . . .I just wanted to make out with him." Yes, I went there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, he &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; make it awkward. (Well, he has been weird with me lately, but it's probably because I've been kind of rude to him.) &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; make it awkward. ALL THE TIME! WITH EVERY GUY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we went out to eat at The Diner after the bar, I was frustrated. I wanted to say so much to him, but I couldn't. I wanted to tell him that he's so closed off and talking to him is like a brick wall. It all sort of hurts my heart and I KNOW it has no right to. He has NOTHING to do with me and THANK GOD, but I can't help but be drawn to him. Not because of how beautiful he is, but because I know his type . . .I know him. And he (and every other man I go after) is always the Unattainable Object to me. I can never have (insert latest name here), but he's always the one I want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Attainable Objects don't interest me. I don't care for 'em. It's self-destructive, maddening and embarrassing. I need to open myself up to love. I need to be less picky, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sitting here feeling so many things right now. Rejection isn't one of them. I feel lonely, foolish, scared, troubled, unstable, insecure, lost, and remorseful. I want comfort, love, romance, a date, passion, excitement, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I don't belong here. I know where I belong, but being there won't fix my heart. It won't fix me getting drunk and feeling happy except  for the fact that I don't have anyone to go home to or be excited about. It won't stop me from wondering why I can't meet a decent guy and have it be mutual and right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I saw these teenagers being all lovey and kissing each other during a Metal show at the club. I thought to myself, "Love comes so easily for a lot of people, why not for me? Why do I have such a hard time? Will I ever know a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; relationship? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Real &lt;/span&gt;love?" Of course it goes back to the 'rents, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I just wish it came easier for me. I wish I was able to just do it without expecting it to be fantastic and wonderful and perfect because it never is, right? And that's okay. But why do I have such idealized images and will it be the end of me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen either of my parents in a healthy relationship. They still don't actively pursue relationships with anyone. I guess this is what I know. Loneliness and discontent in love is what I've been taught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want to change. I want to accept love. I want to be in love. I want to have a healthy relationship. I need to set the example for my parents, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I still want to make out with a boy, but not just any boy. I don't want it to be some random hookup with someone I don't care about. I've been trying to hold out, but it's getting harder and harder. It seems as though I'm confusing "like" for "attracted to" again . . .although I thought I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;categorically&lt;/span&gt; knew the difference. I guess I don't. Why is it all so fucking hard?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7888108022700115309?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7888108022700115309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7888108022700115309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7888108022700115309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7888108022700115309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/drunk-homegirl-needs-shrink.html' title='Drunk. (Homegirl needs a shrink!)'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5084621816616769192</id><published>2008-01-28T13:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T23:37:30.949-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jake gyllenhaal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie reviews'/><title type='text'>Zodiac is a good movie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Zodiac-Posters_i1898302_.htm?AID=423786166" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/MMPO/505306.jpg" border=0 alt="Zodiac"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Zodiac&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching "Zodiac" starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Robert Downey, Jr. and Mark Ruffalo. Um, how did this not get nominated for an Oscar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a GOOD movie. Slightly boring at parts, but the acting was superb, the direction was excellent, the writing was awesome . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved "Juno" and everything, but this was a much better film. I know they are COMPLETELY different, but I don't understand how this movie can be so overlooked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enjoy your day. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5084621816616769192?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5084621816616769192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5084621816616769192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5084621816616769192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5084621816616769192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/zodiac-is-good-movie.html' title='Zodiac is a good movie.'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6221949223445153922</id><published>2008-01-26T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T22:55:15.765-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Saturday Night Free Write</title><content type='html'>Japanese art rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gossip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilliance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Distrust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tongues being bitten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negative thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incompassionate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coldness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insensitivity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apple Cider Vinegar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6221949223445153922?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6221949223445153922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6221949223445153922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6221949223445153922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6221949223445153922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/saturday-night-free-write.html' title='Saturday Night Free Write'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7165310113881678879</id><published>2008-01-26T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T23:19:01.316-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9:30 Club'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>Is everyone really just depressed most of the time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep running into people that are depressed and I want to help them so much, but I feel as though some people find it annoying and are offended by it. Some people don't perceive my happiness and positivity as a good thing or even a genuine thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a positive person, but I have dark moods sometimes, too. I get down. I think it's all about the way in which you handle your issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be around perpetually negative, depressed, and sad people. It brings me down and it doesn't do me (or anyone else) any good. Maybe I'm inconsiderate and not very compassionate, but I can't deal with it.  I want them to be happy, but I can't handle being around the sadness all the time. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Especially when they don't try to help themselves. &lt;/span&gt;Some people are just more comfortable being unhappy, I suppose. Again, I believe we should be allowed to be upset, but when you don't try to make things better, that's when I have a problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just keep singing along in my happy, positive little world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Edit:&lt;/span&gt; Tonight I said something really alarming to my friends . . .it shocked me how cruel it sounded. But I said, if you're not living your life and doing what makes you happy, you're basically a waste of space. Isn't that horribly insensitive and stupid of me to say?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7165310113881678879?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7165310113881678879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7165310113881678879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7165310113881678879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7165310113881678879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fyi_26.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-937854268206561547</id><published>2008-01-22T17:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:12:32.498-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purpose'/><title type='text'>Celebrities: On Heath Ledger's Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R5Z9_4OxIUI/AAAAAAAAAHA/QzkjYqBXRbA/s1600-h/mr_fp_171259.xlarger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R5Z9_4OxIUI/AAAAAAAAAHA/QzkjYqBXRbA/s400/mr_fp_171259.xlarger.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158448959579038018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving home from the gym today, I got a text from one of my friends. It said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Heath Ledger died today!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I found out about Anna Nicole Smith last year was the same way . . .a text. It's all so sad. And I just wanted to get home to check a celebrity blog to find out what exactly happened. It was as if this death, the death of someone I have never met and don't even know remotely, was somehow relevant in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;MY&lt;/span&gt; world. Like, how is this affecting &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ME&lt;/span&gt;? How can &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; write about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's disgusting, if you really think about. Okay, so suppose I didn't think about what &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; would get out of it,  the question remains why do I care about this person's death anyway? Why am I taking time out of my life to research and to even write about it this second? I have lots of shit that needs to do. (My room isn't going to clean itself.) If Heath Ledger hadn't died today, what would I be doing right now? Helping my life somehow, I'm sure. Is this really helping my life right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image of Heath Ledger I have in my head is him walking on the streets of NYC with his daughter on his shoulders. It is heartbreaking that she will never get to know him. I wonder if he thought about her in the last seconds of his life? It was an apparent drug overdose. Why did he feel the need to end his life? Maybe in the coming days we'll find out more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this guy had fame, fortune, a beautiful little girl . . . but none of that kept him here. Maybe it's because he was lonely, especially after his split with Michelle Williams. Who knows. What keeps any of us here? We can, theoretically, end it all at anytime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What gives life meaning? Why do we go on? What makes us fully happy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come upon these questions after a text and a celebrity blog told me a celebrity died. It's so postmodern. At times I feel as though I am lost in this postmodern existence. It seems unreal, intangible, pointless . . . it's so easy to lose touch with reality in these times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I'm sure everyone thought Britney would be the next celebrity to die in this fashion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-937854268206561547?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/937854268206561547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=937854268206561547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/937854268206561547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/937854268206561547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/celebrities-on-heath-ledger-death-and.html' title='Celebrities: On Heath Ledger&apos;s Death'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R5Z9_4OxIUI/AAAAAAAAAHA/QzkjYqBXRbA/s72-c/mr_fp_171259.xlarger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-261632276045692937</id><published>2008-01-21T13:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T17:46:03.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace and Love (?)</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a flat tire at 6:00am this morning after driving some co-workers home. I was over-tired and ran over a curb downtown. Good thing I had a co-worker in the car with me to change my tire. I felt like I was inconveniencing him with the flat tire even thought it happened while I was taking &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; home. And the other night I went 20 minutes THE OPPOSITE WAY from my house to take another co-worker home. And a couple of months ago I got two speeding tickets from a camera on the way home from driving another co-worker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this what I get for going out of my way? Or is it simply me not being a good driver . . . especially from 4-6am. I am still not entirely used to being alert at 3am. I have dozed off more times than I care to admit driving home from the club. It's dangerous  for me to drive when I'm so exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just when I think I'm "okay" with money (and by okay, I still mean broke), this shit happens. :( I try to look for the positive in situations, but it's hard sometimes. At least it's just the tire that is ruined, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I applied for a bunch of jobs last week and haven't heard back from one. I sent my resume out to some jobs with 9:30 Club listed on it and on some I omitted it. I'm wondering if sending my resume without 9:30 Club listed makes it seem like I've been fired or something? I don't know. It's very frustrating. I am confused about what my next move should be. I want to get another part-time or even full-time job here, preferably a temp one for a non-profit to save money for NY and build up my resume. But at the same time, I'm applying for jobs in NYC. Do I settle with any old job here since I really need to make more money (and benefits would be nice) or do I continue to be picky?  It's just so hard and confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was reading the local newspaper and saw my friend Meghan's byline. I'm really happy for her because being a reporter is something she's always wanted to do. It makes me kind of sad because I realize that I am not really where I want to be or even thought I'd be right now. That's why I'm pushing for NYC again because when I was there, it WAS where I wanted to be. It is so hard, but I'm happier trying than just settling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also feel sort of out of place at 9:30 Club. No one has been mean to me or anything, but I just feel different from everyone else. I don't smoke weed, I don't drink a lot, I'm not entirely a night person, I don't party hard, I'm a good girl, I'm a bit sheltered . . the list goes on. Everyone is super nice to me, but I feel a little paranoid, especially considering the whole fauxmance thing with that guy that everyone knows about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know if I just ignore it, it'll blow over, but I still feel awkward because I told some people about out little "thing" and I think they probably talk to him about it. I feel like it's a running joke. It is to me because in typical Adrienne fashion, the one guy I am interested in at the club is the one who just isn't interested in me. It's bizarre for me to meet a guy who is so physically attracted to me (he admits it) and single, but doesn't want to act on it anymore. It's also probably healthy and wise that he doesn't, but what sucks is that I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; just want to make out with the kid. I'm still attracted to him and it's hard for me to ignore it, but I"m trying my best. Furthermore, it's hard for me to see other couples that I work with because it reminds me that I'm alone. My expectations I had with this guy and our flirtation, which gave me something to look forward to, is meaningless now. It's an empty feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow,  I've written a lot in this entry. I have a lot going on inside my head. I'm feeling incredibly shitty right now. I know it'll pass, but it doesn't change how I feel right now. Please send some positive energy my way. I need it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace + Love,&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-261632276045692937?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/261632276045692937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=261632276045692937' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/261632276045692937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/261632276045692937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/peace-and-love_21.html' title='Peace and Love (?)'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6953632765885356779</id><published>2008-01-18T17:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T18:04:15.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF?!?!</title><content type='html'>This is my new favorite blog. I found her blog while doing research on "black women who act white" for my new book. This woman is black and married to a white man with two-biracial children and well . . . just read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blackamerican.blogspot.com/"&gt; That black girl: Just callin' it as I see it. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't hate her. I kind of admire her honesty and guts. I don't agree with everything she expresses, but I can relate to her in a lot of ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*OFF-TOPIC: I find myself hating all men. I know it's not good to hate ANYONE or ANYTHING, but I have had very few (if any) completely positive experiences with men recently, yet alone throughout my whole life. I don't like being this way, but I really only think they are "good" for two things: opening jars and making out. That's it. I need help.*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6953632765885356779?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6953632765885356779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6953632765885356779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6953632765885356779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6953632765885356779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/wtf_18.html' title='WTF?!?!'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8126647880895623678</id><published>2008-01-17T17:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T17:55:43.266-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>Sometimes a girl just needs to make mistakes   . . .but if the mistakes take control of you, that's when you know it's time to stop. It's time to take control back. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;It's time for a re-evaluation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest love interest is completely emotionally unavailable and apparently, isn't that into me. Whatever. I've learned I cannot waste my time with someone who isn't into me. There's no point. I hope he has a nice, functional life. So now I'm playing it cool. I've forgotten about the kisses, the embraces, the whatever the hell else happened. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;It means nothing. &lt;/span&gt; It meant nothing to him then and it means nothing to me now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that easy. (Side note: He still flirts with me and shit. I have to tell him to stop. Somehow it seems like he's more attracted to me now that I've "gotten over" him. WTF!?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was never that into him either. From day one, I said he's like a brick wall. He's so fucking emotionally unavailable that it's sad. I've known it since our first real conversation, but somehow I thought I could change him. Even &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;other&lt;/span&gt; people thought I'd be the one to change him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size= "4"&gt; HAHA! GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK! &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when have you ever heard of an unavailable, dangerously independent, and scared man changing because of a girl? It doesn't happen. My mom stayed married to a man for 20 years in hopes that she'd change him and guess what? SHE DIDN'T! And guess what else? He's my dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person has to change because they want to and it has to be on their &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;own terms&lt;/span&gt;. Sure, maybe the latest guy I was into just needs "the right girl,"  but any self-respecting girl will not stick around and be pushed away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if said girl is lucky, the guy will just run away anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have dealt with SO MANY guys and in so many different situations. I'm no longer jaded. My guard is up. I feel like a wise woman. I know when it's time to let go, but sometimes I still make mistakes. Sometimes I (stupidly) put myself in situations that are way beneath me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I learn and grow from them. I get hurt and then I get better. That's how life goes. There's no big mystery to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the record, can I just say I'm WAY OVER unavailable men. There is nothing ~*~*~*mysterious*~*~ or ~*~*~*alluring*~*~*~ about them. So over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;So, ladies, here are deal breakers:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) He has a girlfriend. (DON'T EVEN LOOK TWICE!)&lt;br /&gt;2.) He is always on his computer. (ESPECIALLY IF HE'S ALWAYS ON MYSPACE! MAJOR RED FLAG!)&lt;br /&gt;3.) He smokes weed all the time. (Unless you smoke all the time too, I don't see this working.)&lt;br /&gt;4.) He doesn't call you. (DUH!)&lt;br /&gt;5.) He stands you up. (PROBABLY BECAUSE HE'S ON MYSPACE.)&lt;br /&gt;6.) He makes you feel stupid.&lt;br /&gt;7.) He only pays attention to you when he's drunk.&lt;br /&gt;8.) He tries to wine and dine you. (WHAT IS HE HIDING?)&lt;br /&gt;9.) He doesn't have ambition. (NO LIFE PLAN. NO CAREER GOALS. NO THOUGHTS ABOUT THE FUTURE. WELL OBVIOUSLY YOU'RE NOT IN HIS FUTURE EITHER . . .HOPEFULLY.)&lt;br /&gt;10.) He is 38 years old and you're 23. And he's your boss. And he has a girlfriend. And he makes you feel uncomfortable. And he asks  you if you sleep naked or with pajamas. And he keeps harassing  you about your lack of a boyfriend. (HE WANTS TO MANIPULATE YOU. HE WANTS TO RELIVE HIS YOUTH. WHY CAN'T HE FIND A WOMAN HIS OWN AGE? HE IS GROSS!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8126647880895623678?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8126647880895623678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8126647880895623678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8126647880895623678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8126647880895623678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fyi_17.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3837353354460456495</id><published>2008-01-16T13:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T13:58:04.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Never Touch A Black Girl's Hair"</title><content type='html'>This is a new theme on my blog. Remember that book I was talking about? Well, I've decided to start being more public about it. I'm going to feature segments, my real thoughts and other observations on my blog.  Just sort of like a diary of what I think so I can put this all into book form and get the ball rolling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all unedited, obviously. Forgive me for my poor grammar and syntax. If it bothers you, stop reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the content offends you, please let me know why. Leave a comment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3837353354460456495?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3837353354460456495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3837353354460456495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3837353354460456495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3837353354460456495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/never-touch-black-girls-hair.html' title='&quot;Never Touch A Black Girl&apos;s Hair&quot;'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-24159211474323951</id><published>2008-01-16T12:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T12:24:45.165-05:00</updated><title type='text'>CELEBRITIES</title><content type='html'>Things I don't get in Celebrity Blogland:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-What is the big appeal of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Zac Efron&lt;/span&gt;? He's not very attractive and he seems very gay. I don't even think I would have liked him when I was younger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Who are the J&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;onas Brothers&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Why do 25-year-old men like &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Miley Cyrus&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete Doherty&lt;/span&gt;. Why do we care? Who is he? I always skip posts about him, but does anyone read them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Gummi Bear&lt;/span&gt;???? Who is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Girls Aloud"&lt;/span&gt; . . .some British girl band? What is the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"The Spice Girls"&lt;/span&gt; . . .see above. Except I know that the point is they're going on some reunion tour. I liked them in middle school, but do they even merit a reunion tour? I feel like they were popular for, like, 3 months. It's been &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;TEN YEARS&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Do we care anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Why do we keep getting &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;daily&lt;/span&gt; paparazzi shots of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Britney Spears&lt;/span&gt;? If the public ignores them and stops paying for the paparazzi's pictures, maybe they'll stop taking them. Maybe Britney can then stop trying to appear in the magazines. And her new boyfriend is so slimy and shady. I don't feel bad for her anymore . . . the whole situation disgusts me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why is &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Perez Hilton&lt;/span&gt; still so popular? Plenty of other blogs are updated more frequently. A lot of other blogs are more reliable. A lot of other blogs get more exclusives. He is biased, vulgar and boring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Have a good day, y'all. I'm going to write a little and maybe work out before work. I'm feeling a little weird and out of it. Probably because I'm PMSing. I feel a little down. Bleh. It'll be over soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-24159211474323951?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/24159211474323951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=24159211474323951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/24159211474323951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/24159211474323951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/celebrities_16.html' title='CELEBRITIES'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-7232713526254770209</id><published>2008-01-15T16:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T17:22:54.378-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>I'm open to something great. I'm ready to be lead. I need to get it together. I'm listening . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm kicking myself for not saving more money at my last (and only) full-time job! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm kicking myself that I didn't try harder a year and a half ago when I first went to NYC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-7232713526254770209?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7232713526254770209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=7232713526254770209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7232713526254770209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/7232713526254770209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fyi_15.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-9062489529022884547</id><published>2008-01-14T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T17:43:35.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Novel Idea</title><content type='html'>I just finished reading "The Mistresses' Daughter" by A.M. Holmes. I finished reading it in a few hours .  . .I just couldn't put it down. The first half captured me, the second half lost me, but the end was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author was the result of an affair between her birth mother, who was 22, single, and not in any position to raise a child, and her birth father, was was an older, married, emotionally unavailable man. Both of her birth parents are deeply flawed. Sadly, she is never to truly connect with either parent truly. Her mother dies prematurely from a cause that is somewhat unclear (kidney failure) and her father basically disowns her to keep the peace in his "other" family. Utterly depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, what does this have to do with me and my writing? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just been exhausting myself with my inability to, you know, write something. I try to write everyday and right now I'm averaging only 3 days a week. PATHETIC! I have no idea when or IF I will even be published anytime soon, and that's a BIG risk to take when you are 23 and need to get a fucking clue as to what I'm going to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still looking for jobs in NYC, but the task is daunting and disheartening. I don't want to give up and I'm not, but after nearly two years of trying off and on, I think maybe I have given up. Why didn't I just save money when I was making it to move there on my own? Why am I so afraid, slow to act, helpless . . .I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, I'm off to potentially write. Or maybe I will look up information on my own paternal grandparents I never knew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-9062489529022884547?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9062489529022884547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=9062489529022884547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9062489529022884547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/9062489529022884547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/novel-idea_14.html' title='A Novel Idea'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1288376483700174399</id><published>2008-01-12T16:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T16:22:48.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace and Love</title><content type='html'>Hi there, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I didn't get to perform in front of my co-workers! We ran out of time! Bummer, huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm taking it easy. I've purposely decided that I'm not working out today. My poor knee is feeling a bit injured. I am going to meet up for dinner with a friend. Relax at home for a bit. Maybe play The Sims 2. (YAY!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of  my supervisors at The 9:30 Club is constantly probing about my being single. It annoys me to no end. I don't want to talk about it. People think there is something wrong with me being I'm single. Why are they so concerned? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like they think a pretty girl just can't possibly be single. NO WAY! And if she is single, she can't possibly be HAPPY! Every girl has to have a boyfriend! If you don't, what is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;WRONG&lt;/span&gt; with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I would love to be in love. I would love to meet someone who blows me away. The fact of the matter is, I just haven't lately. So please kindly fuck off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I'm getting okay with the idea of not having anyone and not looking for anyone, someone has to make me feel kind of shitty about it. I need to toughen up. I'm trying. Really, I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of aiming for the wrong ones. I am holding out. I am, for perhaps the first time in my life, NOT WORRIED ABOUT IT. Don't make me be worried about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried the romance. I've felt the fire. I've fallen. I've gotten back up. I'm jaded. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I've been a bit promiscuous. I've been the other woman. I've been the virgin.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; I'VE BEEN IT ALL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now let me try to be me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1288376483700174399?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1288376483700174399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1288376483700174399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1288376483700174399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1288376483700174399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/peace-and-love_12.html' title='Peace and Love'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8727914234124027889</id><published>2008-01-11T12:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T12:36:43.523-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mc hammer'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s49.photobucket.com/albums/f294/liz_antoinette/?action=view&amp;current=grammartime.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f294/liz_antoinette/grammartime.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8727914234124027889?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8727914234124027889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8727914234124027889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8727914234124027889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8727914234124027889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fyi_11.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5738041821100100086</id><published>2008-01-09T12:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T13:10:45.897-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stalkers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Internet'/><title type='text'>WTF?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R4UOFYOxITI/AAAAAAAAAG4/uD4cmcqWbeY/s1600-h/Independent-070524-Google.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R4UOFYOxITI/AAAAAAAAAG4/uD4cmcqWbeY/s400/Independent-070524-Google.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153540834161926450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;SOMEONE IS WATCHING YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or rather, me, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMEONE IS STALKING WHAT I'M DOING ONLINE! I swear. It's not just on Facebook. (MARK ZUCKERBERG, THE CREATOR OF FACEBOOK, WAS ACCESSING INFORMATION FROM "OUTSIDE" WEBSITES BY DEFAULT WITHOUT ASKING FOR OUR PERMISSION. HE PUBLICLY APOLOGIZED AND MADE IT AN "OPT-IN" FEATURE INSTEAD. . . . DID YOU KNOW THAT?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;THEY KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are trying to sell things! I will Google something once and suddenly find ads for it all over the Internet. I even get E-MAILS offering me shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is up with this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Internet is awesome. I love it and probably couldn't survive without it. Well, I could &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;survive&lt;/span&gt;, duh, but you know what I mean. But sometimes . . .it creeps me out. I believe we are becoming &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; reliant on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird to think that marriages, babies, jobs, deaths, etc. have all happened BECAUSE OF THE INTERNET. It's really everything in one place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But is it really living? Is it GOOD to be so wrapped up in technology? Are we becoming and creating ADD, technophile, MONSTERS? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The government (and whoever else wants to) can trace our every move on the 'Net. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;YOU ARE BEING MONITORED RIGHT NOW WHETHER OR NOT YOU LIKE IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me says: "FUCK IT! THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO! I WILL CONTINUE LOOKING UP CELEBRITIES AND HOW TO CURE ACNE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it DOES bother me. My life is being monitored. This is real-life Truman Show shit. This is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;1984&lt;/span&gt; in 2008. Weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking up jobs in NYC the other day and checking out the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;New York Times&lt;/span&gt;. I do have a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Washington Post&lt;/span&gt; account, but I rarely use it now that I've decided my next move is definitely going to be NYC. (YAY!) So anyway, I'm looking up jobs and stuff, and then LOW AND BEHOLD, I get a fucking e-mail from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Washington Post&lt;/span&gt; saying: "Update your resume! We noticed it's been almost three months since you've updated." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS THIS JUST A COINCIDENCE? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's downright SCARY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my dear friends and readers, please, please, be &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;AWARE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5738041821100100086?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5738041821100100086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5738041821100100086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5738041821100100086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5738041821100100086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/wtf.html' title='WTF?!?!'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R4UOFYOxITI/AAAAAAAAAG4/uD4cmcqWbeY/s72-c/Independent-070524-Google.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-823300603333148110</id><published>2008-01-08T12:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T12:18:02.905-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FAVES</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Today I have to sing and perform in front of my co-workers at 9:30 Club. I'm super nervous, mostly because singing in front of people you work with is a little ridiculous. I used to perform all the time in high school, so I am not all that nervous about the actual singing . . .I'm more nervous about having to look at them while I'm doing it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have been applying to jobs in NYC and I'm quietly reassured that I'm ready now. Scared, but ready. :) This is a big decision. I've been in a kind of daze for the past few days contemplating this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;TOP 10 FAVE SONGS THAT I'VE HEARD IN MY LIFE THIS FAR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. "Joyful Girl" by Ani DiFranco&lt;br /&gt;9.  "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac&lt;br /&gt;8. "Pale September" by Fiona Apple&lt;br /&gt;7.  "I Wanna Be Your Lover" by Prince&lt;br /&gt;6. "Sunday Morning" by No Doubt&lt;br /&gt;5. "Redemption Song" by Bob Maryley&lt;br /&gt;4. "Subterranean Homesick Alien" by Radiohead &lt;br /&gt;3. "Nowhere Fast" by Incubus&lt;br /&gt;2. "My Cherie Amour" by Stevie Wonder&lt;br /&gt;1. "Waiting in Vain" by Bob Marley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This list will probably change, but this is as of today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-823300603333148110?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/823300603333148110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=823300603333148110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/823300603333148110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/823300603333148110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/faves_08.html' title='FAVES'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-8615910427815584649</id><published>2008-01-07T15:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T16:16:36.082-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baths'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>A NOVEL IDEA</title><content type='html'>there's something a little illegal&lt;br /&gt;about taking a bubble bath&lt;br /&gt;in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;on a monday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet that's where i find myself&lt;br /&gt;contemplating life, love,&lt;br /&gt;and the new incense &lt;br /&gt;i just lit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish you could see some of the faces&lt;br /&gt;when i tell people my plan&lt;br /&gt;an endearing nod&lt;br /&gt;or a muffled chuckle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it seems slightly unrealistic&lt;br /&gt;indulgent&lt;br /&gt;and fantastical&lt;br /&gt;my wanting to write a book&lt;br /&gt;and become a published author&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but gee, isn't 70 degree weather&lt;br /&gt;in DC on january seventh&lt;br /&gt;and a bubble bath at 3 in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;on a monday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unrealistic,&lt;br /&gt;indulgent,&lt;br /&gt;fantastical?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-8615910427815584649?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8615910427815584649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=8615910427815584649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8615910427815584649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/8615910427815584649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/novel-idea.html' title='A NOVEL IDEA'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2331715856879562864</id><published>2008-01-05T14:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T14:24:50.718-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>PEACE AND LOVE</title><content type='html'>I had an epiphany today. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I am &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; not relationship material.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep wondering why boys that I like never want to be in a relationship with me and how I can never find the right guy and I've come upon the conclusion that I'm so not ready for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, I'm 23. I'm not getting any younger. I just don't have my fucking shit together. I am a complete mess in every way imaginable. Seriously. I am not ready to take on someone else's bullshit along with my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the point of crying about boys not wanting to be with me? Most of the boys I want to be with aren't boys that are relationship material anyway. The latest one I wasn't even that into, but I forced myself into it because I was way attracted to him, but did I want to BE with him? I don't know. I can't compete with his computer, his car and weed. That's what took up his time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've said to my friends, give me 5 guys who are all the same in every way except one has a girlfriend, one is a pothead and the other three are single and ready to mingle. I will go for the one with the girlfriend, hands down. Next I'll try the one who's a pothead. Then I might date the single ones, but eventually end it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm not ready to commit. I'm comfortable with being turned down and being single. I'm okay thinking I'm ugly and undesirable, which is sad. I know I'm neither, but I also know I'm having too much damn fun being single and a mess. I want to date around. I want to have fun. I want to experience life. I want nothing to hold me back, especially no fucking whiny ass guy who has mood swings and makes me feel like shit for no apparent reason. Who wants that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Don't feel bad for me. This is a very important and uplifting realization. It's empowering. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not where I want to be emotionally, career wise, financially, physically, life wise . . .Basically in every way. I am not ready for the commitment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who says you have to have a boyfriend? I want one, who doesn't want a soul mate, but I kind of like being single. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to experience true love and happiness and all that jazz, but why force it? I'm going to work with what I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my concentration is my career in 2008 and to continue my personal growth. I have gotten a little thrown off with that whole thing for the past couple of months, but I'm back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking for freelance writing jobs and finally buckling down with it. By the end of 2008 I hope to be living on my own and have a more straightforward career plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend, y'all! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Side note: I cut my hair short and I love it.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2331715856879562864?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2331715856879562864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2331715856879562864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2331715856879562864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2331715856879562864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/peace-and-love.html' title='PEACE AND LOVE'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-3141268249407314835</id><published>2008-01-04T17:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T18:14:02.550-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britney Spears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jamie Lynn Spears'/><title type='text'>CELEBRITIES</title><content type='html'>Oh, you know I had to write about it . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;THE SPEARS GIRLS HAVE LOST THEIR MINDS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I never posted about Jaime Lynn and her pregnancy a few weeks ago, but OF COURSE I have an opinion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why wasn't she on the Pill or at least using condoms???? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, she is 16! Nevermind the fact that I think it's ridiculous that she was allowed to sleep over and go on vacations with her older boyfriend. Mama Spears is a little nuts for allowing this. Jamie Lynn is at fault, yes, but she's a baby. I don't think she's "ruining her life" necessarily by having a baby at 16. She doesn't know how to be a mother and she may not be ready, but she'll figure it out. It'll be hard, but she'll be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT WHY OH WHY DID MAMA SPEARS PUT HER SHIT OUT THERE IN OK! MAGAZINE! WHAT? She could have EASILY hidden this whole mess for months. We haven't seen Jamie Lynn because she's, presumably, been holed up in Kentwood. How would we have seen her or known about the pregnancy??? They should have kept it under wraps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AND THEN WE HAVE BRITNEY'S HOSTAGE SITUATION LAST NIGHT . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart goes out to this girl. She is obviously in so much hurt and turmoil that she doesn't want to LIVE anymore. Can you imagine how this feels? I can. I have had numerous breakdowns (Um, HELLO! I did blackout while talking to a boy who was rejecting me a few days ago!) and I can only imagine how magnified it is with the WHOLE WORLD watching you! At least I have my family and friends to support me. It seems as though Britney has pushed everyone away. The only people around her are the ones she pays. I feel for the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is hard. Britney's life is not normal by any means. I can only imagine how it must feel to be here. As you know from my previous posts about Britney, it's really weird that she was THE POP PRINCESS when I was in high school and defining who I was as a woman and person. She was everything us girls wanted to be and now . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I end this post with her video "Lucky". Self-fulfilling prophecy? I think so . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch and listen with awareness. I pray to God BritBrit doesn't commit suicide. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/32Me0WXTcpg&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/32Me0WXTcpg&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-3141268249407314835?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3141268249407314835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=3141268249407314835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3141268249407314835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/3141268249407314835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/celebrities.html' title='CELEBRITIES'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1287488002205433375</id><published>2008-01-02T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T22:39:42.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Single Girl</title><content type='html'>So, after much consideration, I have decided that I don't need a boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my girlfriends so much. They love me unconditionally and are always there for me. They make me happy. Why do I need a man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men are unpredictable. Men will come and go. Unless they are sure about me, I don't want it. Unless they are continuously adding to my life, I don't want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friendships are more important to me and most of them have lasted a whole lot longer than any relationship I've ever had with a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not looking for a man to fulfill me at this point of my life and I don't think I will ever depend on one fully. I don't think it's a smart idea for a girl to only receive happiness from a partner or ever think, even in marriage, that it'll last forever. It's always smart to have an alternate plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to be in love and not able to imagine life without said lover, but shit happens. You just need to be smart about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my love life, I am going to love my friends, family, and whatever the hell else makes me happy. I'm going to focus on me and my future. The past is forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm single and that's okay right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes a better version of me . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1287488002205433375?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1287488002205433375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1287488002205433375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1287488002205433375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1287488002205433375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/single-girl.html' title='Single Girl'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-6832395671348806134</id><published>2008-01-01T09:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T09:47:05.080-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='America&apos;s Next Top Model'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faves'/><title type='text'>FAVES</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Well, what a difference a day makes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am super good right now after sleep and rest. My poor body. :( I am so over that guy and now that I'm thinking coherently, I realize that I was just into the idea of him. I liked having someone I was attracted to at work, but now that he's out of the picture, WHAT A RELIEF. I wasn't really feeling him as relationship potential, but I definitely wanted to hook up with him all the time. He's missing out. And as for moving to NYC right this second, I will eventually move there in a few months, but there's no rush. I'll get there soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone has a wonderful New Year's Eve! I did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on to our regularly schedule program:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3pSMoOxISI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ymCtYUWIv34/s1600-h/2589.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3pSMoOxISI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ymCtYUWIv34/s400/2589.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150519500762849570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;FAVE MARATHON ON TV:&lt;/span&gt;  "America's Next Top Model" is, BY FAR, the best show to watch a marathon of on television right now. I rarely watch it during it's regular run on it's regular night . . .I'd rather just see a few episodes from the marathon on VH1 or MTV. SO GOOD. That's what I'm doing now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite season is probably the season where they go to Japan that featured Yaya, Eva, and that blind chick. It was awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would consider being on this show if only for the makeovers. If they say they're cutting off my hair, though, I'd definitely have to fight Tyra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-6832395671348806134?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6832395671348806134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=6832395671348806134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6832395671348806134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/6832395671348806134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2008/01/faves.html' title='FAVES'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3pSMoOxISI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ymCtYUWIv34/s72-c/2589.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-933964769689150824</id><published>2007-12-31T15:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T17:46:36.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Distraction</title><content type='html'>I am going to deal with this the only way I know how . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is so mysterious. It's a sort of sad day in the life of me today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start out by saying that I do not believe this is because of one boy or one incident. It would seem foolish and superficial of me to write what has happened to me off as just a reaction to being rejected. The truth of the matter is, I was fooling myself into being interested in someone for lack of anyone else to be interested in. I was attracted to him, but I think that's where it began and ended. I was foolish and this has taught me, once again, that attraction does not make a bond or, obviously, a relationship. For some people, but not me, being physical with someone is reserved for a relationship only. There is no such thing as just hooking up or dating and having fun. That is fine and I'd like to have less superficial relationships with the opposite sex, but alas, I have to take what I can get and give. So far, that has been my experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're still reading this post, I applaud you. I have gone way off the track from my original aim. This isn't about relationships or my sad song about the lack thereof. This is about my mortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blacked out/passed out this morning for the first time in my life. The causes remain varied and obscure- I had worked out pretty heavily yesterday morning,   I didn't eat enough during the day and I drank a couple of drinks on a fairly empty stomach pretty hasitly. I'd been feeling sick all day and out of it for the past couple of days and I guess it all caught up with me in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that moment&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;That moment&lt;/span&gt; is the one where he basically told me it was all in my head and that he wasn't interested in a relationship, or anything it turns out, at all. Wow, how can this be happening to me again under such different circumstances? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in that moment, I didn't want his love or his arms around me. I wanted . . .I don't know. I wanted &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt; Truth, I guess. but not his truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was talking to him, the world slowly went to black starting with the right side of my vision, and I initially thought I was just experiencing a blood rush to the head. This was different. This was like I was a computer who's monitor went into sleep mode. Then the sound slowly muted. Reality set in . . . it was like all the rejection I've experienced from an early age hijacked my vision and hearing. I was truly all alone with my thoughts and my voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I kept thinking was: "God, I don't want to die. Not like this. Not with some fucking 30-year-old pothead in his room that had black light posters and who, most importantly, doesn't give a shit about me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the pothead told me to breathe and to calm down and I tried. I needed water. I needed to get to the bathroom. I wanted to be alone. I was embarrassed. What a great fucking time for my body to betray me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slowly came to while on the floor in his hallway. I looked around. I don't remember seeing him. It was freaky. I finally got to the bathroom and drank the water he got for me and looked in the mirror to see that I had a pimple on my forehead. "Great," I thought. "I'm still alive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I believe in God. I thought about my life during that black time. I thought about my mom and how I couldn't leave her. I thought about my dad, whom is always just out of my reach, and how he's given me the blueprint to go after these way unavailable guys. I thought vaguely about my brothers. I thought vaguely about the little girl I used to nanny for, Clare,  who I feel so connected and responsible for. One day I want a little girl just like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized, "Holy shit, Adrienne! You are 23 and you are working at a music night club with these people who are super nice, but super content. You're here for so much more." I realized, like a broken record, I need to move to NYC. I need to do it again for myself. I need to chase after fame. These are things I've always wanted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, of course, I want that, but you can't force it. You can't fake it. I for sure didn't feel any love for this latest guy. Not at all. Nor adoration. No wish to marry him. Nothing of the sort. I think I just wanted his body and attention. So why in the hell did I let him affect me so damn much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new plan is to move to NYC for real this time. Try acting, join a band and for real. Be a fabulous singer and that's it. There's nothing wrong with that. Do it the right way, not relying on anyone else for this to happen. This is just what has to be done. I lack stability in my life. I lack direction. I lack a solid plan and these are things that need to change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you never know when life will blackout for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And furthermore, love is all around me. Life is too short for a pothead distraction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-933964769689150824?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/933964769689150824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=933964769689150824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/933964769689150824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/933964769689150824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/distraction.html' title='Distraction'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1409245665905548727</id><published>2007-12-31T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T08:06:45.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am moving to NYC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a very scary near death experience and it became clear that I am definitely wasting my time not following my dreams. Definitely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1409245665905548727?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1409245665905548727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1409245665905548727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1409245665905548727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1409245665905548727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-am-moving-to-nyc.html' title=''/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-1907358706727892320</id><published>2007-12-28T14:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T15:10:00.920-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>ANNABELLE'S REVIEWS AND VIEWS: Juno</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3VX3YOxIRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/99WHMBKOKr4/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3VX3YOxIRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/99WHMBKOKr4/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149118357876842770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt; Damn, he has some nice legs. &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to keep this short and sweet. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Juno&lt;/span&gt; was a cute movie. &lt;/span&gt;It'll make  you feel good. It's like &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Napoleon Dynamite &lt;/span&gt;without all the awkwardness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The acting is great. The dialogue is hilarious. It's as good as all the cool people are saying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is, actually, one aspect that's a little awkward, but you can see it for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Verdict: &lt;/span&gt; Movie theater it! (But if you're broke like me, wait for the DVD. There's no crazy special effects that would entice you to see it on the big screen.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-1907358706727892320?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1907358706727892320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=1907358706727892320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1907358706727892320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/1907358706727892320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/annabelles-reviews-and-views-juno.html' title='ANNABELLE&apos;S REVIEWS AND VIEWS: Juno'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/R3VX3YOxIRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/99WHMBKOKr4/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-5261548522838576670</id><published>2007-12-27T11:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T12:02:15.695-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercise'/><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Marilyn-Monroe-Hollywood-1952-Posters_i262854_.htm?AID=423786166" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/FOT/FFPOFP97.jpg" border=0 alt="Marilyn Monroe, Hollywood 1952 by Philippe Halsman"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Marilyn Monroe, Hollywood 1952&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you exercise regularly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across an article about how much Americans regular exercise, or rather, how many Americans exercise regularly and it turns out that about half of us do. Then I started thinking about people I know who exercise. Then I started thinking about me and how much I exercise and WHY I do so . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This really isn't really for your information as much as it's for MY information. I have been exercising fairly regularly since I was a very chubby 15-year-old. I did so because I knew that I didn't want to be "the fat girl" for the rest of my life. I remember the exact day I decided that I would lose weight and be healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be in show choir, a group where you sing and dance on stage,  in high school. I LOVED it. Most of the older girls were dancers, so naturally they were thin and pretty. I was one of the youngest girls in the group, so add on the fact that I was chubby and awkward . . . I definitely DIDN'T fit in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day our instructor decided to videotape us because our dancing was becoming sloppy. She wanted to show us what we looked like on stage. We watched it and I felt SICK to my stomach. Seeing all that blubber, seeing how out of place I looked . . .I just couldn't believe that that was ME. I just kept thinking, "No wonder I don't have a boyfriend! Who would want to go out with me?" It was like for the first time I was seeing myself how others probably saw me and it broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excused from class and claimed I was feeling sick (which was true). I went to the nurse and told my mom to come pick me up. Once I got into the car I cried and said: "I am so fat and ugly. I want to sleep forever!" And the truth was- I actually DID want to. With all my being, I wanted to sleep it off. Of course my over-dramatic mama FREAKED out. She said: "Do you know what you're implying? YOU'RE IMPLYING YOU WANT TO DIE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I was on suicide watch. &lt;/span&gt;I wrote in my journal, I slept and I watched television all day thinking about what I was going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I decided I was going to lose weight and I knew I would do it. I just knew it would happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked in the phone book and searched for a kickboxing class. I got a free trial and loved it, but we found out it was going to cost $400 for a year, so my mom bought me a work out video instead (Kathy Smith: Kickboxing Workout) and I did it 3-4 times a week in my basement and it WORKED. I lost a significant amount of weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a promise to myself that cold and sunny day in November of my fifteenth year that I'd never be sedentary again. I had to work on my eating habits (and still am working on them to this day), but exercise was so important to me. It helps in every  way. I may not be the most muscular Gym Queen in the whole world, but it's not about that for me at all. It's about health and happiness. It's about this being a part of my daily routine and my life &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;forever&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop reading and start doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-5261548522838576670?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5261548522838576670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=5261548522838576670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5261548522838576670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/5261548522838576670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777301919475635853.post-2698435459764824601</id><published>2007-12-26T14:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T14:32:22.481-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>First of all, I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! I surely did. I'm sad to see the Holidays come to an end, but at the same time, I'm ready for a little normalcy. HAHA. What? Normalcy? What's that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how this blog used to be? It was less about me and more about my original aim- entertainment mixed with a little betterment. Enlightenment mixed with a little Britney Spears. Basically, it was like "GIRL POWER" in the Spice Girls sense of the expression. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped away from it because I thought it would be better to make this more personal, but I soon discovered that A.) I was less inclined to write without guidelines to follow and B.) Frankly, it's boring to read me ranting all the time. (That's what my LiveJournal and regular journal is for, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm back to the original plan of Annabelle Blue. Well, back&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Monday- A Novel Idea. &lt;/span&gt;A chapter for my novel in progress. (I need to have a little motivation to keep writing.) I'll post it here (very nervously) for you all to read and critique. The name of the novel and other details will likely remain private for my own sanity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tuesday- Annabelle Blue's Faves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Wednesday- Celebrities&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Thursday- FYI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Friday- Reviews and Views&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Saturday/Sunday- Peace and Love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just a rough skeleton of the new schedule. Of course I'll change some things, but this is where I think I'm going with this . . . for now. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8777301919475635853-2698435459764824601?l=annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2698435459764824601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8777301919475635853&amp;postID=2698435459764824601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2698435459764824601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8777301919475635853/posts/default/2698435459764824601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annabelleblueblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>annabelle blue is . . .</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14857730894313348662</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mHgnHXX9zGA/SYcKfxQQDJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/nXnY6T870PY/S220/2cftg6g.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
