<?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-10954068</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:03:50.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eye for an i ! !</title><subtitle type='html'>I see through the eyes of a very small child. I see through the eyes of lonely soul. I see through the eyes of a forgotten lover. I see through the eyes of a true friend. In all that I see, I filter these visions. Only leaving me blinded by a light of hate.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-112251749646584378</id><published>2005-07-27T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T19:24:56.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No one told me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/myvegashell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/myvegashell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3 energy drinks, pepto-bismol, a man that looked like Freakshow from Harold &amp; Kumar,  the middle of the desert. Vegas or Bust!! This was the longest ride of my life. I love you Martini!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-112251749646584378?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/112251749646584378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=112251749646584378' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112251749646584378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112251749646584378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/07/no-one-told-me.html' title='No one told me'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-112251594922013664</id><published>2005-07-27T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T18:59:09.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little pirate in us all</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/pirate.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/pirate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;2o fuckin' 7 ! ! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;To celebrate this glorious occassion, I was with 2 good friends, and the Captain. Now, when I spend time with the Captain, he always talks to me. He talked to me on Saturday, &amp; he said "Rrrrrrrrr, mate. Yer 20 fuckin' 7, Rrrrr! Have another sip of me spiced rum, Rrrr."  I can't say no to the Captain!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;This is the official "pirate's seal". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-112251594922013664?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/112251594922013664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=112251594922013664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112251594922013664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112251594922013664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/07/little-pirate-in-us-all.html' title='A little pirate in us all'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-112099331877519124</id><published>2005-07-09T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T04:01:58.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So much trouble in the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/Don"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/Don%27t%20worry%20Maddix%20is%20happy%21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The title of this "So much trouble in the world", is a song by Bob Marley. As it seems to be the appropriate way of describing these past few days. In all our wordily acts of violence, I grow more &amp; more tainted by them. All I tend to do is analyze "people" in general, and wonder why compassion, as human beings seems non-existent. Fuck religion, and fuck social economics. One thing holds true for the majority of people on earth, and that is, we all want to be loved. To have just one other person, boyfriend, girlfriend, son, daughter, friend whoever. To have someone, with whom to feel that love. Love, a feeling so strong, it allows your heart, your body, &amp;amp; your mind to create peace in life. So why with this simple desire that's so commonly shared, do people sell themselves to such hatred? In my life, I have BEEN unhappy, and I have felt the need to dislike. But, I have never felt so strongly, to say, I HATE you. With that being said I don't understand the reasoning to which someone could kill another person. To me, there's NO logic, &amp; NO justification for the conscious or unconscious act, which is murder. I am against war, I am against physical violence, and I'm against a government who ignores a poverty level that leads to these wars of violence. A United States that recognizes the wealthy Christian, where those who struggle are raped, and the uneducated simply fade into the hypocrisy of it all. And as this country, and the world get warped into a hating madness, I have ONE thing to be thankful for. This beautiful baby boy of mine. My perfect purpose, is my basic human need. Love that I feel in my soul, in which all the troubles in the world, appear more tolerable through my eyes. To experience him, is all that I really care to understand. A world in turmoil, should prioritize our  life's reason, and show some compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I love you Maddix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;I couldn't choose between these two quotes, so I am writing them both in...........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;"Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind. " - Henry James&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;"It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart." -  Anne Frank&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-112099331877519124?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/112099331877519124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=112099331877519124' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112099331877519124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/112099331877519124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/07/so-much-trouble-in-world.html' title='So much trouble in the world'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111994475195684079</id><published>2005-06-28T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T00:45:51.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a tribute to the Vegas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/That%20Girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/That%20Girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/dessert%20storm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/dessert%20storm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Even with the battle scars, Operation Dessert Storm was a success!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;And to my favorite blogging chica, this was brought from Vegas just for you!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;WE WILL ALWAYS HAVE LAS VEGAS LADIES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111994475195684079?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111994475195684079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111994475195684079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994475195684079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994475195684079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/06/tribute-to-vegas.html' title='a tribute to the Vegas'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111994488043168633</id><published>2005-06-28T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T00:48:00.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh yeah, one more thing.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;........... Rock out, wich yer cock out!!!!!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111994488043168633?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111994488043168633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111994488043168633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994488043168633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994488043168633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/06/oh-yeah-one-more-thing.html' title='oh yeah, one more thing.........'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111994404173440220</id><published>2005-06-27T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T00:34:01.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the "New Times"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/1600/vegas3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2058/869/320/vegas3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;On my morning trip to the AM PM,I grabbed a New Times. I haven't looked at one in a million years, due to the fact that I have no life. So I decided to poke through the music section, partly to bring back sweet memories of my "concert going days", and partly to occupy my time while I pulled a12 hour day at work &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- SOLO -. In my examination of every possible band that will be coming into town in the next few months, I came across the "Golden God" of concerts, Dave Mathews featuring Slightly Stoopid (one of the best damn bands EVER). Now, every year I would have my birthday show, and coincidentally for 3 years straight it was Dave. As life has it, my circle of friends changed, my finances blew goats, and my dedication to my music fell through (a very sad truth). With this "new" path I had chosen, came an unspoken guilt for abandoning the one thing in my life that made me happy, my music. My path brought me to motherhood, which can &amp; did stifle any social life I had had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;As Dave &amp;amp; SS spoke to me thru the New Times, I had a revelation.......and that is, if I DON'T go to this FUCKING amazing show, all my music rights will be revoked (as by MELLOWS law). I will shrivel up and die a fake, guttless, beastly troll!! Who the hell wants that floating around in their head? Not I, said the mellow me. So Friday's payday will include &lt;em&gt;ONE&lt;/em&gt; "Golden God" ticket to my salvation. And so it is written, so shall it be done (my biblical quote for my spiritual awakening). I NEED, NEED, NEED this show, and I'll be a fucking shit inducing energy drink before I miss this shiz-nit BEOTHES!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So there you have it....I am a leo lunatic, and Dave and Slightly Stoopid are gonna hear my ass roar on August 30. Martini, WE ARE SO THERE!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;SLIGHTLY STOOPID...."Mr. music, you know you sure sound good to me. You can't refuse it, what have you got to be? You've got to get together one more time and stand up for your rights. And when you're reaching for the sun at the end of the tunnel, you'll be lovin' everything tonight. Play on Mr. music, play on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Dave Mathews...."Celebrate we will. Cause life is short, but sweet for certain....things we can not change."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111994404173440220?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111994404173440220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111994404173440220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994404173440220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111994404173440220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/06/new-times.html' title='the &quot;New Times&quot;'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111835487161923570</id><published>2005-06-09T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T15:07:51.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo, Yo, Yo</title><content type='html'>Gangstas!!!! Vegas is in 8 days......shit!! Can't fuckin waaaaaaaait!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111835487161923570?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111835487161923570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111835487161923570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111835487161923570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111835487161923570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/06/yo-yo-yo.html' title='Yo, Yo, Yo'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111645794574748272</id><published>2005-05-18T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T16:14:29.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No post from the Coast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Back from vacation and back to the real world. I had my court date on Monday, for the incident with Mr. Selfish and I have to get a lawyer. I have a pre-trial at the end of June. I am pissed off, and confused. I probably won't be able to go to Vegas ladies. You have Mr. S to thank for that. The only problem is, that I still care and I don't know why!?! I can't win, I guess. I have all this shit going on with my son and I have to worry about a fucking lawyer too. FFUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!! We just got speach therapy, and soon a 2nd hour of Occupational Therapy. Now we have 6 hours in 2 days, plus my fucking job. Why did he do this? I have these dreams, that are so real, I wake up crying. I feel so sad the rest of the day because of them. On the bright side I will see mojo &amp;amp; martini thid weekend!!! Whatcha want for dinner chicas???? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sorry about my trucker moment........it feels good to say it though!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111645794574748272?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111645794574748272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111645794574748272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111645794574748272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111645794574748272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/05/no-post-from-coast.html' title='No post from the Coast'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111526532375691851</id><published>2005-05-04T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T20:55:23.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOREVER and a day!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know it's been awhile......I have no time ever!! So I go on vacation in 2 days!! Wooo Hooo!!! I will make my next post from the east coast baby!!! HAAAAAAAaa that was great&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am so lame. I want to say thanks to martini and mojo for totally being the best friends I could ever have. I can't wait for our evening of consuming mass alcoholic beverages, without a baby!! YEAH!! I am flying solo, with the   sweet boy....I am nervous. What if he freaks?? I am worrying myself for no reason. Who the hell cares!! Oh yeah, the OC tomorrow is gonna be the shiz nitz!! I love Thursday's!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ONE LOVE homesss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111526532375691851?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111526532375691851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111526532375691851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111526532375691851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111526532375691851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/05/forever-and-day.html' title='FOREVER and a day!!'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111430957999396659</id><published>2005-04-23T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T19:26:19.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accoustic guitars &amp; hotties with dreadlocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;It has been awhile, but I have been so busy, emotional (great,nice,wonderful), overwhelmed, and at times probably out of my mind. However here are 10 things I want right now. I would be in la-la land if I could have them ALL. May the blog gods hear my cries ......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a beautiful man with dreadlocks to play me the accoustic guitar whenever I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a foot message &amp; a pedicure!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;dinner at a nice ass place!! with a hottie that had dreadlocks of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a brownie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a BLUNT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;6. &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;HOT sex with a HOT guy!! (that I never have to see again)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;7. &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a perfect tasting cup of coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;8. &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a hot bubble bath, in a huge tub!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"&gt;9. &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a rhinestone flip phone, that takes pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;10.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a perfect glass of wine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111430957999396659?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111430957999396659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111430957999396659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111430957999396659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111430957999396659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/accoustic-guitars-hotties-with.html' title='Accoustic guitars &amp; hotties with dreadlocks'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111350333911176164</id><published>2005-04-14T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T11:28:59.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yellow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, Mr S. hasn't been home in a few days, and won't be home for a few more!!! WOOO HOOO!!! That sounds bad, but I needed a no drama week, and it's really felt good to be alone the past few days. So, even though I totally shouldn't have, I DID!! I needed a pick me up, with the past few days, and crying ( a much needed pick me up). So I went to the mall!! I got this way, freakin' cute shirt!! It's light &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;yellow&lt;/span&gt;, and it's awesome. It's like a &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;shirt&lt;/span&gt; you can do ANYTHING in and still look, well, &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;AWESOME&lt;/span&gt;!! So ask me if I feel picked up, and better. Hell yeah I do!! It's amazing how spending money (that I don't really have!!) on something for no real reason (&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;just because&lt;/span&gt;), can make you feel totally on top of your game again (I'm sure a shirt really didn't do that, but it feels like it!). So now, I have this itching feeling to go back, and get those shoes I saw. I am trying to maintain, but the inner urge is getting hard to ignore. As long as I have a good day at work Friday, I should be in the clear. If one customer smarts off, I might just have to buy those shoes!!! I am so bad, but I really don't care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ccccff;"&gt;   Just to make a little report on Mr S. When I picked up the "sweet boy" at the sitter's  on Tuesday (after the shirt incident) Mr S. had dropped off presents for the baby. At first I didn't know if this was an attempt to prove he is a good father, or if he really felt bad? I didn't care!! The "sweet boy" got some new toys, that's all I will think about it. However, I think it's kind of a LAME attempt, if you ask me!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ccccff;"&gt;  Also, my last rant for this post.....I have this MEGA fun vacation planned for VEGAS, and if I can't go, I am going to be MEGA PISSED!! That sounds a little "selfish" considering there are other things more important. Although the importance for me to be in Vegas with my new &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;yellow &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"HOT"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;shirt&lt;/span&gt;, well, it's pretty god damn important....if you ask me!!!! Hopefully things will flow, and I will get to go!!! I am saying good things, maybe that will spark some &lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;"Vegas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;magic"&lt;/span&gt; to sprinkle in the breeze to meeeeeeeee!!! Good things, good things, good things, good things&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.....................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111350333911176164?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111350333911176164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111350333911176164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111350333911176164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111350333911176164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/yellow.html' title='Yellow'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111332933401429525</id><published>2005-04-12T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T11:08:54.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt; Things have drastically changed since my last post. Mr. Selfish has proved himself once again. This time, I'm afraid there is nothing that can be done to repair the damage. He has proved himself loud and clear. I might have to leave my home. I might have to leave my state. The state I CHOSE!! The place I have lived in for 8 years now. All because this selfish man is consumed with hate, while my son, and my love fizzles away. My son's therapy might get cut. And if he is unable to walk because of this, I will be filled with hate. I have been through alot, and have never been filled with hate. I am feeling alone, and very sad. I have a perpetual lump in my throat all day long. Why must I deal with this, when there is so many other things I must focus on? I don't know?? I don't know what I will do? I have a few days to come up with my game plan. If it was just me I'd be gone, but this baby needs me. I must be strong. I am so disappointed in Mr.S. How could you risk the wellness of your child, for your own personal enjoyment? Hence the alias Mr. Selfish I guess!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;  I was going to have a part IIII to my chronicles of "Back in the Day", but the last 4 years have been the joys of my son, and the downs with the "selfish". So this is my part IIII. Why, why, why? I hope I make the right choice!! I love my sweet boy so much. FUCK!!   FUCK!!  FUCK!!!        why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;a quote..."There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year's course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;                   &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;How sad to see a father with money and no joy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111332933401429525?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111332933401429525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111332933401429525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111332933401429525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111332933401429525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111270935875794484</id><published>2005-04-05T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T06:55:58.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I smart enough to figure this out?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.threebrain.com/weeeeee.shtml"&gt;http://www.threebrain.com/weeeeee.shtml&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;If this works, I will feel like a "blog god"!! Oh and the link is funny too!! Saw the badger one, so I was feeling inspired!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111270935875794484?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.threebrain.com/weeeeee.shtml' title='Am I smart enough to figure this out?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111270935875794484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111270935875794484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111270935875794484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111270935875794484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/am-i-smart-enough-to-figure-this-out.html' title='Am I smart enough to figure this out?'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111268835674239291</id><published>2005-04-04T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T01:07:32.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time is of the essence</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know I should go to bed, but this is my only quiet time. Alone in my thoughts, with baby sleeping, Mr. Self centered sleeping, dog sleeping....this &lt;strong&gt;IS &lt;/strong&gt;mellows hour!! With the start of a new week, I can only see the redundancy of work, a myriad of scheduled appointments, the constant "low" of Mr. Self centered, and a grand finale, including 8 1/2 hours of traffic school! Honestly, I am easily amused. Good conversation, reading everyone's blog, music, a cool breeze, a new celebrity gossip magazine. All of these things help me to maintain, and not be a raving, psychotic, crazy chick!! With all this said, chaos is my life. However, I am realizing, everyone has this "chaos" I am speaking of. Yet somehow, we can't ever remember that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have decided that it's ok, to splurge on myself once a week. Nothing dramatic or anything. It could be just a simple trip to Wal-mart, and I feel replenished. Now my procrastination tends to ween it's ugly head, just when I get excited about something. Or my need to rationalize it's importance. If I don't have anything to show for it, I will try and talk myself out of it (whatever it might be). Although, in my thinking process, I am trying to change. Not that it needs changing, i think it could be growing. Expanding. Realizing, that when all is said and done, I am the only one that can "allow" me to be happy. Knowing this really helps me understand the importance of the things I love. Take music for example, there was a time when I wouldn't listen to my cd's. Why I don't know. So now, each morning, I pick a different cd. Which leaves me singing (loudly), and caring less that, I'm being tailgaited, and that the freeway is backed up (again)!! Another example would be, my son. I try so hard to figure out what the problem is, I forget that he is always going to be my baby (with the badest god damn name in the whole world!!). Nothing will ever give me more happiness, than him! Then there are my friends. There is a guilt sometimes, by not having more time. Even though they probably don't see it that way, I like to worry. I will worry, when there's nothing to worry about. Perhaps it's a fear that, my "people" might leave me? I really can't say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, as i come to an understanding, about the person that I am, I know that I can only be, what i allow myself to be. I can only feel, what I let myself feel. With a happiness, only&lt;em&gt; I really see. &lt;/em&gt;A meaning I could honestly believe. I will always be worthy to smile, and enjoy anything I damn well please!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;a quote......Without self-confidence we are as babes in the cradle. And how can we generate this imponderable quality, which is yet so invaluable, most quickly? By thinking that other people are inferior to oneself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111268835674239291?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111268835674239291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111268835674239291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111268835674239291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111268835674239291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/time-is-of-essence.html' title='Time is of the essence'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111244770009834076</id><published>2005-04-01T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T05:16:31.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i  am  Real</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8188544/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8188544_4c77e5227d_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8188544/"&gt;eye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/74379188@N00/"&gt;mymellowme&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{[ eye WONDER? ]}&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111244770009834076?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111244770009834076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111244770009834076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244770009834076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244770009834076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-am-real.html' title='i  am  Real'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111244685037198547</id><published>2005-04-01T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T05:08:39.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my " i "  ' s</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8190369/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://photos6.flickr.com/8190369_c6e56fc3d6_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8190369/"&gt;tool eye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/74379188@N00/"&gt;mymellowme&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;___seeing with a mellow eye___&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111244685037198547?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111244685037198547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111244685037198547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244685037198547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244685037198547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/my-i-s.html' title='my &quot; i &quot;  &apos; s'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111244722205497132</id><published>2005-04-01T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T05:18:49.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eye can SEE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8190362/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8190362_3722b11356_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74379188@N00/8190362/"&gt;eyeballs2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/74379188@N00/"&gt;mymellowme&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;(( I witness ))&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111244722205497132?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111244722205497132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111244722205497132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244722205497132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111244722205497132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/04/eye-can-see.html' title='eye can SEE'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111216622973501989</id><published>2005-03-29T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T23:03:49.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the day...part III "High school"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;   &lt;strong&gt;~ Well here I am, a freshman in a new high school. I must have stuck out like a sore thumb. As I walked around that first day, I noticed the curious stares. I was the "new girl" once again, but this time, it was in this HUGE stereotyped, fashionista, constantly judged bubble of teenage girls, and boys. It didn't take me long to gravitate toward a group. Boys with skateboards asking for money. They happen to be the only people wondering my name, where I came from etc. (Just an FYI being 1990-1991, I would have to say the boys with skateboards were much different, than the boys with skateboards today. In my opinion.) This was the day I would meet Red, Holland &amp; Sullivan (aliases). From that day forward, I was officially one of the guys.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;    ~My freshman year I met this boy with a skateboard, shall we call him Red. (Holland, Sullivan, &amp; Red, confused yet?) Red was a little goofy, tall, husky (you know what I mean), with really red hair and freckles. He kept bugging &amp;amp; bugging me until I agreed to go out with him. We ended up togther for 4 years. And to this day, he was the only guy that loved every part of me, and told me, and showed me.We were together every day FOR that 4 years too.In some way were a PG-13 sometimes rated R Bonnie &amp; Clyde. As I approached senior year things started to change drastically. Our relationship was growing apart. This hole FOUR years, hanging out with the boys, and drinking with the boys, made me notice another boy. It was Holland. We had always had the most in common, and all the same classes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;    ~After Red and I broke up, I knew that Holland and I would get together, in was inevitable. And so one day we did. My relationship with Holland lasted 5 1/2 years. Our senior year was fucking awesome. Holland, Sullivan &amp; I were the shit, and no one would despute it. We knew where the parties were, or were having the party ourselves. When we graduated, as I started a new future, I really felt like I was right where I belonged. As Holland &amp;amp; I approached our second year together, that's when my life undeniably changed, with such a darkness, I never thought I would experience. Considering that Holland &amp; I were socialites, we drank like fishes as well. One night after leaving a friends house, I tried to take the keys away from him, and we started into a huge fight. That was the first time Holland hit me. He punched me in the face 2X, broke 3 windiws in my parents house, and punched the wall. (my parents were obviously not home) At that time, I had no idea of his anger, and I didn't REALLY SEE what he had done.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;     ~Meanwhile, as the next year rolled on, we maintained this "perfect" couple label. No one knew except my parents, his parents and sister, Holland and me. As our relationship went on, it went through waves. There were good times (truely there were) and then there would be those angry, hateful times, that seemed to really bother us both. We decided that we had to leave our "turd hole town" and go somewhere. And so we did. As I packed my car with my ENTIRE life inside, Holland and I began our cross country journey towards our new state 2500 miles away from "turd town".  With the thought that with this new beginning, we would leave our problems in "turd hole", along with the anger &amp; violence.  __________OH, HOW WRONG WE WERE!!!____________&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--**--Not a whole lotta mention of Sullivan up to here.The next part of "backintheday"there will be way too many Sullivan references-**-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;    ~These 3 guys still remain in my thoughts, and forever changed something about me. I will always wonder, how life is treating them. And despite any hurt, those happy times, are some of the most *free-loving-fun*, I have ever had.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;a quote......"It is hard to convince a high-school student that he will encounter a lot of problems more difficult than those of algebra and geometry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111216622973501989?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111216622973501989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111216622973501989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111216622973501989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111216622973501989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/back-in-daypart-iii-high-school.html' title='Back in the day...part III &quot;High school&quot;'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111167385480316910</id><published>2005-03-24T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-24T06:30:13.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>questions from a martini &lt;3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;1 WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Some are plain white, some are solid blue, &amp; some have circular patterns on them that are blue,yellow, magenta, &amp;amp; green (very retro)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;2.WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING RIGHT NOW?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;DaVinci Code                                 &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;3.WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;It's so lame. It's got a guy, holding a gun, in front of a brick wall. with that yellow police tape going across. On thetop it says "New York. Fugutive undercover cop. Nothing to lose." On the bottom it says MAX PAYNE, I think it's a game???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;4.WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BOARD GAME?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;SCRABBLE bitches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;5.FAVORITE MAGAZINE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt; Spin, Rolling Stones, or Blender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;6.FAVORITE SMELL? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;(agree-ing w/ martinilove) A yummy smelling guy is the BEST!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;7.LEAST FAVORITE SMELL?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Bad breath or B.O. (gross, it's a tie)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKEUP IN THE MORNING?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;What shoes am i going to wear today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;9. FAVORITE COLOR?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;probably blue, although I LOVE red (my red pants, remember)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;10. CHILDERENS NAMES ?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;MADDIX (I wonder why???), Marley , Sailor, Jaide, Jace, Kaya&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;11.DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Not really, however I got a freakin' speeding ticket on&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Monday, going 80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;12. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;No, but I have one pillow, that if I don't have&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;it, I will not have a good sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;16. THUNDERSTORMS--&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;are pretty cool, but sometimes scare me!! I love the lightening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;17. WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;1990 Chevy Corsica Maroon with a silver line that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;went around the bottom of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;18. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Marilyn Manson, his mind seems to intrigue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;21. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I eat all of the broccoli. Dana Carvey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Saturday Night Live "Choppin' Broccoli" sooooo freakin' hysterical!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;22.COULD HAVE ANY JOB WHAT WOULD IT BE??&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I would be a potter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;23.WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED??&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Nothing at all!!                                                                            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;24. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORIE BASEBALL TEAM?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;The Yankee's of course DJNY baby!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;25 . FAVORITE CD?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;of all time...this is tough. I will take into effect, the longestrunning CD, I&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;have always listened to, and still listen to. Probably Pink Floyd the Wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111167385480316910?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111167385480316910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111167385480316910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111167385480316910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111167385480316910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/questions-from-martini-3.html' title='questions from a martini &lt;3'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111165740547870818</id><published>2005-03-23T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-24T01:43:25.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How come?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;   Sometimes I ask myself, "Am I a good person"? What makes a person, a good person? Is it your own perception of yourself, or how others percieve you? I think to be totally true to yourself, it would have to be self perception. Because only you know your conscious. And ultimately your conscious would be what determined a self evalutation of "a good person". Now ask yourself one question. What is the worst thing, you've ever done? Think about the answer, and then think whether what that  would warrant a "bad person" conclusion. Now I have asked myself what the worst thing I've ever done was, and this is the answer I have found. The worst thing I ever did, was have an affair with a married man. At that time I had just ended a 5 1/2 year abusive relationship (which by no means, makes it ok). I had been with this person pretty much my whole life (up until that point). I had no idea how to meet people, or be single in any way. I was working the front desk at a hotel. He was a guest that was staying there for awhile, on a business trip. We would chat while I was working, and one night he asked me out to dinner. To be honest, I really wouldn't even consider him my type at all. For the most part it was the thrill of messing around with a guest in the hotel. I honestly didn't know he was married until after we had slept together (which didn't stop me from doing it again. Not very nice!). He never wore a wedding ring, or talked about any wife he had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;    It only lasted a week, but after that I really hadn't realized what I had done. Now in retrospect, I think that was one of the worst things I could have done.  I didn't seem to care about any one I might have been hurting. In retrospect, I was very selfish. I do feel that I have learned by my mistake, and can say that I would never do that now. If I could take it back, I would! I do believe in karma, and it will not be pleasant when it comes back to me. Although I feel my slate somewhat cleaned, I will always remember what I did, and always feel I have it coming to me. I won't be a jealous person, if cheating happens, it happens. However, I don't feel like a cheater, just someone who made a big mistake. Does this make me a bad person? I don't feel like I am a bad person, and I do feel like I am a pretty good person. Can someone make a mistake like this, and still be considered a "good person"? I can't say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#00cccc;"&gt;a quote......"&lt;a title="Click for further information about this quotation" href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/31474.html"&gt;I’ll feel that horrible feeling in my stomach you get when you’ve gone over to the Dark Side. But I’ll be fine. That’s the good thing about the Dark Side. Eventually, your eyes adjust.&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111165740547870818?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111165740547870818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111165740547870818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111165740547870818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111165740547870818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/how-come.html' title='How come?'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111130067203530597</id><published>2005-03-22T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T20:23:10.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back int the Day - part II...the "perfectly lost years"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- Major changes I am no longer a 'wee one", not quite a teenager. My sister &amp; my two older brothers had graduated and moved out. So the parents decided it would be so cool to move to Florida. So up we moved. FREEZE and I were the only kids left, in a new state, with a new house. It was easy to adjust, because I was onty 9 years old then. Although, being the "new kid" takes some getting used to. Everything had changed, and I didn't like it. We (still did our famiy, thing, but it was very different, and much smaller. FREEZE was in high school, which meant, he needed space from everyone. At this time Nintendo had just come out. FREEZE and I would sit and play Super Mario Brothers for hours. Florida was pretty hot, so the parents thought the new house should have a pool. That was when I became part fish. I lived in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Once we had lived there awhile, I made a lot of friends (in my life I have NEVER had a lot of friends). I was a cheerleader in 8" grade, and I just HAD to take dance classes. My 1st kiss was in 7th grade &amp;amp; it was with tongue. Really didn' t mean much at that time. 8th grade I had my first real boyfriend. He taught me how to kiss (the right way), and that's all we did. We had gotten into a fight one time, and I poured a coke over his head. That was pretty much the first, and last time I ever defended myself against a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ FREEZE graduated when I was 13, and I finished 8th grade at the same time. For me, it was time for high school I was actually heading in the right direction. I loved school, and was interested in learning. I liked doing girly things, and being with friends. I loved my parents and enjoyed hanging out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Life would forever change, and this one thing set my path. It was the beginning of the summer, before I started high school. My parents want to move back home (NY). I was devastated. I had just started becoming this person that after the move would never be again. We moved back to NY, but not where I grew up. So I knew nobody &amp;amp; I was starting a new high school, in a new town, with no FREEZE, and no mellow that I had ever known. If I ever thought being the "new kid" was hard before, I couldn't imagine how hard it was going to be now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Favorlte music at this time: &lt;strong&gt;this was my metal glam music phase&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Motley Crue, Skid Row, Guns-N-Roses, Winger (ahhh Kip) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favor1te movie: &lt;strong&gt;Heathers, cheesy horror flicks, Back to the Beach&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite place visited: &lt;strong&gt;the Florida Keys (swam with sharks, barracudas,, dolphins, snorkled, and got stung by a jelly fish) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Favorite trend: &lt;strong&gt;Spandex pants, multiple pairs of scrunch socks, puff paint shirts, Swatch watches, puffy feathered bangs (they grew back)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;a quote..."Its ok to kiss a fool, its ok to let a fool kiss you, but never let a kiss fool you!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111130067203530597?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111130067203530597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111130067203530597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111130067203530597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111130067203530597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/back-int-day-part-iithe-perfectly-lost.html' title='Back int the Day - part II...the &quot;perfectly lost years&quot;'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111136039583212956</id><published>2005-03-20T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-20T15:24:23.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another reason to SMILE!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;He sat up today. He sat up all by himself, and just hung out, looking at himself in the mirror. We've been working so hard. He makes me so proud. But wait what is that, it stinks!! He crapped his pants!!! My smile is no longer!!!!!!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;a quote......"This is our purpose: to make as meaningful as possible this life that has been bestowed upon us; to live in such a way that we may be proud of ourselves; to act in such a way that some part of us lives on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111136039583212956?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111136039583212956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111136039583212956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111136039583212956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111136039583212956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/just-another-reason-to-smile.html' title='Just another reason to SMILE!!!'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111129891232233935</id><published>2005-03-19T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T22:08:57.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the day - Part 1 . . . the "wee days"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;This will be a series of posts, that chronicle the life of mellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;- My childhood , ( from what I remember) was just as a child should have. I remember growing up in a busy house. My parents were married, and I have 3 brothers &amp; 1 sister. We lived in a smalll town. One of my brother's friends, or my sister's friends lived with us at some point. I am the youngest of 5, with a 9 year difference between me and my brother, (we'll call him FREEZE). Now FREEZE felt compelled to show me HIS way. He would try and make me memorize Black Sabbath lyrics, so I could recite them on command. FREEZE made me watch the 1st Nightmare on Elm Street, with him. I was SO scared of that movie. I would try to cover my eyes, and he would pin my arms down, so I couldn't cover them up. Yes, FREEZE tormented me. He would put my baby dolls head in the toilet and give her swirly's. I would cry so hard. My sister, (we'll call her MOUTH) used me as her guinnea pig for everything. She would put make up on me, style my hair, make me eat weird things, just to see my reaction. One time I remember, she wanted to practice hair cutting, (why?? i don't know) she used my bangs, and pretty much cut them as short as they could possiblely go. Needless to say, they spiked out from the middle of my forehead. Not very cute. I was 4, so I didn't care, but my mom wasn't happy. What can you do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;- I remember my parents would go away for the weekend, and my sister would throw parties. People drinking &amp;amp; partying. They always thought I was so cool, and I would sit and listen to their stories (I had No clue what they were saying). I would be wearing my footie pj's, with the zipper that goes from the feet to the neck. One morning I woke up and this guy was passed out on our stairs. He woke up. saying he had a hang over, and asked me to get him a drink. I went to the kitchen and concocted this drink. It had milk, an egg, some ketchup &amp; mustard, pickle juice you name it (I was 4 &amp;amp; thought it would be like a surprise drink. Shit my sister made me eat weird stuff, I thought it was normal). I gave it to him, he smelled it, and threw up all over the stairs. Good Times!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- By being the youngest of 5. I demanded attention all the time. One day, everyone was home doing their thing, but not including me in. I kept pestering everybody, but that particular day, nobody was in the mood to baby mellow. So I decided I would teach them, and I ran away. I left the house (I was probably 5 1/2 yrs) and went down the street to my friends house. I stayed there until it got dark, so sure that everyone would be like, "Where is mellow?". I had only been gone for 2 hours at the most, but it felt like forever, and it was past dark. When I got back to my house, no one even knew I was gone. It sounds sad, but I wouldn't trade my whack family, for anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite show: Fraggle Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite thing to listen to: the Smurfs record it had a song that said "I'm a pink toothbrush, you're a blue toothbrush, come brush your teeth with me." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite toy: Popples these were those stuffed animalsthat you could fold into balls (&amp; yes FREEZE put my Popples in the toilet too) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite piece of clothing: a Strawberry Shortcake magnetic clip belt (do you remember those belts!!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite food: cheese &amp;amp; ketchup sandwiches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Favorite things to do: tag along with FREEZE, swing on the playground , play with toys, play with friends etc- etc- etc-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;* I had 2 dogs in the "wee days" a fuzzy white Husky named Sam &amp;amp; a "weiner" dog named Buster&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111129891232233935?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111129891232233935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111129891232233935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111129891232233935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111129891232233935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/back-in-day-part-1-wee-days.html' title='Back in the day - Part 1 . . . the &quot;wee days&quot;'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111112458173754194</id><published>2005-03-17T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T21:43:13.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's spewing out of my ears</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I spent a good part of my afternoon (if you couldn't tell from my previous posts from today), trying to make my blog "super duper" (martini). With the help of a fellow blogger, I have successfully reached what I would like to call, "my blog nirvana". Hopefully, all these changes, can make all well, in the world of mellow!!! I have to admit, I am extremely happy now! All this has taught me that, (1) I didn't know very much about what I was doing (2) Reading all the instructions ARE important (3) It's better to ask for help, than to screw things up, &amp;amp; get pissed off about it &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; last but not least (4) breathe in thru nose, out thru mouth, sip a Dr. Pepper, and enjoy mellow's pretty, more efficient blog!!! &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanks again for showing me the way!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;a quote...... &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://en.thinkexist.com/quotation/it_is_in_the_compelling_zest_of_high_adventure/221976.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;It is in the compelling zest of high adventure and of victory, and in creative action, that man finds his supreme joys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111112458173754194?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111112458173754194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111112458173754194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112458173754194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112458173754194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/its-spewing-out-of-my-ears.html' title='It&apos;s spewing out of my ears'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111112200400154589</id><published>2005-03-17T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T21:01:20.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~ ~ Hot damn ~ ~</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;I just found them ! ! ! They're back ! ! ! My ears have cooled off, and I have a perma grin right now ! ! ! I am blessed with the re-birth of my pre-Haloscan comments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;llelujah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I did have VERY good instructions (compliments of &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;blue&lt;/span&gt;). I feel like I have accomplished something, and it feels DAMN good!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Gold star for mellow&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cccccc;"&gt;a quote....."The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Webdings;font-size:180%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111112200400154589?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111112200400154589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111112200400154589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112200400154589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112200400154589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/hot-damn.html' title='~ ~ Hot damn ~ ~'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111112032909943890</id><published>2005-03-17T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T21:00:40.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They've gone bye bye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;Still no pre-Haloscan comments, but I'm still working on it!!! I am glad I don't drink too often, because this is a reason to drink. And if I was drinking and attempting this, my blog would probably die :( !! Every time I finish an attempt, and I go to view it, and everything's still the same, the tips of my ears get HOT!!! Woe is mellow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Thank you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;blue&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111112032909943890?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111112032909943890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111112032909943890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112032909943890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111112032909943890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/theyve-gone-bye-bye.html' title='They&apos;ve gone bye bye'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111109700716972308</id><published>2005-03-17T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T14:30:12.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck is all I can say!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ok, so&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I figured that I would do my part as a responsible blogger &amp; get the Haloscan thingy set up. Now being a "newby" to everything involving a computer, I get scared ( I know I am lame). But I was confident going into Haloscan, and it seemed simple. So the end result is, " I lost all my fucking comments ! ! !" Now I am pretty sure, That Girl, mentioned something about the comments, and I didn't get it ( it was the "newby" thing). As I followed the instructions to download Halo, I didn't come across anything that said, CLICK HERE TO SAVE YOUR COMMENTS. Or maybe it was there, and I somehow totally missed it ( very possible). I usually just clicked on the names that commented to get to their sites. NO MORE!! I am pissed off right now!! Grrrrrrrrr No worries. I am going to put my thinking cap on, &amp;amp; make it easy again. I hate change, when I am just getting started. Grrrrrr It's a conspiracy, I tell ya'. Simple=mellow, change=frustration, computer lingo=clueless, BeepBeepBeepbeep=Grrrrrrr!! I have Grrr'ed alot in this post. This "newby" is kicking ass and taking names!! ( dude I am soooo freakin' lame....but it's fun!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffccff;"&gt;a quote....."If you have always done it that way, it is probably wrong."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111109700716972308?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111109700716972308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111109700716972308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111109700716972308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111109700716972308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/fuck-is-all-i-can-say.html' title='Fuck is all I can say!!!'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111104191390080997</id><published>2005-03-16T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T22:45:13.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To peeve, or not to peeve</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;This could end up being mellows bitch fest, but that's ok!! So one thing that irritates me is Michael Jordan &amp;amp; Shaquille O'Neal. These are two men with the sole purpose to over expose themselves, however they can. Jordan was the worst as far as advertising. God damn underwear, batteries, cell phones, HOT DOGS the list goes on. I mean, did he not make enough money with his basketball, baseball, golf, fucking figure skating (kidding)? Oh yeah and his "Air Jordan" sneakers. I seriously was perturbed, with every siting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;The next person who totally made me "want to send him a mail bomb", is Fred Durst. Now this man is terribly unattractive, yet he always has some young thing jocking his style. Plus his band SUCKED!!! This one could get me in trouble. That little girl from Mrs. Doubtfire. I can't stand her, so much that I think I could send her a mail bomb too!! I know she's a kid, but some kids are trollish beasts. She's one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;Now, not so famous...there's was this girl at my work, who went against everything I disagreed with. When she started, she was engaged. She had been w/ her man for like 5 yrs (long time, at least that's what she SAID). Well 1 month before the wedding, he called it off. I did feel bad, because that sucks, but seriously, she was fucking psycho. So after the "dumping" she tried SO hard to find a new husband. It took her less than 3 weeks. She knew him for 2 weeks, and then they got married. I knew what was coming next...."I'm pregnant". With her personality, I knew that she was going to quit. She was raised to think that the woman doesn't work after she becomes pregnant. So her husband has 3 jobs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;just to make their living. And the WHOLE time she's been married, all she can do is talk bad about her husband. This makes me so mad. She happens to be an over-exaggerator, a chronic liar, and very ignorant. She claims to be a "Christian", which in her eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;means, she thinks she's better than me. With her "Christian" attitude, she judges everything, and she doesn't even go to church!! She was also one of those people who always has a "better" story than the one you might be speaking of (which was so fucking annoying). Needless to say, when she found out she was pregnant, I knew she would leave. But she swore, that she wouldn't screw me, and not give a 2 week notice. Leave it to a know-it-all bitch, to leave -it-all bitchy!!! I swear, I hated her for being so disrespectful!! Now here is the question....does my rant about her sound like I'm jealous? I promise, I would never want to be her, but it could be interpreted like that. Oh well, such is life!! Karma's a bitch!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;Oh, I hate pop punk music, and all these "non talent ass clown, teen bitches" making music. What money will buy. It bought Ashlee Simpson fame!! Now maybe she will cut her mullet!! I think I'm done for now!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;a quote......"&lt;a title="Click for further information about this quotation" href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/29560.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111104191390080997?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111104191390080997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111104191390080997' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111104191390080997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111104191390080997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/to-peeve-or-not-to-peeve.html' title='To peeve, or not to peeve'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111103905849948021</id><published>2005-03-16T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T21:57:38.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ghost Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;awake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Shake dreams from your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;My pretty child, my sweet one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Choose the day and choose the sign of your day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;The day's divinity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;First thing you see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;Couples naked race down by it's quiet side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;And we laugh like soft, mad children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;The music and voices are all around us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Choose they croon the ancient ones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;The time has come again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Choose now, they croon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#339999;"&gt;Beneath the moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Beside an ancient lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Enter again the sweet forest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;Enter the hot dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Come with us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Everything is broken up and dances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#33ff33;"&gt;a quote....."So you thought you might like to,Go to the show.To feel the warm thrill of confusion,That space cadet glow.Tell me is something eluding you, Sunshine?Is this not what you expected to see?If you wanna find out what's behind these cold eyes,You'll just have to blow your way through this disguise."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;This post is for mzmojo. I can't begin to tell you, how much our friendship means (martini too!!!) to me. I didn't know a true friendship, until I met you guys!! You are, in a way, my two soul mates! Thank you, for putting up with my ass!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111103905849948021?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111103905849948021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111103905849948021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111103905849948021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111103905849948021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/ghost-song.html' title='The Ghost Song'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111094960393362411</id><published>2005-03-15T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T21:06:43.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>F()RGeTTfu|_  ^^e</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ffffff;"&gt;By the way, that is a song by Simon and Garfunkel...if you didn't already know!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111094960393362411?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111094960393362411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111094960393362411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111094960393362411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111094960393362411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/frgettfu-e.html' title='F()RGeTTfu|_  ^^e'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111094917952101602</id><published>2005-03-15T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T20:59:39.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kathy's song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;I hear the drizzle of the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Like a memory it falls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Soft and warm continuing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Tapping on my roof and walls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;And from the shelter of my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Through the window of my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;To england where my heart lies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;My mind's distracted and diffused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;My thoughts are many miles away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;They lie with you when you're asleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;And kiss you when you start your day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;And as a song I was writing is left undone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I don't know why I spend my time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Writing songs I can't believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;With words that tear and strain to rhyme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;And so you see I have come to doubt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;All that I once held true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;I stand alone without beliefs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;The only truth I know is you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;And as I watch the drops of rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Weave their weary paths and die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I know that I am like the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;There but for the grace of you go i.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a quote......Do I listen to pop music because I'm miserable or am I miserable because listen to pop music? --John Cusack (Rob Gordon) High Fidelity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111094917952101602?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111094917952101602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111094917952101602' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111094917952101602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111094917952101602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/kathys-song.html' title='Kathy&apos;s song'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-111068479789593375</id><published>2005-03-12T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T17:42:03.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eye see you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;NNNNN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;NNNN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;ave always wondered if different eye colors see things differently. Do all eyes see what my brown eyes see. My favorite is blue eyes (my son has beautiful blue eyes). I can describe what I see with brown eyes, but is it the same with someone with green eyes. I have always wished my eyes were a different color like blue, or green. Those eye colors are so alive, so passion filled. It seems that way to me, or maybe I am being a tad dramatic. Sometimes, I think I feel my son when I look into his eyes, and they're just SO blue. I think green eyes are pretty cool too. However, I do have the song "Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison. That song is the best. It's one of my favorites!! I could be totally lame for thinking this, but I love eyeballs. So it was inevitable that I write this post!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;NNNN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;NNNNN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;a quote....."We are all wrong so often that it amazes me that we can have any conviction at all over the direction of things to come. But we must"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111068479789593375?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111068479789593375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111068479789593375' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111068479789593375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111068479789593375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/eye-see-you.html' title='Eye see you'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-111068376043447573</id><published>2005-03-12T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T19:16:00.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight to Blogger HELL!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ok....it has been like days since my last post. I should be thrown in jail for blog neglect! I left my blog somewhere and forgot where I left it!! I am a horible blog-giver! I apologize, in part do to a busy schedule, &amp; part do to total procrastination. You can hate  me if you want, but I feel bad as it is. So without further a do, I present, the return, from a blog vacation!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;________I know, I am a total lamo!!____ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111068376043447573?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111068376043447573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111068376043447573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111068376043447573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111068376043447573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/straight-to-blogger-hell.html' title='Straight to Blogger HELL!!'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111033954733852444</id><published>2005-03-08T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T19:39:07.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I put a new Wing on my doctors house</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Sometimes, I will not check my mail for a week (my mail box, it's a cluster of boxes at the end of the street). So I swung by the cluster last night, on the way home from work. Needless to say, there was alot of mail. Mostly junk. Some letters for pe-approved home loans and credit cards. And then there are all my Dr. bills. As I've said before, I frequent doctors. All kinds of doctors. We have also had a few surgeries too. Now I have this "Oh so AWESOME insurance" that takes care of a pretty nice portion of the bill (maybe I'm selfish to complain, some people don't even have insurance :( ). So I get these bills for an anesthesiologist, immunizations that aren't covered, yada yada yada. And I am like. "I thought I paid this?" So I call the insurance, then the billing office. NOPER.... no where does it tell me I have to pay for this, or I have to pay for that, I'm just supposed to know this, being a expert on insurance and all. I didn't even have insurance before I got pregnant! It's not like I am gonna say "No I'm not having him tested for that my insurance doesn't cover it!" Which by the way, they don't tell you until after you've already done it. Now I understand a doctor has got to make a living too, but what the helldoes that money I pay out of my check go for, I ask?? Doctor's have a way of manipulating the situation, without saying a single word. I HAVE to put my trust in them, because I have no choices. Therefore I feel like an idiot, at every visit, then I pay them and leave. All that, to come home, get on the computer, and look up the information myself. In some ways, I feel that I know more about a possible diagnoses for my son than they do. And still I test, &amp; test, &amp;amp; test, and sometimes wait 2 months for a result. In the meantime, I keep paying bill, after bill, after bill, building another wing on their already too big of a house!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sorry for a post full of rants, but I had to let it out somewhere!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#ccffff;"&gt;a quote....."I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now? Reality leaves a lot to the imagination."-John Lennon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111033954733852444?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111033954733852444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111033954733852444' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111033954733852444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111033954733852444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-put-new-wing-on-my-doctors-house.html' title='I put a new Wing on my doctors house'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-111025996465992782</id><published>2005-03-07T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-07T21:33:36.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pass the dutchy from the left hand side</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#33cc00;"&gt;    Ok, I am going to write this, so that I can get feed back (maybe). The focus on this post will be the legalization of marijuana. Now by me throwing this out, I don't want to be labeled a "pothead" . However there was a time where I was. I am much older now, and I'm not putting things off, to sit around and get stoned. I will admit that I enjoy to smoke a little here and there. It relieves my stress, and helps me sleep (two problems I should address in themselves, but I don't feel it's necessary). I don't smoke in my house, and I don't even smoke that often, but if I can I will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#33cc00;"&gt;    Now I feel that marijuana should be legal for many reasons. First off, it could be taxed and made profit for this ever increasing deficit our country has. I mean, doesn't it make sense? It would eliminate the need for a drug dealer (which in itself causes crime and violence). Who needs another ass clown, sitting around, making money off something like this instead of finding a real job. But who am I to talk, I am sponsoring this behavior. Second reason is that the hemp plant is more durable and just as useful (if not more) than the cotten plant. You can make pretty much anything with hemp. Third reason is that it can be burned as a fuel source. It has been found that the marijuana seed if burned and the right temperature, is one of the cleanest forms of burning fuel. Virtually leaving no exhaust &amp; easier to obtain. It beats going to war, and killing a whole bunch of people, to have access to our fuel source. (and NO the exhaust isn't like when you smoke weed, it isn't going to get you stoned). Fourth reason is the medicinal uses. Marijuana could replace quite a few drugs out there, leaving less adverse effects on the patient. Who should decide that a cancer patient can't smoke a joint to ease the nauseous feeling they have from their chemo. Not me. I can't imagine dealing with that and I say puff away. These are a few of my points to justify my reasoning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#33cc00;"&gt;    I feel, personally that I should be able to enjoy this. I work very hard, and have been there for 3 1/2 years. I pay my bills, and I pay taxes, and I am raising my son in a stressful situation. I have issues in my love life (which could drive anyone to smoke a fatty). At some point, when my son reaches a certain age, I can not partake in this as a way of "mellowing" out. I don't want him to see me do that. But at this point he is completely unware. Maybe it's my way of dealing with the curves life throws. I don't drink (hardly ever) &amp; I don't do other drugs (I'm too old &amp;amp; and have too many things important to me). So this is my justification. Why is it legal to get wasted on alcohol, but not get a buzz from a joint? This is my question. Marijuana is portrayed as this evil "drug" that will cause you to go crazy. Under the proper abiding laws, it could be one of the best things for our country (in my opinion). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#33cc00;"&gt;    Tell me what you think. I could be totally missing the obvious, but these are my thoughts on the matter. Inquiring minds would like to know! Peace bloggers &amp;amp; pleasant dreams!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"&gt;a quote......".Those who make peacful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111025996465992782?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111025996465992782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111025996465992782' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111025996465992782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111025996465992782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/pass-dutchy-from-left-hand-side.html' title='Pass the dutchy from the left hand side'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-111013945391050533</id><published>2005-03-06T11:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T12:04:13.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday, bloody Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am very glad that I have every Sunday off. I think that no one should work on Sundays. Not for any religous purpose. It's just that ther's somehting about how a "Sunday" feels. It just feels different from the rest of the days in a week. Some Sundays I don't want to do anything, but lounge around. Maybe I'll clean up some, maybe I won't. What ever I feel like, I try not to commit to a project on this day. Everything could change, when I wake up that morning. I am a home body, so to speak. I enjoy realxing in my home on my down time. I enjoy being with my son, and just chillin' out. I work alot,so I feel this justifies me, in doing whatever. Should I be more outgoing? Should I be going out into the world. To parks, and museums? I mean I Do, do these things, but only once in awhile. Also, I don't go out at night hardly at all anymore. I used to go out all the time. Now I feel too "mom-ish". or something. But back to Sundays. Once Sunday evening comes, I start to feel a litlle  anxious. It's because I know I have to go to work the next day, and start another week. Seemily, all my weeks are redundant, and  pretty scheduled out. I have like 3 months planned out, from now. My son has alot of Dr's appointments,and therapy. Then work with three, 12's and a 9 hour Saturday. I had this Saturday off because, my friend came into town. Anyways, my point is that I like to do nothing on Sunday, because it's the only time I can. And I like it!! So I hope that who ever reads this had a good, relaxing Sunday!!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a quote&lt;/strong&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111013945391050533?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111013945391050533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111013945391050533' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111013945391050533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111013945391050533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/sunday-bloody-sunday.html' title='Sunday, bloody Sunday'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-111000537795290440</id><published>2005-03-04T21:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T03:43:49.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where am I ??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sometimes I think to myself, am I alive. Am I really real? Then I realize I am real, because I feel (I know that rhymes). Days go by for me, like a fog. I am always working to work, or working to take care of someone or something. In a repetitive, &amp;amp; uncertain part of my life, I now feel that I-me-mellow, has been lost. I feel that my brain might explode from an overdose of this reality, in which I exist. Perhaps, I could get organized and stand up, like a pillar of strength. A tall, well constructed pillar, so I have a definitive view. But in my reality, it's better to be numb, somewhat disengaged. I am always there. ALWAYS. But I-mellow am gone. Maybe I have taken a long nap. A nap in which I desperately want to awake. I-mellow, can be emotional and over analytical. This is my gift and my downfall. To care, and to care too much. My reality requires a consistency I had never known. A process by which, I became robotic. Digesting more and more input. Working to live, helping to live, and learning to live. I sometimes forget, why I am doing this. I miss me-mellow-I. Maybe someday, this message will be clear to me. I just hope that a life, this life, my life, won't be forgotten. I can love so much, but it scares me. And I can be a blast, but I feel undeserving. Will I change. I am open, and ready for my future, whatever it might bring. I am a self less, optomistic, pupil. Eager to learn how my creation lives through me. In that, I will never be forgotten. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;a quote......."The question should be, is it worth trying to do, not can it be done. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-111000537795290440?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/111000537795290440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=111000537795290440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111000537795290440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/111000537795290440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/where-am-i.html' title='Where am I ??'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110982305591199385</id><published>2005-03-02T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T20:10:55.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Questions from: Martinilove :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;1. What person from a movie would you like to be if you could be any, what movie and what scene? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I would be Christian Slater in the movie "Heathers". Him and Winona Ryder are sitting in her car outside of their school, right after they killed the 2 football players. Winona Ryder takes the push lighter from the car and burns her hand with it (out of guilt for her killing spree). Christian Slater then takes her hand and uses it to light his cigarette. It's a classic part, in a classic movie. Everytime I see it I laugh my ass off!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;2. If someone direct deposited a million dollars into your account, what would you do? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Well this sort of thing would have to be a mistake. So I think I would imediately withdraw the money. I would be feeling totally guilty, so I would make some charity donations, with at least half of it ( St. Jude's Hospital, a battered women's shelter). I would then pay off anything left that is in my name, and move to San Diego, so I could live near the beach. I would have to save enough money to buy my own pottery wheel &amp; kiln. Ahhh sounds like heaven!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;3. Do you think Jim Morrison is still alive? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;No. He was a legend in his time. However, he was self destructive and lost in his own world. Dying young was inevitable for him. Which is very sad, because he had a beautiful mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;4.Do you have any regrets? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Absolutely! It's too bad too. I never really thought about things, before I acted. I was a live for the moment girl in my early 20's. I let myself be manipulated, and in my previous relationship, I let him hurt me (physically &amp;amp; mentally), and I never said anything. All, so I could keep peace. I wish I valued school, and my mother more growing up. Instead I partied hard, and got into trouble. I do have great memories. Some of which I needed to experience, in order to be the person I am today. I just wish I valued myself, thru my journey. I might have experienced less pain, and heartache. Such is life. I have a beautiful baby, a few GREAT friends, and an awesome mother. I am lucky to have lived &amp; learned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;5.If you could read peoples minds, would you want to get rid of that power? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Sometimes, I think I can, and then I realize, it's probably obvious to everyone. No, I don't think I would want to be able to read people's minds. Truthfully, my job &amp;amp; my son have opened my eyes to people. Maybe I am just bitter, but I have alot of doubt in people. I have seen first hand at work, how people can be very mean. They assume to know me, and if they are inconvenienced, they will tear me down &amp;amp; rip me apart, without a care in the world. People are judgemental, ignorant, and at times ruthless. So do I want to REALLY know what they are thinking about me......no thank you. I tend to be sensative, so I don't care to see inside the minds of those who lack compassion. And as far as the goodness in people. Well, that seems to show thru no matter what. So there would be no need to read their minds, because I'm sure it shows all around them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Thank you for my questions!!! They were perfect!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110982305591199385?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110982305591199385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110982305591199385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110982305591199385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110982305591199385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-answers.html' title='My answers'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110981460396939138</id><published>2005-03-02T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T17:50:03.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Ok, I am going to talk about driving today. My view on driving tends to change, depending on my mood. There are times where driving to me is a very big hassle. Especially on the freeways. It seems like a mutation of "stupid" drivers are emerging. They are those people who tailgate (the worst), those who don't use their blinker (annoying), and those who are too old to be driving (IRRITATING). Just to name a few. Now the tailgaters are my arch rival. If I wasn't afraid of the road rage epidemic, I would slam on my breaks or flip them the bird. Those who don't use their turn signals get an automatic "middle finger", just because there's a reason the turn signal was put in the car in the first place. The "too old to be driving" drivers, you just have to grit your teeth and pass. Later you can rant about how much you hate them, to a co-worker or someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Then, there are times when I feel like a "god" when I'm driving. When I have just the right music playing, &amp;amp; when I am wearing my sunglasses ( just got a pair and they are totally ROCK STAR). Times like these, I will sing to my heart's content, and lean back, and pass everyone. Times like these, make driving with the rest of those idiots, tolerable. And with a smile on my face, me, and my car are so cool (I have a mom car, a Mitsubishi, Outlander). My favorite driving music right now, is Eazy-E. Listening to Eazy-E and driving, gives me a rush ( I know I'm lame!). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;It is inevitable that I must drive for the rest of my life. I just hope that I have more "god-like" driving days! (I hope that's not bad, I gave myself a "god-like" title while I'm driving. But that's how it feels) Drive safely, and buckle up!!! (I had to say that!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Happy motoring!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;a quote....."Your subconscious, is your burning hell" -- excerpt from 311's song 'Flowing'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110981460396939138?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110981460396939138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110981460396939138' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110981460396939138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110981460396939138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/driving.html' title='Driving'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110974066025847029</id><published>2005-03-01T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T21:17:40.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to judge, or not to judge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Judging people is, I guess in our nature, but to tell you the truth I think it sucks. Every day there is judging. How you look, what you wear, what you say. To some extent, it is necessary to judge, so that you may be aware of those around you.  For me, I am in a relationship, and I have a baby. However I am not married, and people tend to throw me the evil glare. Like I am this monster that has just killed someone. For me marriage isn't something you do just because you have a baby. I think that until someone has been in my shoes, they can not say anything about the decisions I make. Also, my baby is   devolpmentally delayed. Which is  a whole other issue ( I could go on forever).  Right here is a situation totally open for judgement. What did she do (me), why isn't he doing this, how come he can't do that. I feel we are an open target for critism, and judgement. This I never realized, until I was faced with my present situation. People don't like what is not normal and the same. And they will point fingers very quickly. It's very sad when a total stranger, passes judgement on me or my son, and the fact is, that they would rather have it that way, than to simply ask why. Try to, instead of assuming, try asking. Or if that is uncomfortable, turn that judgement around in yourself. And ask how can I focus on myself, rather than notice what's different about others. I am doing everything I can for my baby, and no one has ever asked me about that. All people have feelings and we all just want to be loved. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;* Sorry to be a downer, but I think &amp;amp; feel, therefore I write. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;a quote.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"an eye for an eye, makes the whole world blind."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110974066025847029?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110974066025847029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110974066025847029' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110974066025847029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110974066025847029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/03/to-judge-or-not-to-judge.html' title='to judge, or not to judge'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10954068.post-110945903699069154</id><published>2005-02-26T13:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T15:03:56.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In my Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;There are places I remember,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;all my life, though some have changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Some forever, not for better,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;some have gone, and some remain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;All these places have their moments,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;with lovers and friends, I still can recall..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Some are dead and some are living, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;in my life, I've loved them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But of all these friends and lovers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;there is no one, compares with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And these memories lose their meaning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;When I think of love, as something new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Though I know I'll never lose affection,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;for people and things, that went before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I know I'll often stop think about them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;in my life, I love you more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;In my life, I love you more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;a song by the Beatles , In my Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;When I first heard this song, I felt it deeply. And I wanted it to be played at my funeral. Is that a totally horrible? Because sometimes, when I tell people that, they think I am nuts. Just another way music has effected me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;a quote...."There is always some madness in love. But there is also some reason in madness."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110945903699069154?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110945903699069154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110945903699069154' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110945903699069154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110945903699069154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/02/in-my-life.html' title='In my Life'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110939403932320284</id><published>2005-02-25T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T21:00:39.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't buy me love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I feel that I think too much. I analyze people and how they act, and what they say. Sometimes I feel that I create my own fantasy world of untruth. Then sometimes I think I am psychic. Like I can tell things before they happen, or I know what people are really thinking. This here is my over analyzing. And at certain times, it totally drives me crazy. Is it better to say everything that you're thinking, even if it is rude or hurtful? Or is it better to keep things inside, leaving those thoughts unspoken? This is the question that I ponder. And when it comes to love, there is never going to be a person who lets the other be truthful. It's all about pleasing one's self &amp; not speaking, if there's a problem. At  least in my instance, I believe I attract the selfish, and try to hold on to the past. To a time when there were no worries. To a time with no reason to release emotion. Love is a car accident waiting to happen. With broken pieces left, that no amount of money can put back together. In my thinking, analyzing thoughts, is like owning a gun. It's protection that could keep me alive. Although, I would never buy a gun....so I'll change that to a CHAINSAW, and hack everything that is a threat, into little itty bitty pieces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;"I promise, I am not a serial killer or anything, just alone in an empty relationship, with to much time to think."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;     a quote....."People are strange, when you're a stranger. Faces look ugly when you're alone."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110939403932320284?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110939403932320284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110939403932320284' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110939403932320284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110939403932320284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/02/cant-buy-me-love.html' title='Can&apos;t buy me love'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110926615854135008</id><published>2005-02-24T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T09:32:07.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beethoven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;~ Today it was Beethoven for breakfast. They say classical music enhances brain activity. Interesting, I wonder if that apply's to adults as well. I know a couple people that should probably listen to it. It's funny how music can have such an effect on someone. Whether it's a baby, teen ager, or adult. We all seem to be calmed by music. Music to me is the best friend I have had throughout my whole life. I could always count on music, every kind, to help me. People I have met throughout my life have introduced a major musical band to me, that I will always remember them for. I hope someday to pass my music on to my baby. I hope he feels the way I do, and let's music be part of his soul, like his MAMA!!! So on with the Beethoven, so I can clean my kitchen. Hopefully it will enhance my brain power so that I can do some laundry too!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;a quote...... " One good thing about music, when it hits, you'll feel no pain."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110926615854135008?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110926615854135008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110926615854135008' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110926615854135008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110926615854135008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/02/beethoven.html' title='Beethoven'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110892123251575291</id><published>2005-02-20T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T09:40:32.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>S.S.D.D.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"&gt;S.S.D.D. means Same Shit Different Day. I am referring to Loan Mart. That is where I have worked for 3 years now. Loan Mart =  turds!!!! Where should I begin.....Friday 2/18 a customer came into the store and started simple conversation. He happened to be a regular, and I enjoy chatting away with them while their loan runs. So this "douche" gets out his cash to pay for his refinance, and he is $10 short. He then says, " MYMELLOWME (aka - me) told me it was this, and now she's saying it's that!"  I told the customer that I made a simple math error, but that's why we give  envelopes, with their loan docs. highlighted and written out. In case of a mistake they can refer back. Well he then says right to my face, " I didn't like you the minute I met you, and now I know why!" I tell you I could have freakin ripped his head off and stuffed his loan documents down his throat, and then lit them on fire. Now I have held his loan when he couldn't make it in. I have also held his wife's loan, as a courtesy. This is my payback, total harassment, on the busiest, longset day of the week. THANKS ASSHOLE!!! I get bitched at like this, at least once a day, for some lame crap. One lady told me to "fuck off" because I was too NICE!!! That's pretty shitty of me. The worst, was when a lady spit on me, because I told her I needed a phone bill. Yeah that is so awesome to get spit on! Not to mention, my coorperate office is a joke!!! I had to wipe down the base boards of the store with baby oil - (tedious),  and then I had to vaccuum the brick walls. Could someone tell me how to vaccuum a god damn brick wall, please!!! Needless to say, Loan Mart is the thorn in my side. I stay for the bennefits, and the flexible schedule, but as far as I'm concerned, Loan Mart can kiss my ARSE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  *** a quote for the day..... "If you don't have anything nice to say, keep your stinking mouth shut, cause I don't give fuck!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110892123251575291?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110892123251575291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110892123251575291' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110892123251575291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110892123251575291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/02/ssdd.html' title='S.S.D.D.'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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-10954068.post-110888068316476532</id><published>2005-02-19T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T22:24:43.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So I married an axe murderer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I tend to obsess sometimes. So the title of my first blog happens to be an obsession. So &lt;em&gt;I Married an Axe Murderer is my movie of choice. It's totally corny, and I love it. When I think about why I like it, I am not sure. But it's senseless, and cheesey, and is just what I need to make me happy.  As a person living life, I am lost to a fight. A fight where I am the voice, a fight where I have an unknown enemy. In this struggle, I crave whatever it is, that reminds me of me. One thing I can always count on, is the certainty of my laugh. Which is always welcome, and not hard to do. As long as I have some crazy obsession, I have a reason to maintain. And in my self maitenance, comes the strenghth to speak, teach, fear, feel, touch, hold, and protect. My sole purpose is to help "the one", who can not help himself. With such a heavy responsiblity, the responsibility to NEVER let down, NEVER give up, and NEVER lose strenghth. My ability to lose myself in a movie, is like recieving the Publisher's Clearing House Sweapstakes, it's an oddity in itself. And to be truthful, my brain hurts sometimes, so I am relieved to be senseless, and cheesey, and laugh so hard, soda squirts out of my nose!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;  ** a quote for today......  "such is life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10954068-110888068316476532?l=mymellowme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/feeds/110888068316476532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10954068&amp;postID=110888068316476532' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110888068316476532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10954068/posts/default/110888068316476532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymellowme.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-i-married-axe-murderer.html' title='So I married an axe murderer'/><author><name>MyMellowMe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17111917962659193464</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></feed>
