<?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-2607675431597252081</id><updated>2011-07-07T20:22:09.521-07:00</updated><category term='A man and a Scorpion'/><category term='I Can&apos;t Stand the Rain'/><title type='text'>A Journey Into the Unknown</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm no great scholar recorded in histories volumes. I'm no great warrior, now an acclaimed legend. I'm no artist who paints the world and makes all things beautiful. There are so many things I know I'm not, so I'm left trying to figure out who am I........what is my purpose........what is my purpose.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-7908080157394242677</id><published>2010-01-28T02:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T02:44:29.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendly post</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to share something from an email a friend sent me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness keeps you sweet,&lt;br /&gt;Trials keep you strong,&lt;br /&gt;Sorrows keep you human,&lt;br /&gt;Life keeps you humble,&lt;br /&gt;Success keeps you going,&lt;br /&gt;But only friends keep you glowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUTE RIGHT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-7908080157394242677?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/7908080157394242677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=7908080157394242677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7908080157394242677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7908080157394242677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/friendly-post.html' title='Friendly post'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1431188819184239662</id><published>2010-01-21T01:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T01:52:46.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why is it the person who drives you crazy the most, is the one you can't get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;enuff&lt;/span&gt; of! You know the end result is gonna be a bad one but it's some sort of magnetism that keeps you going back for more. This has to be the case for all of these young women I see who go for the "bad boy". These men have nothing to offer you, yet women flock to them like bees to flowers. What is so attractive about someone who can't speak proper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;english,&lt;/span&gt; is disrespectful, and doesn't share the same values as you. It's mind boggling to me......more to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1431188819184239662?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1431188819184239662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1431188819184239662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1431188819184239662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1431188819184239662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-is-it-person-who-drives-you-crazy.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6832141774394879686</id><published>2010-01-15T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T07:27:29.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all About Me</title><content type='html'>I never realized how much self esteem affects young women. I know this girl who is beautiful, but for some reason finds her self gratification from men or by putting others down. It makes her so unattractive. I'm not perfect in any way but no one has to tell me I look good for me to enjoy being in my own skin. There are features that I absolutely love about me being a heavyset woman and all. I understand the fact that you want you're mate to appreciate what your wearing especially if your trying to dress up for them, but how does one let &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;another's&lt;/span&gt; opinion completely defeat them. As for the putting others down that is as low as one can get. Everyone has something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; about them. If you get your jollies making others feel bad please stay the hell away from me. You are shallow and need to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; life. Your standard of attraction is obviously a physical one and you've missed out on some of the best folks around. I'm beginning to ramble so I will stop here but let me say this: If you're constantly sizing folks up and they seem to always come up short maybe you need to apply your scale to yourself! Do you even measure up to the standards you want everyone else too? It's cliche to say try taking a walk in someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; shoes and if your one of these sub-humans it would be impossible for you to do anyway. My advice to you is keep living life and maybe you can learn a thing or two!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6832141774394879686?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6832141774394879686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6832141774394879686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6832141774394879686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6832141774394879686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-all-about-me.html' title='It&apos;s all About Me'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-2437915794312236270</id><published>2010-01-13T23:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T23:40:31.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's in a Gaze</title><content type='html'>I curse the day we met&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;I wish I would have gotten out before it got so bad&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;I cringe when my mind finds you in memories&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;My heart races with anger at the sound of your voice&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;Too many I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sorries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;Too many I dunno's&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;Jokes turned sour by malice and contempt&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;The countless insults&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;the complete &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disregard&lt;/span&gt; of my feelings&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;Your stuck in your world in which you do nothing wrong&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;The weight of it all&lt;br /&gt;but then our eyes meet&lt;br /&gt;and all is forgiven because of the warmth and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;innocence&lt;/span&gt; that dwells there.&lt;br /&gt;it's in this gaze that I wish to stay forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-2437915794312236270?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/2437915794312236270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=2437915794312236270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2437915794312236270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2437915794312236270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/whats-in-gaze.html' title='What&apos;s in a Gaze'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-9040707128108911882</id><published>2010-01-13T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T06:10:32.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret of the Day</title><content type='html'>I wonder why I hide my true feelings from you. Maybe it's fear, more likely the fear of rejection. I just don't think you realize the magnitude of your words. When you tell me things like you're not going to be there, I believe this to be fact. Why do you think you get to take this back with a simple I'm sorry. Or by saying I didn't meant it. Maybe you should start saying what you mean while I'm still listening. I don't see my life without you , yet it's becoming unbearable to have you as apart of it. If I struggle with you so on the small things how can we get to the big ones? I await your response with open ears and an open heart. I want to share it all with you, but you have to want it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-9040707128108911882?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/9040707128108911882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=9040707128108911882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/9040707128108911882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/9040707128108911882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/secret-of-day.html' title='Secret of the Day'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-8466565175921945961</id><published>2010-01-08T07:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T07:13:32.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 2010!</title><content type='html'>First off I want to exclaim how happy I am 2009 is over, what a year! I have grown so much and yet I know there is still so much road left to travel. I'm taking the time now though to share something that has been upsetting me lately. I have a twofold problem. The first half is folks are way quick to pass judgement on someone else. Instead of lending a helping hand or ear they write others off because they feel some twisted sense that they are better than that person. It's like my grandma says "sweep around your own front porch before you go worrying about somebody else's". If you find yourself constantly talking about someone I'm talking about you. Put yourself under the same microscope you put others, not so perfect are we? I didn't think so! The second part is I can't stand for some one who is young, able bodied, and of sound mind to complain, complain, complain but yet do nothing to change the situation. I have seen too many people come from so little and do great things. Get up off your lazy ass and make it happen. I know people who are considered poor who are the happiest, healthiest folks I know. They are proud of what they do have and appreciate the important things like love, and family, and the wellness or lack thereof of mankind. I pray that in this new year and the years to come folks can stop being so worried about what they don't have and learn to cherish what they do have. Turn that mirror on your self from time to time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-8466565175921945961?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/8466565175921945961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=8466565175921945961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8466565175921945961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8466565175921945961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-2010.html' title='Happy 2010!'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-5038949915588336971</id><published>2009-01-14T22:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T22:00:56.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>So its been for ever since ive posted, yet its close to bed time so I will have to make this one short. The new year opened with a problamatic start. I will include details at a later date.....nothing I cant overcome though right?!? my gramdma had surgeory today I was nervous for her all day. Im happy to report she's well and being demanding as ever. More to come.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-5038949915588336971?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/5038949915588336971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=5038949915588336971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5038949915588336971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5038949915588336971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-274794116562493650</id><published>2008-09-07T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T03:03:12.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Relationships are like that game twister. You are so busy focused on getting this date right or saying the right thing that you end up all twisted and fall. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ultimatly&lt;/span&gt; losing the game. I don't wanna play at relationships anymore. I want to be allowed to really enjoy spending what could be the rest of my life with someone who is right for me. Not saying the relationship I'm currently in wont work out to be exactly that. We have a great deal of potential. All the right framework is there but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every things&lt;/span&gt; all jumbled up. It's like on of those puzzles with a ton of pieces and everyone looks alike so it takes a great amount of time and effort to put it together. Yeah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; actually a very accurate discription. Then there is the outside influence that says it's not worth it, or it's not meant to be. I'm so sick of being beat over the head with folks saying that to me. Didn't their mothers ever tell them if you don't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; nice to say then don't say anything at all. I guess not........My emotions are all over the place and I can't seem to stay focused on anything. I wish I could find someone with all the answers and do whatever they say. Like a guidance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;counselor&lt;/span&gt; whose speciality is relationships.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-274794116562493650?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/274794116562493650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=274794116562493650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/274794116562493650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/274794116562493650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/09/relationships-are-like-that-game.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-710142981112081014</id><published>2008-08-16T23:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T23:51:43.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back From Vacation</title><content type='html'>Well it is safe to say that I was defiantly missed by my baby while I was away. I can't believe some of the stuff that one pulls. My trip was fun too much drama though. Folks especially family to learn to love one and another. At least be grateful you have family to turn to. We take so much for granted especially our loved ones. I do wonder though why black families seem to have so much strife between them......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-710142981112081014?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/710142981112081014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=710142981112081014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/710142981112081014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/710142981112081014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-from-vacation.html' title='Back From Vacation'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-2181094635433414134</id><published>2008-08-08T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T23:34:56.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I spent the day packing for my LA trip, I'm not at work extremely mad at myself for taking so long to pack. The funny thing is technically I'm not finished. I'm still super excited though finally a break from every day life. Hopefully I will get some well needed rest too. My brothers are always too much fun, they are so full of life, to be young &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lacombe&lt;/span&gt; I'm so sorry I missed it. I know you were beautiful and handsome respectively. You two are proof that true love does exist. I can't wait for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;' ones. Tinkerbell is gonna be jealous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-2181094635433414134?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/2181094635433414134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=2181094635433414134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2181094635433414134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2181094635433414134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-i-spent-day-packing-for-my-la-trip.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-614123589946202186</id><published>2008-08-08T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T00:17:28.343-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I Can&apos;t Stand the Rain'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Have you ever been given everything you ever asked for? How about in a relationship? Well it's the most amazing experience in the world. As if you're floating on clouds nothing but sunshine and blue skies. Now think of what would happen if some dark force came along and snatched that cloud from under you. This is my current state. My cloud is gone! I can't bear to face this I wanna be a spectator at the movies, not the leading actress. As the events unfold it gets worse. The more I try to be happy the more grief I cause........and then there is you. I can't protect you from this as much as I want to. Yet I also can't give you the out you need. Not to mention you don't want it. I wish I could say we will be better once we make it through this, but that's the thing, there will never be an end. My judgement is cloudy too full of emotion. I wanna run from this so badly why am I being made to face this. I mean how can I be expected to give up the love of my life just like that. Everything is closing in. I'm trying to hold on keep fighting the good fight but sometimes one must succumb to the dark side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-614123589946202186?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/614123589946202186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=614123589946202186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/614123589946202186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/614123589946202186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/08/have-you-ever-been-given-everything-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-7060856156664725750</id><published>2008-08-07T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T23:59:14.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talented right!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Miss You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you like the earth with no atmosphere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like taking a breath with no air there.&lt;br /&gt;Much like a mountain spring when I need a drink. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss you like the words I cannot find when I’m trying to speak.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you more like the words to a song I can’t seem to remember. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss you like yesterday dreams about forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like an empty chair in a crowded house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like walking in on the end of a conversation and not knowing what everyone is laughing about.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you like a Valentine lost in the mail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like an ocean breeze moving not a single sail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like a comparison misses a metaphor; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;like an unanswered knock at an open door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like how we are know and how we used to be before…Damn, I just miss you girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hyland Hicks &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-7060856156664725750?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/7060856156664725750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=7060856156664725750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7060856156664725750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7060856156664725750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/08/talented-right.html' title='Talented right!?!'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-854562112630835946</id><published>2008-07-28T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T20:13:36.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P.  Joker</title><content type='html'>So I went to see the latest batman movie. The joker was awesome hands down, he stole the show! Favorite lines were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm like a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it. I just do things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Introduce a lil anarchy. Oh and by the way chaos is fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Look what I did to this city with a few barrels of gasoline and some bullets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. and lastly You think I would leave the fight for Gothams soul up to a hand to hand battle with you.....No no no you must always have an ace in the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't rave enough about Heath Ledger as the Joker he's no Jack Nicholson but man he was amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-854562112630835946?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/854562112630835946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=854562112630835946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/854562112630835946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/854562112630835946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/07/rip-joker.html' title='R.I.P.  Joker'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4003757261044297287</id><published>2008-07-25T03:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T03:57:52.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desperate</title><content type='html'>I'm at a loss. I can't imagine that I'm so out of touch with you that all of these things that I'm feeling are just that.....feelings. You keep telling me it's all in my head, but I know that this is not the case. It's the gamble I took opening up to you. I layed me heart out there. Truly expressed what I felt inside. I thought I could trust you. If you're leaving I wont stand in the way. I just don't want to be the last one to know. I must ask though why put me through all of this. Why put us through all of this to then turn and walk away.....The very thing you were afraid someone would to do you, you're doing to us! Normally I would back out now you know cut my losses before it becomes to much. it's different this time though I've invested so much. No matter what the outcome is there will be great damage, great loss. So I'm going to try things differently this time, actually give this my all. If nothing else I can grow from the expirence. The expirence really.....is that all you are. I'm so desperate for answers to questions only you can answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4003757261044297287?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4003757261044297287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4003757261044297287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4003757261044297287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4003757261044297287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/07/desperate.html' title='Desperate'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-8710070831927582782</id><published>2008-07-20T00:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T00:41:36.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back With A Story to Tell</title><content type='html'>My recent abscense can be blamed on myspace(which I never knew was so addicting), live journal, and my ever "juicy" love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found lately that every relationship I am in changes me. Sometimes in a big way and sometimes in ways so small I don't notice until much later. In my current relationship the M word has come up. You know the one Marriage....yeah thats it. Yet this time I didn't completly reject the ideal of marriage like so many times before. I gave it a timeline, which many find cliche. It's what I need though to decide whats right for me. So at the tender age of twenty five I may be married and relocating states. WoW! I will give more details about the lucky Mister in a blog entry some other time. Maybe even post a pic ooh la la! I've never expirenced a love that isn't cumbersome until now! Even when the clouds come and block out the sun. I want nothing more than to be by his side.....I love the way that feels!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-8710070831927582782?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/8710070831927582782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=8710070831927582782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8710070831927582782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8710070831927582782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-back-with-story-to-tell.html' title='I&apos;m Back With A Story to Tell'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-930374219098868239</id><published>2008-01-29T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T18:44:31.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something New</title><content type='html'>First off let me say even though the title of this post is awfully cliche it's appropriate. I've come to the realization that living in the past is not living at all. Yet I hold the past so dearly because I'm comfortable there. This so called comfort must be disrupted. I have been given the opportunity by a truly special person to live for today. Actually enjoy life as it occurs not remembering times when it was good. I must admit I'm nervous it's been awhile since I ventured out into the real world. I'm putting myself out there so you better be worth it. Just Playing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-930374219098868239?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/930374219098868239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=930374219098868239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/930374219098868239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/930374219098868239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/01/something-new.html' title='Something New'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-3583035538402266837</id><published>2008-01-23T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T14:48:24.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Affliction</title><content type='html'>I think of you constantly&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I write your name over and over again&lt;br /&gt;Finally my hands cramp from my tireless chore&lt;br /&gt;and then I read my work aloud &lt;br /&gt;line by line&lt;br /&gt;line by line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have taken me over&lt;br /&gt;I'm so encompassed by you.&lt;br /&gt;Hours go by like seconds&lt;br /&gt;Months go by like weeks.&lt;br /&gt;All spent on daydreaming&lt;br /&gt;and thinking of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never known how truly precious time is&lt;br /&gt;until I spent time with you.&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how the smallest act&lt;br /&gt;seems so grand if it's committed by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself smiling &lt;br /&gt;from thoughts of you.&lt;br /&gt;The times we've shared plague me.&lt;br /&gt;....and yes plague is the right word.&lt;br /&gt;because even though I feel all these things for you&lt;br /&gt;You conceal your thoughts&lt;br /&gt;your feelings&lt;br /&gt;your emotion from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day I will earn your trust&lt;br /&gt;and then you to will suffer my&lt;br /&gt;affliction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-3583035538402266837?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/3583035538402266837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=3583035538402266837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3583035538402266837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3583035538402266837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-affliction.html' title='My Affliction'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-440000104715405668</id><published>2008-01-22T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:05:23.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess Who's Back</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year and all that jazz. I know I'm late but I've been in a pretty isolated state. One in which I've reached out to family and friends more so than ever. I've learned how truly dependent I am on my loved ones. I used up their time so selfishly because I couldn't get enough. The love and protection that exude from them is all I was ever searching for. It's funny that all I needed was right there all along, but the lifestyle I chose to live pushed me further and further from them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far in the new year I've found new love which is always a fun expirence. I've got it all....the butterflies in the stomach, the girlish laughter, hours of day dreaming, and tons of cuddling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly I would like to share my new years resolution: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be the best friend I can be to those who call me friend. Yes that means to all of you have complained that I never have time for you; that has been adressed and you will become tired of the endless phone calls you will recieve from me. I can never get back the time we lost and this I truly regret. Lets enjoy 08 together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-440000104715405668?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/440000104715405668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=440000104715405668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/440000104715405668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/440000104715405668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2008/01/guess-whos-back.html' title='Guess Who&apos;s Back'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-7345308844681216633</id><published>2007-10-18T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T11:19:08.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you've seen the latest rendition of Peter Pan. It's not necessary for one to have viewed the movie for you to understand my sentiments.At the end of the movie Peter defeats Captain Hook by repeating the phrase "OLD, ALONE, DONE FOR"! Hook finally gives in and repeats this phrase as confirmation of his defeat. Hook who had just learned how to fly begins to sink rapidly. He then meets his final fate which is to be eaten by an alligator (you know the one the has the ticking belly). Even though Hook and Pan are fairytale creatures Hook's demise mirror's my own. I feel as though I'm sinking rapidly into nothingness. I'm so jealous of youth these days, living their lives care free. No real responsibilities, no worries about finance or finding someone suitable to start a family with. The fact of the matter is as my birthday gets near I'm beginning to feel very old, alone, and done for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-7345308844681216633?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/7345308844681216633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=7345308844681216633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7345308844681216633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7345308844681216633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/10/future.html' title='The Future'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-3071378969898980128</id><published>2007-10-17T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T18:02:26.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Blues</title><content type='html'>So it's less than a month to my birthday and I still don't have any definant plans. This will never do! I have a ton of things I want to do, and hopefully I will get to do at least three of them. I mean I have the whole week off from work PAID! To Do List will follow in a later blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-3071378969898980128?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/3071378969898980128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=3071378969898980128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3071378969898980128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3071378969898980128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/10/birthday-blues.html' title='Birthday Blues'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-141262640718489785</id><published>2007-10-16T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T17:50:22.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Life</title><content type='html'>So I've been transferred to a new department at work. Today was the first day working my new schedule. I've been quoted saying I'm game for whatever at least I still have my job. I'm not so sure if these are my true sentiments......Life can't ever be normal for me just when things are going good......it never fails.....NEVER FAILS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-141262640718489785?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/141262640718489785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=141262640718489785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/141262640718489785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/141262640718489785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/10/work-life.html' title='Work Life'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1512946884288444104</id><published>2007-10-02T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T11:44:59.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anticipation</title><content type='html'>You know how you get that feeling that something major is about to go down. It nags at you constantly, and unless your blessed with clairvoyance or some other gift of foresight, it smacks you right in the heart of things. &lt;br /&gt;I usually blame karma, for the unknown "occurrences" that take place throughout my life. This leads me to the new event that is unfolding in my life. I have so many new decisions to make and no clue where to start. I'm unsure of everything, and terrified of making the wrong decision. I wait in agonizing anticipation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1512946884288444104?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1512946884288444104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1512946884288444104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1512946884288444104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1512946884288444104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/10/anticipation.html' title='Anticipation'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-5365287465666445362</id><published>2007-09-30T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T14:50:21.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The newest life lesson I have learned is, to truly love someone you have to love without conditions. Just love. I understand why my grandmother loves each member of our family equally. No matter your statue, whether you've made all the right decisions in life or all of the wrong ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get it now why my mother is my best friend. No matter how much our opinions differ she has been my rock, the solid foundation she has provided me is the greatest gift of all time. It feels so good to know that no matter what I do she will always be there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have begun to understand why I have a need to be there for someone I choose to refer to as person A. Person A and I have been friends for quite some time. It's close to five years. Over the years we have had our good times and bad like any normal friendship. The thing is the entire time we have been friends Ive had to try and justify why I am friends with this person. My family and friends all question me constantly. I could never really explain it to them why this friendship meant so much to me. I'm starting though now to get it, and it feels really good. Good that I didn't let others convince me to give up on someone I truly care for. Yes person A is not perfect, but no one is. As our friendship grows I learn who I truly am and furthermore that I actually like who I am. This is healthy for me, because for quite sometime I've been feeling like I lost myself. &lt;br /&gt;So to person A I want to say you're always thanking me for being there for you and telling me how wonderful I am, but it's you who is truly the amazing one. I will enjoy the next five years and five more after that. I'm sure our friendship will last a lifetime, and I thank you for that..............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but marvel how different our world would be if folks really loved as many people as they claim to love..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-5365287465666445362?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/5365287465666445362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=5365287465666445362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5365287465666445362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5365287465666445362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/newest-life-lesson-i-have-learned-is-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4616296987278259107</id><published>2007-09-28T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T21:10:47.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My earlier post is really my current state of mind, so much so that I forgot to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY SERENA! I hope your special day is blessed and I love you. See ya later it's gonna be one hell of a party girl.I think it will be just what the doctor ordered. I just hope there wont be hella drama like last year. Do you remember that? How could one forget I thought the three musketeers would be no more. But all is well that ends well or some other cliche. Love ya big sis and HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4616296987278259107?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4616296987278259107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4616296987278259107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4616296987278259107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4616296987278259107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-earlier-post-is-really-my-current.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-2731572904865269827</id><published>2007-09-28T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T21:11:10.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whole Again</title><content type='html'>I can't stand it when you fall for a guy and he doesn't feel the same way about you. Especially when you thought you both felt something,and you end up giving your self to that person. The situation you're now placed in causes you to act completely out of character. Such reckless behavior is dangerous for numerous reasons. Your emotions are all out of control, you end up exhibiting bi-polar like behaviors. The worst part is you can't really express to that person all that you feel because you know they could care less. Which hurts like all hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let there be another woman involved. Your self esteem will be no more. You'll start rationalizing and comparing yourself to her. Doing your best to determine why she's the one and not you. It's a vicious cycle, you'll find the things you don't like about yourself are vast in number. This leads to depression and other dangerous behavioral issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do you get over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you become whole again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-2731572904865269827?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/2731572904865269827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=2731572904865269827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2731572904865269827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2731572904865269827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/whole-again.html' title='Whole Again'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-433890190191913797</id><published>2007-09-25T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:25:48.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have U Eva</title><content type='html'>Have you ever loved somebody so much&lt;br /&gt;It makes you cry&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever needed something so bad&lt;br /&gt;You can't sleep at night&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever tried to find the words&lt;br /&gt;But they don't come out right&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever,have you ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been in love&lt;br /&gt;Been in love so bad&lt;br /&gt;You'd do anything to make them understand&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had someone steal your heart away &lt;br /&gt;You'd give anything up to make them feel the same&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever searched for words to get you in their heart&lt;br /&gt;But you don't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;And you don't know where to start &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever loved somebody so much&lt;br /&gt;It makes you cry &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever needed something so bad&lt;br /&gt;You can't sleep at night &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever tried to find the words&lt;br /&gt;But they don't come out right &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever,have you ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever found the one &lt;br /&gt;You've dreamed of all your life &lt;br /&gt;You'd do just about anything to look into their eyes &lt;br /&gt;Have you finally found the one you've given your heart to&lt;br /&gt;Only to find that one won't give their heart to you &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever closed your eyes and&lt;br /&gt;Dreamed that they were there&lt;br /&gt;And all you can do is wait for that day &lt;br /&gt;when they will care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever loved somebody so much&lt;br /&gt;It makes you cry &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever needed something so bad&lt;br /&gt;You can't sleep at night &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever tried to find the words&lt;br /&gt;But they don't come out right &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever,have you ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I gotta do to get you in my arms baby&lt;br /&gt;What do I gotta say to get to your heart&lt;br /&gt;To make you understand how I need you next to me &lt;br /&gt;Gotta get you in my world &lt;br /&gt;'Cuz baby I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-433890190191913797?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/433890190191913797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=433890190191913797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/433890190191913797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/433890190191913797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/have-u-eva.html' title='Have U Eva'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4593864223267116081</id><published>2007-09-25T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:15:23.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost Doesn't Count</title><content type='html'>Almost made ya love me&lt;br /&gt;Almost made ya cry&lt;br /&gt;Almost made ya happy, babe&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I didn't I&lt;br /&gt;You almost had me thinkin'&lt;br /&gt;You were turned around&lt;br /&gt;But everybody knows&lt;br /&gt;Almost doesn't count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost heard ya sayin'&lt;br /&gt;You were finally free&lt;br /&gt;What was always missin' for ya, babe&lt;br /&gt;You found it in me&lt;br /&gt;But you can't get to heaven&lt;br /&gt;Half off the ground&lt;br /&gt;Everybody knows&lt;br /&gt;Almost doesn't count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep on lovin' you one foot outside the door&lt;br /&gt;I hear a funny hesitation of a heart that's never really sure&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep on tryin' if you're lookin' for more&lt;br /&gt;Than all that I could give you&lt;br /&gt;Than what ya came here for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna find me somebody&lt;br /&gt;Not afraid to let go&lt;br /&gt;Want a no doubt be there kind of man&lt;br /&gt;You came real close&lt;br /&gt;But everytime you built me up&lt;br /&gt;You only let me down&lt;br /&gt;But everybody knows, everybody knows, almost doesn't count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep on, baby&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep on tryin'&lt;br /&gt;Everybody knows almost doesn't count&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep on&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep on lovin' you one foot outside the door&lt;br /&gt;I hear a funny hesitation of a heart that's never, never really sure&lt;br /&gt;Can't keep on tryin' if you're lookin' for more&lt;br /&gt;Than all that I can give you&lt;br /&gt;Than what ya came here for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you'll be sorry&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you'll be cold&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you'll come runnin' back, babe, from the cruel, cruel world&lt;br /&gt;Almost convinced me&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna stick around&lt;br /&gt;But everybody knows, everybody knows almost doesn't count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe I'll be here&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll see you around&lt;br /&gt;That's the way it goes&lt;br /&gt;Almost doesn't count&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4593864223267116081?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4593864223267116081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4593864223267116081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4593864223267116081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4593864223267116081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/almost-doesnt-count.html' title='Almost Doesn&apos;t Count'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6095256326472443292</id><published>2007-09-05T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T08:20:01.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddy</title><content type='html'>Even though you're close, You are so far.&lt;br /&gt;Being held captive for crimes committed in the innocense of youth.&lt;br /&gt;You knew better but you wanted to fit in.&lt;br /&gt;Fit in to the soceity designed for your demise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss our talks, late night on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Remember how you use to try to use big words to impress me.&lt;br /&gt;My teasing you because you were younger than I,&lt;br /&gt;I used to have the best of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew you looked up to me,&lt;br /&gt;You told me so.&lt;br /&gt;What you didn't know was I looked up to you.&lt;br /&gt;Someone going through so much,&lt;br /&gt;and yet you smiled with such ease.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing will ever break your spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many memories flash through my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Our sleepovers, &lt;br /&gt;Your quick temper when you don't get what you want.&lt;br /&gt;Your smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until you come home.&lt;br /&gt;Our embrace will be long,&lt;br /&gt;Tears will acompany my words.&lt;br /&gt;I need to tell you,&lt;br /&gt;I have always loved you and I always will.&lt;br /&gt;You have a piece of my heart reserved just for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6095256326472443292?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6095256326472443292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6095256326472443292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6095256326472443292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6095256326472443292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/buddy.html' title='Buddy'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6237507123489205481</id><published>2007-09-02T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T11:33:53.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Piece of Me</title><content type='html'>I never been the type of person who doesn't befriend a person because someone else says not to. Actually the more I'm told about someone who has been "out casted" from the larger group, the more it makes me want to get to know that person for myself. This has been the case with me since I can remember. Actually a great deal of my best friends are those folks who were "out casted". They were labeled weird, nerds, crazy, two-faced, and more. I want to say I befriended these people because it's the right thing to do, that's not entirely true though. This is where my story begins....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started in the summer before eighth grade, dad got laid off from work. My mom sat my siblings and my myself down and expressed the financial situation our family would be facing until dad could find work again. My sisters and I sat and listened to mom and I remember thinking anything I could do to help I would. That night my sisters and I decided not to make so many messes and to keep our room clean. My older sister broke open her piggy bank and gave my parents all the money she had saved up from baby sitting and my younger sister and I pulled together our little change and we offered it to our parents. I will never forget the look on their faces. They told us to keep our money and that everything was going to be fine we just wouldn't be receiving as many luxuries as we used to. &lt;br /&gt;Everything was okay at first, then school started. Normally we would go shopping for back to school and get entire new wardrobes to match the current fashion. This year we could only get the clearance items which were no longer fashionable. I don't think my sister's and I cared much we were excited to be getting new clothes. This particular year Jordan's were the popular shoe. They started at one hundred dollars a pair. The baby girl was to young to care. I remember asking my older sister after the first day of school did she feel out of place cause she didn't have any Jordan's. She replied it was awful not only did she not have Jordan's but there was this new game kids were playing where they were going around checking the tags on people's clothing to see if it was name brand or not. Of course her clothes were not.&lt;br /&gt;The next day I was a victim of the tag checking game. My friends at the time teased me and others in our group who tags didn't display a designer's name. Our friend group was split in half. I was so upset, but I didn't want to tell my parents because I knew this would make them feel bad. The teasing went on for about a month then this game sort of faded away, though its effects didn't. &lt;br /&gt;I was no longer in the "popular" group, which composed of people I had been friends with since kindergarten. I was left to hang with the people who my old group of friends teased sometimes relentlessly. I was left in such a horrifying situation I've never felt so alone. I'm forever grateful for this experience because it taught me so much. &lt;br /&gt;People are so much more than what meets the eye. If you judge someones worth based on other's opinion, physical appearance, or even your first impression you will miss out on the opportunity to really get to know someone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6237507123489205481?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6237507123489205481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6237507123489205481' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6237507123489205481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6237507123489205481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/piece-of-me.html' title='A Piece of Me'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-5903485833691323954</id><published>2007-09-01T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T10:34:26.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Funny Story</title><content type='html'>A grandmother and her grandson are having a conversation. The grandson asks his grandmother why doesn't she have a boyfriend. The grandmother replies that her husband was the only man she could ever love. The grandson says yeah but it's been a long time since grandpa has passed away aren't you lonely. The grandma replies no, I have my television and you. One could say my television is my boyfriend. It cheers me up when I'm sad, it entertains me when I'm bored, and the spiritual programs nourish my soul. The grandson nods his head. The grandma turns the television on to catch one of her daytime programs. The picture has really poor quality so the grandma begins adjusting the television. After some time the picture doesn't improve so the grandma begins to hit the television. During this time the doorbell rings and the grandson goes to answer it. The reverend is at the door and inquires where the grandson's grandmother is. He replies upstairs banging her boyfriend. :))))))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter is truly nourishment for the soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-5903485833691323954?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/5903485833691323954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=5903485833691323954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5903485833691323954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5903485833691323954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/09/funny-story.html' title='A Funny Story'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4954878368572076016</id><published>2007-08-31T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T09:58:22.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dealing With Loss</title><content type='html'>This all started last Friday. I received a text message around eleven pm in which I was informed my play sister's mother had passed away. I have a thing about mothers because the women in my family are the back bone to my very existence. I was immediately grief stricken as if my own mother had passed. Next thing I know my phone is flying across the room and the flood of tears followed. My friend who watched this whole event unfold decided we needed to get some air so we went down to the marina. It's funny the calming effect water can have on a person. We sat in silence my heart heavy with grief the cool breeze from the ocean was my only comfort. When I felt the heaviness of sleep the follows a good cry we left the Marina and returned home. Upon our arrival I received the next blow. My younger sister's panicked voice was on the other line and at first I couldn't understand what she was trying to tell me. Then her words reached me "Grandma fell and cracked her head open. She is in the hospital getting stitches". I immediately started screaming No! This was all just a bad dream and I would wake up and no one would have passed away, grandma would be asleep safely in her bed where she was supposed to be. I fell off to sleep with a heavy heart. The next morning I awoke to face the horror that it was no dream the last twenty-four hours had actually happened. I don't deal with loss well even though death goes along with life I've never been able to accept it well. Then the third blow was struck yesterday I found out my play aunt had passed away. She lived alone and ended up having a stroke which ended her life. The worst part about this is her body was found yesterday but she had been dead over a week without anyone knowing. After this news I collapsed into my mother's arms. I've never felt such pain physically even though nothing physical happened to me. I know I will get through this but it's so hard. I will miss my play aunt immensely, and I can't help but feel if I would have stopped by to check on her maybe this wouldn't have happened. I will do any thing I can for my play sister. Her loss is so great, but so is the love around her. I feel so blessed that my grandmother is still with me and has begun to heal. I will cherish the time we have left together........It's true what they say Nothing Lasts Forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4954878368572076016?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4954878368572076016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4954878368572076016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4954878368572076016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4954878368572076016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/08/dealing-with-loss.html' title='Dealing With Loss'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1367010958629612121</id><published>2007-07-12T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T21:05:20.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MOODY BLUES</title><content type='html'>If I could &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;describe&lt;/span&gt; the way I feel right now it would be the image of a pit bull with his sharp teeth showing as he growls at his annoyance. I don't know if u know pits but trust me if there trained in a certain fashion it doesn't take much to annoy them. I have been so moody lately, and it's really affecting everyone. I can't help it though, I am officially pissed o-f-f! When I get like this only one person can bring me back to a normal state of mind and that's my grand mama! If the folks who have been having to deal with me could comment they would say well go see her a.s.a.p. And if u don't u might meet ur maker sooner than u were supposed to. In response to that I would say GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!! That would at least be the initial response before a slew of curse words and threats. It's sad though cause I'm really just crying out for attention. I've been conditioned though that it's weak to call a friend and say comfort me. So instead I piss them all off purposely cause it ensures they will pay me attention at least long to ask what the hell is wrong with me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1367010958629612121?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1367010958629612121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1367010958629612121' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1367010958629612121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1367010958629612121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/07/moody-blues.html' title='MOODY BLUES'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6786897149236604110</id><published>2007-07-08T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T09:50:45.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Remembering&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;U make me remember him,&lt;br /&gt;u really make me remember him.&lt;br /&gt;The way we were and the way we are now.&lt;br /&gt;How we began and how we ended.&lt;br /&gt;Even your mannerisms match his.&lt;br /&gt;I ask myself over and over,&lt;br /&gt;How did I find him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U smile like him.&lt;br /&gt;The way your eyes light up,&lt;br /&gt;it's as if the sun is dancing off them.&lt;br /&gt;Your lips part ever so slightly,&lt;br /&gt;and the corners of your mouth indent seemingly forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U laugh like him.&lt;br /&gt;The most contagious laughter I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;Especially when your cracking up.&lt;br /&gt;It's borderline obnoxious.&lt;br /&gt;But it's the best.&lt;br /&gt;Especially if it's from a personal joke between us two.&lt;br /&gt;We could laugh forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U show your anger like him.&lt;br /&gt;It's never hard to tell when your upset.&lt;br /&gt;There is a complete personality change within you.&lt;br /&gt;It's like a care bear morphing into a wear wolf with a thirst for blood.&lt;br /&gt;You are now on the hunt for your foe.&lt;br /&gt;They better be ready because there is no stopping your recklessness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U hurt me the same as he does.&lt;br /&gt;Never on purpose, you care far too much for that.&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless I'm wounded regularly.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I saw myself the way you see me things would be easier.&lt;br /&gt;I have very little self-worth and this pisses you off.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully you wont give up on me.&lt;br /&gt;I need you now more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U have my heart the same as he does.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I could live without you.&lt;br /&gt;Your a very special part of me,&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm so sensitive,&lt;br /&gt;and hide everything from you.&lt;br /&gt;I'm scarred if you really get to know all there is to know&lt;br /&gt;You will no longer want to know me.&lt;br /&gt;Then you'll suffer from the same symptoms I do daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U remind me of him I swear you do.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought we could be so close&lt;br /&gt;On the surface one would think were nothing alike.&lt;br /&gt;But underneath it all we are one in the same.&lt;br /&gt;Your my friend same as he,&lt;br /&gt;I love you both dearly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6786897149236604110?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6786897149236604110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6786897149236604110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6786897149236604110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6786897149236604110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/07/u-make-me-remember-him-u-really-make-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1540628656881826521</id><published>2007-07-08T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T09:05:01.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With This Ring I Thee Wed</title><content type='html'>Weddings are such beautiful ceremonies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I attended my older sister's best friend wedding and it was something to see. The wedding definitely didn't start off traditionally. The groom's mother held everything up with a arrival that was almost an hour behind schedule. She then boasted this was intentional because the union of her son and his chosen bride she wanted nothing to do with. She was purposely trying to start arguments with anyone who was trying to make the wedding a success. To make a long story short she was successful in upsetting the bride so much that she was ready to call the wedding off. The groom was standing at the alter the entire time and was clueless about the situation taking place. The bridal party and us "lady's" who were there for support surrounded the bride and tried to do damage control as quickly as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom's grandmother saved the day with these words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Baby today is your day and don't let nobody take that from you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are all here to celebrate the love you have found with my grandson, not his mother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; You go out there with your head held high and you marry your soul mate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Your love has stood the test of time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; including two beautiful children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Baby go out there and marry the man god sent to you". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The bride was still shaken up but the ceremony was back on. The bride took advice given by her grandmother-n-law and held her head high as she glided down the isle to her groom's awaiting side. She looked like a beautiful princess. I've never seen her look so awe strikingly beautiful. It wasn't the dress or the elaborate hair and make up that made her so beautiful. It was the warmth radiating from her heart, it gave her this supernatural glow. The groom didn't seem quite as excited as the bride but I think it was just nerves. Even though he missed all the drama at the wedding he knew his mother's point of view about his choice of bride. When he said his vows though you could tell he was speaking from the heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The best part of the wedding for me had to be when the bride had a dance with their six year old son. Their dance didn't leave a dry eye in the room. It was so special to see that bond between not only mother and child but a mother and her first born. The bride's son didn't look nervous or anything he just looked up into his mother's eyes and smiled. Then came the groom's dance with the newlywed's youngest child. He danced with their 10 month old daughter to Ribbon in the Sky by Stevie Wonder. It was so special she cooed and smiled the entire dance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me knows how scarred of marriage I am. Even though I seen many successful marriages I'm not sure if I have what it takes to be married and uphold everything that marriage stands for.Lately though I'm starting to get over that fear. I've begun leaning towards the feeling that if you truly love someone then marriage is going to be a celebration of that love. The Reverend at the wedding said it best:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; "Getting married doesn't make you husband and wife, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it's the actions you take now that you married that will make or break your marriage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To truly be wed to one another this young couple will have to put the time and effort into building a union that is solid, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and will transcend space and time". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the Reverends final piece of advice to be interesting. He closed saying,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"keep everybody out yo business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; When your unhappy with your mate don't go tellin all your friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That is the quickest way to put a crack in the solid foundation your trying to build".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was so interesting to me because another reverend said almost the exact same thing at my cousin's wedding earlier this year. I wonder how many marriages and relationships in general fall apart because folks can communicate with everyone else but each other?!??!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1540628656881826521?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1540628656881826521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1540628656881826521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1540628656881826521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1540628656881826521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/07/with-this-ring-i-thee-wed.html' title='With This Ring I Thee Wed'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1996228034865142568</id><published>2007-06-28T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T09:46:37.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Again</title><content type='html'>WOW!! It's been a really long time since I have posted anything. I was going to wait and try to catch up on all the "goings-on" concerning me, but that's just not gonna work. I've realized something about me though which is something new happens everyday. No wonder I'm lost in my own world half of the time. I had to check in today to post something in particular.Since the first time I heard this song I loved it but it's taken on a new meaning for me recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ANOTHER AGAIN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So we did it again&lt;br /&gt;Knowing we should quit it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; but we simply won’t admit it again&lt;br /&gt;Oh it feels good,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; it’s so good, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but I won’t do it again&lt;br /&gt;It’s so dramatic again&lt;br /&gt;After we go at it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; we get mad then we go at it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh I love it, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;then I hate it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; she’s my favorite again&lt;br /&gt;I’m wasting time&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help it she’s so fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh I like her style&lt;br /&gt;And I love the way she talks and I smile&lt;br /&gt;As much as we may try&lt;br /&gt;Can’t quite see eye to eye&lt;br /&gt;So in the meantime, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I guess we say bye-bye&lt;br /&gt;(And again and again and again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, and then, we do it again&lt;br /&gt;We do it again and we do it again&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and then, we do it again&lt;br /&gt;We want it again,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; and we want it again&lt;br /&gt;So we fake it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think we’re gonna blow it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; and we know it&lt;br /&gt;But she’s naked again&lt;br /&gt;We get wasted,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; then I taste it, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;then I waste it again&lt;br /&gt;I can’t invite her again&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause she’ll go from a lover to a fighter&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll fight her again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So it’s over, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but I told her to come over again&lt;br /&gt;I’m wasting time&lt;br /&gt;But she’s always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;I can’t let her go&lt;br /&gt;Oh, she’s not the best, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but she’s all that I know&lt;br /&gt;As much as we may try&lt;br /&gt;Can’t quite see eye to eye&lt;br /&gt;So in the meantime I guess we say bye-bye&lt;br /&gt;(And again and again and again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, and then, we do it again&lt;br /&gt;We do it again and we do it again&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and then, we do it again&lt;br /&gt;We want it again, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and we want it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I’ve got a new friend&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could forget you&lt;br /&gt;But I miss you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;wanna kiss you again&lt;br /&gt;She’s like you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but she’s not you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; gotta find you again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So we remember again&lt;br /&gt;The middle of December and I took you out to dinner again&lt;br /&gt;Oh I love her,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; it’s not over, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;just another again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(And again and again and again)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it’s another again---&lt;br /&gt;I love her, it’s another again…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1996228034865142568?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1996228034865142568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1996228034865142568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1996228034865142568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1996228034865142568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/06/hello-again.html' title='Hello Again'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-5759527520367801529</id><published>2007-05-16T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T11:00:31.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL SMILES</title><content type='html'>Last night my x-boyfriend took my mom out to the movies to see spider man 3. They invited me to go along too of course but something told me they needed to go alone. Especially since he invited her to go, and not me. I knew the movies were a cover cause we have been talking about getting back together, but he knows he's got to make things right with the family first. I should have sent my younger sister with them so she could have been my informant, but knowing her she wouldn't have told me anything enjoying the pleasure of knowing I was sittin at home on pins and needles wanting to know everything they were talkin bout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to wait up until twelve this morning for them to arrive then I ran upstairs to my bed and pretended like I had been sleeping. My X came to my room and thought he was shaking me awake. I could have gotten an oscar for my acting skills. I slowly pretended to awake then faked being startled to see him. He was smiling down at me and said "I didn't wanna wake you but I had to come tell you I love you and I always will." Then he tucked me into bed and kissed me on the forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't sleep much last night from a mixture of excitement and pondering what in the world my mother had told him when I called him to say good morning he asked me not to go to work today and to come see him instead. I told him I couldn't, but that we would hang soon. He says we need to talk about us, I'm trying not to get too excited cause I don't wanna get all worked up to get let down, but I think this might be it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-5759527520367801529?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/5759527520367801529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=5759527520367801529' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5759527520367801529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5759527520367801529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/05/all-smiles.html' title='ALL SMILES'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-8237312611103028547</id><published>2007-05-05T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T16:16:36.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's the Void in my Life</title><content type='html'>I miss being your girl, truly I do. Sometimes it's so hard for me to enjoy our salvaged friendship because I want so much more for us. Thats the problem though I want it, you don't. We've gone over what broke us up time and time again and we both seem to agree we were good together. Yet when ever I bring up us trying to get back together you always reply why can't I be happy with what we have. The answer to this question I don't have the courage to tell you because you make me wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't want to keep crying and upsetting you with my broken heart so I don't tell you that I love everything about you. Even the things that get on my nerves because they are apart of you. I don't tell you how there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you and wonder what you're doing at that exact moment. How the scent of your favorite cologne fills my nostrils at the most random times and I find myself turning about to see if you're near. It absolutely does not help that my family still adores you, they act as if nothing bad ever happended between us.  I mean my mom still calls you her son, and my dad asks about you and your wellfare weekly. I no longer lash out at them for caring for you still, I understand it better now. They are like me they can't get over you. It's like I told you I will never love another the way I love you, you are my first love, my first real heart ache,and my first regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-8237312611103028547?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/8237312611103028547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=8237312611103028547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8237312611103028547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8237312611103028547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/05/hes-void-in-my-life.html' title='He&apos;s the Void in my Life'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6170922087627225673</id><published>2007-05-05T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T11:19:21.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumbled</title><content type='html'>There are so many things racing through my mind that I want to blog but can't. For one I can't stay focused on one ideal long enough to convey it, and two the exhaustion and fatigue of working through my weekend has caught up with me.....Not to mention the partying and new found fun with legal consumption of alcoholic beverages. House margaritas at Luca's lounge are the best....The hangovers that follow I could do without.....:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6170922087627225673?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6170922087627225673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6170922087627225673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6170922087627225673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6170922087627225673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/05/jumbled.html' title='Jumbled'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6040193231265236743</id><published>2007-04-26T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T08:59:43.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Deal</title><content type='html'>Lately I marvel at how I tend to deal with the things life throws my way. I asked a friend the other day why is it that I can never seem to stay depressed. I know there have been times where I've really felt down, but I always find ways to get over it. My friend responded I have a marvelous way of coping with things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thought about this for some time and what I've come up with is I've been brainwashed into telling myself I'm okay when I'm not. There have been times where I know the exact location of my heart because of the pains coursing through it, and I'm smiling and appear to be happier than ever on the outside. This is a very dangerous behavior because I never allow myself to experience raw emotion unless it's in the form of anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been times that the smallest thing causes such an over the top reaction from me it scares me. The only way I can calm myself down is to walk away, but the fact of the matter is I have to remove myself from the situation. It leaves me asking myself why am I so afraid to show other emotion? I know I don't want to thrive off of anger forever, but how does one change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember as a kid whatever I felt I expressed it. That's the true beauty of childhood. Then as I grew my conditioning began and in turn I lost my child hood more and more. My parents no longer thought my constant questioning everything was genuine. I was told I ask why too much. There was still so much i didn't understand....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm an adult I'm all screwed up. There are times I want to cry because I'm experiencing hurt, but I don't because I've been taught crying is weak.  I see others being hurt by my actions and pretend not to care, blaming it on my defense mechanisms.....Hey it's what society has taught me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too bad that in the world we live in today treating someone as you want to be treated makes you a social outcast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6040193231265236743?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6040193231265236743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6040193231265236743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6040193231265236743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6040193231265236743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/how-to-deal.html' title='How to Deal'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-7618546959304703685</id><published>2007-04-19T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T21:45:53.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Confession</title><content type='html'>Baby I have something to tell you,&lt;br /&gt;You might want to take a seat.&lt;br /&gt;How do I right a wrong,&lt;br /&gt;A wrong I never thought I was able to commit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I swear I hear your heart breaking,&lt;br /&gt; I wish there was an easy way to mend it.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know my love for you was always true.&lt;br /&gt;Not that it means much now to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can't take the way your voice quivers,&lt;br /&gt;Every time you ask me why,&lt;br /&gt;Why I had to do this to us.&lt;br /&gt;Never you, always us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby do you remember the good times?&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you had a hard day I'd take you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;Doing my best to comfort you,&lt;br /&gt;Putting your sole at rest.&lt;br /&gt;I want to take you in my arms now,&lt;br /&gt;But I don't....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I have never seen you cry,&lt;br /&gt;But now every time I look into your once strong eyes&lt;br /&gt;They are always filled with hurt.&lt;br /&gt;It's there I see the manifestation of my betrayal&lt;br /&gt;Mocking my despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I want to ask for one more chance,&lt;br /&gt;A chance to continue our journey together.&lt;br /&gt;Staying true to our bond of forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby please hold your head up,&lt;br /&gt;Don't let it hang low with shame.&lt;br /&gt;It is I who carries the blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I pray I have not broken your heart forever.&lt;br /&gt;You deserve someone so much better.&lt;br /&gt;A woman who appreciates your everything.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who can be with you and only you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby you tell me over and over again,&lt;br /&gt;You don't deserve this.&lt;br /&gt;On this baby we agree.&lt;br /&gt;You should have known better....&lt;br /&gt;than to fall in love with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-7618546959304703685?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/7618546959304703685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=7618546959304703685' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7618546959304703685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7618546959304703685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/scariest-thing-ive-ever-expirenced.html' title='My Confession'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6218889166719520792</id><published>2007-04-17T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T22:18:02.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somebody Once Said</title><content type='html'>Somebody told me being with you is taking a step backwards.&lt;br /&gt;I responded that's funny cause when I'm with you, we focus on going forward.&lt;br /&gt;Somebody told me the past always repeats itself, with that same tired line,&lt;br /&gt;"Once a dog, always a dog.&lt;br /&gt;I responded I haven't seen any signs of fleas yet.&lt;br /&gt;Somebody told me you are all wrong for me and I deserve better.&lt;br /&gt;I responded I know your giving me your best.&lt;br /&gt;That's what matters above all else.&lt;br /&gt;Somebody told me this as their final plea,&lt;br /&gt; " Watch for the signs and make the right decision".&lt;br /&gt;I guess I let them down cause I stayed by your side.&lt;br /&gt;Somebody told me I had made the wrong choice.....&lt;br /&gt;it never really mattered until somebody became you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6218889166719520792?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6218889166719520792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6218889166719520792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6218889166719520792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6218889166719520792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/somebody-once-said.html' title='Somebody Once Said'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-8393352150020702227</id><published>2007-04-17T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T22:07:46.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is my god daughter's birthday and her dad actually came to the family dinner. The first time in fourteen years. I mean it's better late than never, at least that's what the old folks say. It was very uneasy having him there especially for her. When I arrived at the dinner she was placed at the head of the table between her parents and it wasn't until she lead the blessing of the food that I saw her smile. I wonder what was going on through her head....I've never seen her so uncomfortable! I know I'm not over reacting because my mom a.k.a my conscience caught wind of her discomfort too.&lt;br /&gt;I was pissed at her mom for paying so much attention to her ex-lover, especially on Nikki's day, but who am I to judge my girl's behavior. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;awkward&lt;/span&gt; for the three of them that was obvious but at least this day finally came.&lt;br /&gt;I know Nicole has never felt unloved but there is nothing like the bond between a father and a daughter....&lt;br /&gt;Now that I got all that out the way I enjoyed my three alcoholic beverages which did the trick. I was the social butterfly of the table....I just hope Nikki wasn't too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-8393352150020702227?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/8393352150020702227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=8393352150020702227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8393352150020702227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/8393352150020702227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/today-is-my-god-daughters-birthday-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-6249232938143773971</id><published>2007-04-17T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T21:54:27.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Failure starts with F</title><content type='html'>I feel as though if I pour out my heart to you,&lt;br /&gt; my words will fall upon ears not willing to listen.&lt;br /&gt;Because these particular ears are purposely being deafened by your self righteousness,&lt;br /&gt; and a lack of compassion for my short comings.&lt;br /&gt;I want to scream out to you,&lt;br /&gt; "take me in your arms and hold me close".&lt;br /&gt;I need to feel your embrace.&lt;br /&gt;A sense of comfort that all will be well.&lt;br /&gt;Yet... even your slightest touch burns me so.&lt;br /&gt;My heart aches from the pain&lt;br /&gt; and my throat swells from holding back the tears.&lt;br /&gt;Apart of me feels this was all avoidable....&lt;br /&gt;I should have never let you get so close.&lt;br /&gt;But the fact of the mater is you've entered my world,&lt;br /&gt; and now I don't want to let you go.&lt;br /&gt;So what's this girl to do?&lt;br /&gt;My heart is broken cause I've failed at another relationship,&lt;br /&gt;Only this time it's worse than ever before.&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's the most intimate relationship of them all....&lt;br /&gt;I failed at friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-6249232938143773971?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/6249232938143773971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=6249232938143773971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6249232938143773971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/6249232938143773971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/failure-starts-with-f.html' title='Failure starts with F'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-2914199609064181543</id><published>2007-04-14T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T14:22:33.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had the hardest time ever getting up for work this morning. I think the only thing that allowed me to drag myself into the work place was I know I wont have to go for the next two days. Work has been my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;escape&lt;/span&gt; from the unrest in my life at the moment....but I think I'm ready to take on that headache &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;instead&lt;/span&gt;. I can't keep running forever, and the worst case scenario would be work would stay at it's present state and my outside life finally broke through the walls of protection work provides. I can't say I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; shut everyone out. Their some essential folks in my life right now that I would have perished a long time ago with out, but there is so much I avoid and so many I don't hang out with. Who I really have started to miss, including myself. It's about time I make time for what's really important to me, and stop offering myself as a human &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sacrifice&lt;/span&gt; to the masses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-2914199609064181543?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/2914199609064181543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=2914199609064181543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2914199609064181543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2914199609064181543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-had-hardest-time-ever-getting-up-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4689273970611318214</id><published>2007-04-14T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T12:16:26.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everytime</title><content type='html'>Do you think of me when you close your eyes to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;You know that moment when your body is at complete relaxation,&lt;br /&gt;what runs through your mind.&lt;br /&gt;'Cause whenever I lay my head on the pillow for a good nights rest,&lt;br /&gt;There is only one thing on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;you my dear,&lt;br /&gt;it's always you.&lt;br /&gt;I think of your smile and contagious laughter.&lt;br /&gt;I hear your voice as if your whispering in my ear.&lt;br /&gt;I see your face, with those soul penetrating eyes.&lt;br /&gt;I feel your touch,&lt;br /&gt;always in the form of a slow caress.&lt;br /&gt;And as I fall asleep,&lt;br /&gt;I smile and whisper your name................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4689273970611318214?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4689273970611318214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4689273970611318214' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4689273970611318214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4689273970611318214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/everytime.html' title='Everytime'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4837247847895810586</id><published>2007-04-10T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T14:45:55.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Couldn't Have Said it Better Myself</title><content type='html'>Here I give you a little food for thought......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;--Marcus Aurelius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-- Mother Teresa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends will keep you sane, Love could fill your heart, A lover can warm your bed, But lonely is the soul without a mate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-- David Pratt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know someone who tries to drown their sorrows, you might tell them sorrows know how to swim. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and last but not least........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The darkest hour has only sixty minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; -- Unknown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4837247847895810586?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4837247847895810586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4837247847895810586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4837247847895810586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4837247847895810586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-couldnt-have-said-it-better-myself.html' title='I Couldn&apos;t Have Said it Better Myself'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4051450221004416185</id><published>2007-04-09T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T21:46:43.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gangsta's Paradise</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'ma&lt;/span&gt; "G"!&lt;br /&gt;I Live by the streets and I die by the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; Just the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; the way it will always B.&lt;br /&gt;                           -&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;anonymous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                  &lt;br /&gt; Hoods&lt;br /&gt; Where folks are subjected to gunshots ringing&lt;br /&gt;Where the laughter of children is silenced,&lt;br /&gt;by the drive-by gunner's singing.&lt;br /&gt; Speed bumps line every street, along with rival gangs "tags".&lt;br /&gt;Everybody worried about the body bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoods&lt;br /&gt;Where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Gangstas&lt;/span&gt; are in absolute control.&lt;br /&gt;You know them when you see them, they give you that glare.&lt;br /&gt;Daring you to return their stare.&lt;br /&gt;The goal is instant intimidation.&lt;br /&gt;A game of truth or dare&lt;br /&gt;Only one chance for redemption.&lt;br /&gt;Which choice is the best?&lt;br /&gt;Will you bow down to their authority,&lt;br /&gt;or be the next name on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; homicide quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoods&lt;br /&gt;A place where it's easy to make the seven o'clock news.&lt;br /&gt;Unless of course another wealthy white woman with large breast dies,&lt;br /&gt;Then it'll just be your family and friends in the pews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoods&lt;br /&gt;Are the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;remnants&lt;/span&gt; left of neighborhoods.&lt;br /&gt;Once prosperous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;communities&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Back when it was all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoods&lt;br /&gt;Need to be rebuilt into communities we can be proud of.&lt;br /&gt; The gangsta mentality can't continue infecting our youth&lt;br /&gt;there will be complete self &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;destruction&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;today's hoods are the proof.&lt;br /&gt;                                          -Lady S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4051450221004416185?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4051450221004416185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4051450221004416185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4051450221004416185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4051450221004416185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/gangstas-paradise.html' title='Gangsta&apos;s Paradise'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-2283337705493711503</id><published>2007-04-09T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T10:17:28.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Food for thought</title><content type='html'>I was having a conversation with a co-worker today and was left with this thought......Why do we fault those who can't do as we wish. Meaning they fall short on our expectations. The truth of the matter is my expectation of someone may completely differ from the expectations someone has for themselves........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-2283337705493711503?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/2283337705493711503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=2283337705493711503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2283337705493711503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/2283337705493711503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/food-for-thought.html' title='Food for thought'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-5614243113626241419</id><published>2007-04-09T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T10:12:03.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way Looseing Him Feels</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wish I could believe you then I'd be alright&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But now everything you told me really don't apply&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To the way I feel inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Loving you was easy once upon a time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But now my suspicions of you have multiplied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it's all because you lied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only give you a hard time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause I can't go on and pretend like&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I haven't tried to forget this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I'm much too full of resentment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just can't seem to get over the way you hurt me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't know how you gave another who didn't mean a thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The very thing you gave to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought I could forgive you and I know you've changed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As much as I wanna trust you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know it ain't the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it's all because you lied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only give you a hard time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I may never understand why&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm doing the best that I can and I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I tried and I tried to forget this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm much too full of resentment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll always remember feeling like I was no good&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like I couldn't do it for you like your mistress could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it's all because you lied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;              &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Loved you more than ever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;More than my own life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The best part of me I gave you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was sacrificed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it's all because you lied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;         &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only give you a hard time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause I can't go on and pretend like&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I tried and I tried to forget this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I'm too damn full of resentment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know she was attractive but I was here first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ridin&lt;/span&gt;' with you for six years &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;why did I deserve &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To be treated this way by you, you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know your probably thinking what's up with Bee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I been crying for too long &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what did you do to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I used to be so strong &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but now you took my soul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm crying &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cant stop crying &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cant stop crying&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You could of told me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that you wasn't happy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know you didn't wanna hurt me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But look what you have done to me now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I gotta look at her in her eyes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and see she's had half of me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How could you lie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-5614243113626241419?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/5614243113626241419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=5614243113626241419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5614243113626241419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/5614243113626241419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/way-looseing-him-feels.html' title='The Way Looseing Him Feels'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1365810262101375162</id><published>2007-04-07T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T17:30:54.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching Them Grow</title><content type='html'>Last night I got to spend quality time with my god-daughter Nicole(13) and my god-son Jordan(3). They have grown so much in the last few years it's amazing. Nicole has become such a young woman I can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; it. I remember the days when she was a newborn baby cooing in my arms. One of my favorite memories of her has to be when she was about two years old. Then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enjoying&lt;/span&gt; her new walking legs. As soon as her mother unstrapped her from her car seat she climbed out of the car and ran straight to me with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Those cute little white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sandals&lt;/span&gt; and her green dress with the yellow flowers....She has grown so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicole is now taller than me and gorgeous. I love the fact that her beauty hasn't changed her. She's still a sweet heart inside and out. She reminds me a lot of myself at her age. I just hope she survives &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; without to much blood shed ;). Her mother can't take it that her first born is no longer a baby she sounds so much like a parent when she refers to Nicole it's scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan has the most infectious laugh ever. My dad was playing peak-a-boo with him last night and he just laughed and laughed. His energy filled the entire room. I love children when they are at his age. They are so free....no question is too silly, whatever they observe they say. It was so cute last night we were watching the news and their was a clip of a train wreck. My mom made the comment "they are lucky only sixteen people died in a wreck like that" and Jordan turns from the television with this look of great concern on his face and says "yeah" to my mom's comment. No one even knew he was paying attention to what was on the t.v.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but feel bad for wanting to slow both Jordan and Nicole's growth but it seems like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I see them they've grown so much. I want them to enjoy their youth as much as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;possible&lt;/span&gt; cause we all know it wont last forever.......Wow I sound like my mom :)!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1365810262101375162?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1365810262101375162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1365810262101375162' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1365810262101375162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1365810262101375162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/watching-them-grow.html' title='Watching Them Grow'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-7150544801871672958</id><published>2007-04-06T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T22:32:45.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-7150544801871672958?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/7150544801871672958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=7150544801871672958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7150544801871672958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/7150544801871672958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post_06.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-4480498168149548093</id><published>2007-04-06T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T22:14:51.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why I'm Hot</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/7203/524238900481698/1600/z/600589/03-16-07_1404-790305.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/7203/524238900481698/320/z/179562/03-16-07_1404-790305.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-4480498168149548093?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/4480498168149548093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=4480498168149548093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4480498168149548093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/4480498168149548093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html' title='This is why I&apos;m Hot'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1487219064151929819</id><published>2007-04-06T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T21:48:00.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts on a Friday Night</title><content type='html'>I used to find self examination something I performed regularly and with great ease. You could catch me staring in the mirror for hours on end. There was once a time in years past when I truly enjoyed the person I was inside and out. Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I pass a mirror I might glance into it, not really wanting to engage in the task of looking at myself. Looking at the person I've become. I'm so full of contradictions that it kills me. I find myself fighting the real me constantly. Whether it's dumbing myself down cause "not every man can handle a woman so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;opinionated&lt;/span&gt;". Or biting my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tongue&lt;/span&gt; cause I don't want to offend someone. The worst is seeing someone being harmed and because the "in crowd" has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;outcasted&lt;/span&gt; them, that person no longer has feelings. It's now okay to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ostracize&lt;/span&gt; "the weak".&lt;br /&gt;I have never intentionally changed my behavior to fit in or to be popular, yet I have changed for reasons I'm still not proud of. Like not being so aggressive when I engage in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;competitive&lt;/span&gt; game with a male so his ego wont be harmed. Or not talking with my own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;vernacular&lt;/span&gt; cause it's been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;deemed&lt;/span&gt; ghetto by those who don't understand it. Those in power over those types of things. How in the world did I loose myself so fast......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1487219064151929819?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1487219064151929819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1487219064151929819' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1487219064151929819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1487219064151929819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/random-thoughts-on-friday-night.html' title='Random Thoughts on a Friday Night'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-1505340581700063190</id><published>2007-04-02T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T09:55:04.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Matters of the Heart</title><content type='html'>I can't believe what I'm about to say.&lt;br /&gt; It's only been twenty two years I've spent on this earth,&lt;br /&gt; and the last six have caused my condition.&lt;br /&gt;I don't get sick very often so it makes since the the ailement I have isn't easily cured.&lt;br /&gt; At this point you must be wondering what I have.&lt;br /&gt; First let me say I don't think it's contagious,&lt;br /&gt; and many who have suffered my ailement have been cured.&lt;br /&gt; All right here it is I have been diagnosed with a broken heart.&lt;br /&gt; Some of the symptoms of this condition are unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;You have pains that are so strong and come from so deep within, you become imobilized.&lt;br /&gt;You cry as though your eyes are not eyes at all but two waterfalls ever flowing.&lt;br /&gt;I find myself trying to remember good times,&lt;br /&gt;times of laughter and smiling to make it through the day.&lt;br /&gt; I feel as though nothing will mend it,&lt;br /&gt; and the worst part about it is knowing there is only one who holds the cure.&lt;br /&gt;I know now why I fought myself so hard when it came to loving another.&lt;br /&gt;When you give your heart it's not cherised as the precious gem that it is.&lt;br /&gt;It's tarnished over and over again until it becomes a blackened color.&lt;br /&gt;Each transgressor leaving their stain forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-1505340581700063190?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/1505340581700063190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=1505340581700063190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1505340581700063190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/1505340581700063190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/04/matters-of-heart.html' title='Matters of the Heart'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-3130368267486055045</id><published>2007-03-28T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:53:11.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of Friendship</title><content type='html'>I don't use the term friend lightly never have never will.&lt;br /&gt; To enter into a friendship with someone is to enter into an intimate relationship with someone of your choice.&lt;br /&gt; Someone whom you find you can't live without.&lt;br /&gt;Many of my friends have actually become more like family,&lt;br /&gt;creating an unconditional love that endures time, space, and hardship.&lt;br /&gt;I still can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; that my best friend from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kinder garden&lt;/span&gt; is still my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having friends is the greatest joy I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;Doing things like having entire conversations saying only a few words.&lt;br /&gt;Reminiscing on times past, and planning for the future.&lt;br /&gt;I've called on my friends through every bad time I've ever experienced,&lt;br /&gt;and can't say that I would have survived this far in my walks of life without them.&lt;br /&gt;So too any and all whom I call friend I just want to say.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for putting up with me over the years and for your gift of friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-3130368267486055045?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/3130368267486055045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=3130368267486055045' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3130368267486055045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3130368267486055045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/03/gift-of-friendship.html' title='The Gift of Friendship'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-3070212234448534716</id><published>2007-03-19T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T08:46:53.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The One i Gave My Heart Too</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"The One I Gave My Heart To"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My Heart To, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Break My Heart So Bad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One Who Made Me Happy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Make Me Feel So Sad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wont Somebody Tell Me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; So I Can Understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If You Love Me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Hurt Me Like That?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My World To,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Throw My World Away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One Who Said I Love You, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say The Things You Say?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Was So True Too, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just Tell Me Lies?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My Heart To,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Break This Heart Of Mine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tell Me........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Be So Cold To Me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; When I Gave You Everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All My Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All I Had Inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could you Just Walk Out The Door?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Not Love Me Anymore?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Thought We Had Forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Cant Understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Shared My Dreams With, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take My Dreams From me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The Love That Brought Such Pleasure, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bring Such Misery?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wont Somebody Tell Me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Somebody Tell Me Please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If You Love Me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Do That To Me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tell Me........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could you Just Walk Out The Door?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Not Love Me Anymore?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Thought We Had Forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Cant Understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My Heart To, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Break My Heart So Bad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One Who Made Me Happy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Make Me Feel So Sad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wont Somebody Tell Me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I Can Understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If You Love Me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could You Hurt Me Like That?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My World To, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Throw My World Away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One Who Said I Love You, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say The Things You Say?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Was So True Too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Just Tell Me Lies?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How Could The One I Gave My Heart To.....How Could The One I Gave My Heart To....How Could The One I Gave My Heart To Break This Heart of Mine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tell Me........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is this what LOVE is all about, cause if so count me OUT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-3070212234448534716?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/3070212234448534716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=3070212234448534716' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3070212234448534716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3070212234448534716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/03/one-i-gave-my-heart-too.html' title='The One i Gave My Heart Too'/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2607675431597252081.post-3017915989463988568</id><published>2007-03-01T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T08:27:54.531-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A man and a Scorpion'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesturday i was complaining about folks I work with to my friend. The individuals who were causing me distress I consider to be spoiled brats who care for nothing and no one but themselves. My friend shared the following story........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Man and the Scorpion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There was this town in which a major flood was about to occur&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and a man saw a scorpion would not survive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;if he were to stay where he was located.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So the man tries to relocate the scorpion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every attempt the man made at this relocation of the scorpion,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the scorpion stung him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This went on for quite some time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A passerby observed this man's actions and called out to him:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Why do you keep trying to help that scorpion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when you know all he's going to do is sting you".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The man replied &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Because I no harm will come to this scorpion if I don't help him."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The man passing by responded:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"What is the point of trying to save the scorpion when it does want to be saved".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The man replied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"It is not that the scorpion does not want to be saved,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it is that it is apart of his nature to sting."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Futhermore the man replied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"And it is in my nature to help those who need help,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;even when it may cause me to be stung."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I still feel the same way about my co-workers, yet this story offered  me comfort. Maybe they are just acting within their nature.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2607675431597252081-3017915989463988568?l=ladys8402.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/feeds/3017915989463988568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2607675431597252081&amp;postID=3017915989463988568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3017915989463988568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2607675431597252081/posts/default/3017915989463988568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladys8402.blogspot.com/2007/03/yesturday-i-was-complaining-about-folks.html' title=''/><author><name>Lady S</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09139970870142464314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
