<?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-3744932527722480063</id><updated>2012-02-09T08:19:41.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ventventventventvent</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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>142</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3744932527722480063.post-326682306576625466</id><published>2010-08-18T14:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T14:40:54.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There are those "30 Day Challenge" things on Tumblr. Now I don't have the patience to do that over the course of 30 days, so I'm gonna do a huge blog post now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Day 01- A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs187.ash2/45020_10150247018155471_668090470_14145848_5328155_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;1. I'm going to Emerson College.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;2. I leave for college on the 30th, but a lot of my other friends leave much earlier. So it sucks saying goodbye to everybody.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;3. I just cut my hair off for Locks of Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;4. I have two sisters, an older one and a younger one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;5. I am addicted to Tumblr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;6. I have a friend who looks like Taylor Hotner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;7. My favorite TV show is either How I Met Your Mother or Glee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;8. I'm addicted to buying cute dresses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;9. I go to Lake George, New York every year with my dad's side of the family and it's wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;10. I love my friends more than anybody else in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;11. I have watched every episode of Survivor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;12. My favorite book is Looking for Alaska by John Green.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;13. My high school GPA was a 3.86&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;14. The only CD I currently have in my car is ALL CAPS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;15. I don't watch Doctor Who and I don't intend to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  color: rgb(34, 34, 34); line-height: 17px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Day 02- The meaning behind your Tumblr name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;T = Tara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Gal = I'm a girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;2 = My lucky number&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;27 = June 27th, my birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Day 03- A picture of you and your friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/%3C/span" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs533.snc3/30275_429829367888_502007888_5446859_3694973_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;or this one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs101.snc4/35436_438155612888_502007888_5693886_8074842_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(34, 34, 34); line-height: 17px; font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 04- A habit that you wish you didn’t have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Picking at my nail beds. It's weird, but I can't help it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 05- A picture of somewhere you’ve been to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs240.snc4/39362_1566012314288_1354810358_31524058_4513544_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 06- Favorite super hero and why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Superman is the essential super hero. Super strength, flying, just everything. I hate batman because he doesn't really have super powers, he just has a lot of money. And who wants to be a spider?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 07- A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2103/2478187317_cc5ae93360.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 08- Short term goals for this month and why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;1. Move into college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;2. Make friends at college&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Those are my goals because they are important to my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 09- Something you’re proud of in the past few days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Being responsible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 10- Songs you listen to when you are Happy, Sad, Bored, Hyped, Mad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Happy: Hey Soul Sister, Say Hey (I Love You), Summer of '09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I don't really have any other mood music, those are just the happiest songs I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 11- Another picture of you and your friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs330.ash1/28663_1282084415587_1334370976_31402493_38522_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 12- How you found out about Tumblr and why you made one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I followed a bunch of YouTubers on google reader and noticed that some of them had Tumblrs. So I made one and became addicted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 13- A letter to someone who has hurt you recently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Dear Emma,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I know, I'm the "Devil" and my friends are my "minions." I don't have a soul and I just use my powers to hurt you. I can understand why you were mad at me for some of the things I did. We were best friends and, from your point of view, I ditched you. But I did everything I could to save our friendship. I wanted to try to keep our friendship together, but it was impossible. You dragged me down with your constant negative attitude and complaining. You could never be happy for a whole day. You went out with David for two weeks, then cried about him for two months. And I was a good friend to you. I was a great friend to you. So was Wendy. So was Shafaq. We listened to you when you needed it. We wanted the best for you and for you to be happy, but we also wanted to be happy ourselves and you were preventing that. I tried to talk through it. We had phone calls where we talked about what was wrong, why we were drifting apart and why I couldn't stand you anymore. I wanted that to change, but it didn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;So I understand if you were upset about the way things happened. You lost all your friends. But that's no reason to talk so much shit about me. You don't need to call my friends "Tara and those bitches." You were talking shit about me well before I even had any problems with you. And that, Emma, is why you hurt me. I'm upset that I wasted my junior year on you and your useless problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Tara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 14- A picture of you and your family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;It's old, but...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs056.snc1/4506_86866528434_597373434_2006024_6068120_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 15- Put your iPod on shuffle: First 10 songs that play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;1. Good Night-- Kanye West ft. Mos Def&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;2. Don't Unplug Me -- All Caps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;3. Billionaire-- Travie McCoy ft. Bruno Mars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;4. Round &amp;amp; Round-- Selena Gomez &amp;amp; The Scene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;5. Summer of '09 -- All Caps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;6. Dynamite-- Taio Cruz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;7. I Hate College-- Sam Adams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;8. Just the Way You Are-- Bruno Mars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;9. Bulletproof-- La Roux&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;10. All We Are-- One Repubic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 16- Another picture of yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs330.ash1/28663_1282097495914_1334370976_31402531_99734_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 17- Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/75/l_921c63c2c23446d0a83d678821f13363.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Three words: Luke Fucking Conard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 18- Plans/dreams/goals you have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;1. Work on a program I enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;2. Be comfortable financially.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 19- Nicknames you have; why do you have them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;My only nicknames are T and TC. Tara and Tara Claire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 20- Someone you see yourself marrying/being with in the future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Tim. Jason. Luke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://dcfans.tv/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/selena-gomez-blue-bikini-monte-carlo-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Everybody is different from everybody else in that the combination of qualities they possess is unique. However, individual characteristics are never solely in one person, therefore, answering this question would just be a list of traits others also contain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 23- Something you crave for a lot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.carnivore.tv/images/Chipotle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 24- A letter to your parents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Dear parents,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I'll miss you, but thank God I'm leaving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Tara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 25- What I would find in your bag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;my cell phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;my keys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;tin foil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;5 lighters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;a note pad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;pencils&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;coins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 26- What you think about your friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I'll cry if I start to think about them right now. I love them a lot and I don't know how I'll survive without them in college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 27- Why are you doing this 30 day challenge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;These things always look interesting, but I never have time for them. 30 days is a long time. But I had a couple hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 28- A picture of you last year and now, how have you changed since then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I went to do it, but both pictures are pretty much identical, so it was useless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 29- In this past month, what have you learned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;How much I love my friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;Day 30- Who are you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"&gt;I am me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-326682306576625466?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/326682306576625466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=326682306576625466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/326682306576625466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/326682306576625466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/08/there-are-those-30-day-challenge-things.html' title=''/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2103/2478187317_cc5ae93360_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3744932527722480063.post-3433845390756948166</id><published>2010-05-10T20:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T21:21:29.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook Boredom Surveys</title><content type='html'>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;1. Made out for more than 3 minutes? Yes&lt;br /&gt;2. Slept in a different bed? Yes&lt;br /&gt;3. Made out in a movie theatre? No&lt;br /&gt;4. made out with 2 different people in one night? Yes&lt;br /&gt;5. Thought your cousin was hot? No&lt;br /&gt;6. Been in love? No&lt;br /&gt;7. Slept past noon? Yes&lt;br /&gt;8. Taken a shower with the opposite sex? No&lt;br /&gt;9. Gone over the speed limit? Yes&lt;br /&gt;10. Painted your room? No&lt;br /&gt;11. Drove a car? Yes&lt;br /&gt;12. Danced in front of your mirror? Yes&lt;br /&gt;13. Gotten a hickey? No&lt;br /&gt;14. Been dumped? Yes&lt;br /&gt;15. Stole money from a friend? No&lt;br /&gt;16. Gotten in a car with people you just met? Yes&lt;br /&gt;17. Been in a fist fight?  No&lt;br /&gt;18. Snuck out of your house? No&lt;br /&gt;19. Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?  Yes&lt;br /&gt;20. Been arrested? No&lt;br /&gt;21. Made out with a stranger? Yes&lt;br /&gt;22. Left your house with out telling your parents? No&lt;br /&gt;23. Had a crush on your neighbor? No&lt;br /&gt;24. Ditched school to do something more fun? No&lt;br /&gt;25. Slept in a bed with a member of the same or opposite sex? Yes&lt;br /&gt;26. Seen someone die? No, I cannot see Thestrals&lt;br /&gt;27. Been on a plane? Yes&lt;br /&gt;28. Kissed a picture? Only jokingly&lt;br /&gt;29. Slept in the opposite sex's bed? Yes&lt;br /&gt;30. Love someone or miss someone right now?  No&lt;br /&gt;31. Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by? Yes&lt;br /&gt;32. Made a snow angel? Yes&lt;br /&gt;33. Played dress up? Yes&lt;br /&gt;34. Cheated while playing a game? Yes&lt;br /&gt;35. Been lonely? Yes&lt;br /&gt;36. Fallen asleep at work/school Yes&lt;br /&gt;37. Been to a club? No&lt;br /&gt;38. Felt an earthquake? No&lt;br /&gt;39. Touched a snake? Yes&lt;br /&gt;40. Ran a red light? No&lt;br /&gt;41. Been suspended from school? No&lt;br /&gt;42. Had detention.. Yes&lt;br /&gt;43. Been in a car? Yes&lt;br /&gt;44. Hated the way you look? Yes&lt;br /&gt;45. Witnessed a crime? No&lt;br /&gt;46. Been lost? Yes&lt;br /&gt;47. Been to the opposite side of the country? Yes&lt;br /&gt;48. Felt like dying from embarrassment? Yes&lt;br /&gt;49. Cried yourself to sleep? Yes&lt;br /&gt;50. Sang karaoke? No&lt;br /&gt;51. Done something you told yourself you wouldn't do? Yes&lt;br /&gt;52. Laughed till some kind of beverage came out of your nose? Yes&lt;br /&gt;53. Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes&lt;br /&gt;54. Kissed in the rain? No&lt;br /&gt;55. Sung in the shower? Yes&lt;br /&gt;56. Had a dream that you married someone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;57. Played getting married? No&lt;br /&gt;58. Got your tongue stuck to a flag pole? No&lt;br /&gt;59. Ever gone to school partially nude? No&lt;br /&gt;60. Been a blind date? No&lt;br /&gt;61. Sat on a roof top?  No&lt;br /&gt;62. Didn't take a shower for a week? No&lt;br /&gt;63. Ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;64. Played chicken? No&lt;br /&gt;65. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yes&lt;br /&gt;66. Been told you're hot by a complete stranger? No&lt;br /&gt;67. Broken a bone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;68. Been easily amused? Yes&lt;br /&gt;69. Laugh so hard you cry? Yes&lt;br /&gt;70. Cheated on a test? Yes&lt;br /&gt;71. Forgotten someone's name? Yes&lt;br /&gt;72. Blacked out from drinking? No&lt;br /&gt;73. Played a prank on someone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;74. Gone to a late night movie? Yes&lt;br /&gt;75. Made love to anything not human? No&lt;br /&gt;76. Failed a class? No&lt;br /&gt;77. Choked on something you're not supposed to eat? No&lt;br /&gt;78. Played an instrument for more than 10 hours?No&lt;br /&gt;79. Cheated on a girlfriend/boyfriend? No&lt;br /&gt;80. Did you celebrate the 4th of July? Yes&lt;br /&gt;81. Thrown strange objects? No&lt;br /&gt;82. Felt like someone else? No...&lt;br /&gt;83. Thought about running away? Yes&lt;br /&gt;84. Ran away? No&lt;br /&gt;85. Had detention and not attend it? No&lt;br /&gt;86. Made parents cry? Yes&lt;br /&gt;87. Cried over someone? Yes&lt;br /&gt;88. Owned more than 5 sharpies? Yes&lt;br /&gt;89. Dated someone more than once? No&lt;br /&gt;90. Have a dog? Yes&lt;br /&gt;91. Own an instrument? Yes&lt;br /&gt;92. Been in a band? No&lt;br /&gt;93. Drank 25 sodas in a day? No&lt;br /&gt;94. Broken a cd? Yes&lt;br /&gt;95. Shot a gun? No&lt;br /&gt;96. Been on myspace for more than 5 hours? No&lt;br /&gt;97. Fell asleep at the computer? Yes&lt;br /&gt;98. Have a major crush on someone right now? No&lt;br /&gt;99. Have a religion? Yes&lt;br /&gt;100. Thought about what people would say at your funeral? Yes&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have the guts take this survey? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Would you do meth if it was legalized? No&lt;br /&gt;Abortion: for or against it? Pro-Abortion&lt;br /&gt;Do you think the world would fail with a female president? Not at all&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in the death penalty? No, not because I care about the criminals, but because it's more expensive to kill them than to keep them alive&lt;br /&gt;Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Are you for or against premarital sex? For&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in God? Yes&lt;br /&gt;Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Do you think it's wrong that so many Hispanics are illegally moving to the country? Yes, but you gotta do what you gotta do to provide for your family.&lt;br /&gt;A twelve year old girl has a baby, should she keep it? Hell no&lt;br /&gt;Should the alcohol age be lowered to eighteen? No&lt;br /&gt;Should the war in Iraq be called off? Yes, it should have been a long time ago. When we invaded, we should've invaded with more troops and just gotten the whole thing done. Now we're stuck.&lt;br /&gt;Assisted suicide is illegal: do you agree? No, but it must only occur in certain situations.&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in spanking children? Not like "whoopass" spanking, but a little slap does them good.&lt;br /&gt;Would you burn an American flag for a million dollars? Yes. I would burn anything for a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;Who do you think would be a better president: McCain or Obama? O.B.A.M.A.&lt;br /&gt;Do you think Obama will be killed? No, too much protection.&lt;br /&gt;Should child predators be forced to wear signs identifying themselves ? Like a star of David? No.&lt;br /&gt;Are you afraid others will judge you from reading some of your answers? No, I'm already very open about this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Open&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel? No&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? Out&lt;br /&gt;4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before? No&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you like to use post-it notes? yes&lt;br /&gt;6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? No, I never cut coupons&lt;br /&gt;7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees? Bear, for sure.&lt;br /&gt;8. Do you have freckles? Yes&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you always smile for pictures? No, I hate my smile&lt;br /&gt;10. What is your biggest pet peeve? I have too many... maybe stupid people pretending they run shit.&lt;br /&gt;11. Do you ever count your steps when you walk? Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;12. Have you ever peed in the woods? No&lt;br /&gt;13. What about pooped in the woods? No&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you ever dance even if theres no music playing? Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you chew your pens and pencils? Yeah, it's a bad habit&lt;br /&gt;16. How many people have you slept with this week? 0&lt;br /&gt;17. What size is your bed? Twin&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your Song of the week? Anything John Mayer&lt;br /&gt;19. Is it okay for guys to wear pink? Sure, if they like men.&lt;br /&gt;20. Do you still watch cartoons? Nope, except sometimes Family Guy&lt;br /&gt;21. Whats your least favorite movie? New Moon. There's one I like less, but I can't think of it now...&lt;br /&gt;22. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? In my closet. Nobody would ever find it.&lt;br /&gt;23. What do you drink with dinner? Diet Coke&lt;br /&gt;24. What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Nothing&lt;br /&gt;25. What is your favorite food? Chipotle&lt;br /&gt;26. What movies could you watch over and over and still love? Mean Girls&lt;br /&gt;27. Last person you kissed/kissed you? Dan&lt;br /&gt;28. Were you ever a boy/girl scout? Nope&lt;br /&gt;29. Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? How much money?&lt;br /&gt;30. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? Never&lt;br /&gt;31. Can you change the oil on a car? No idea how.&lt;br /&gt;32. Ever gotten a speeding ticket? Nope&lt;br /&gt;33. Ran out of gas? Nope&lt;br /&gt;34. Favorite kind of sandwich? salami, roast beef, and mayo&lt;br /&gt;35 Best thing to eat for breakfast? taylor ham, egg, and cheese on a bagel&lt;br /&gt;36. What is your usual bedtime? around 12, 1&lt;br /&gt;37. Are you lazy? Yes, so lazy!&lt;br /&gt;38. When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? Whatever my sister dressed up as&lt;br /&gt;39. What is your Chinese astrological sign? Monkey&lt;br /&gt;40. How many languages can you speak? 2, English and French-ish&lt;br /&gt;41. Do you have any magazine subscriptions? Not anymore, but I read People every week.&lt;br /&gt;42..Which are better legos or lincoln logs? Legos&lt;br /&gt;43. Are you stubborn? Yes&lt;br /&gt;44. Who is better...Leno or Letterman? Letterman&lt;br /&gt;45. Ever watch soap operas? Nope&lt;br /&gt;46. Afraid of heights? No, but afraid of falling&lt;br /&gt;47. Sing in the car? Only if Naturally comes on&lt;br /&gt;48. Dance in the shower? I would fall&lt;br /&gt;49. Dance in the car? Hand dancing&lt;br /&gt;50. Ever used a gun? Nope&lt;br /&gt;51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? Senior Portrait&lt;br /&gt;52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? Most are, Rent isn't&lt;br /&gt;53. Is Christmas stressful? Not at all&lt;br /&gt;54. Ever eat a pierogi? Yes, my mom makes them sometiems&lt;br /&gt;55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Cherry&lt;br /&gt;56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Lawyer, Yankee announcer&lt;br /&gt;57. Do you believe in ghosts? I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? ALL THE TIME&lt;br /&gt;59. Take a vitamin daily? Nope&lt;br /&gt;60. Wear slippers? Never&lt;br /&gt;61. Wear a bath robe? Sometimes. I have a really comfy one.&lt;br /&gt;62. What do you wear to bed? Anything.&lt;br /&gt;63. First concert? Green Day&lt;br /&gt;64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Wal-Mart is life, but I go to Target more often.&lt;br /&gt;65. Nike or Adidas? I really don't know the difference&lt;br /&gt;66.Cheetos Or Fritos? Fritos&lt;br /&gt;67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Sunflower seeds&lt;br /&gt;68. Ever hear of the group Tres Bien? No, but that means "very good"&lt;br /&gt;69. Ever take dance lessons? Yes, when I was little.&lt;br /&gt;70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? professional baseball player&lt;br /&gt;71. Can you curl your tongue? Yes&lt;br /&gt;72. Ever won a spelling bee? No&lt;br /&gt;73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yeah, that's retreat tears for you.&lt;br /&gt;74. Own any record albums? Yes&lt;br /&gt;75. Own a record player? Yes&lt;br /&gt;76. Regularly burn incense? Nope&lt;br /&gt;77. Ever been in love? I don't know... Possibly, but I won't know until I'm older.&lt;br /&gt;78. Who would you like to see in concert? John Mayer or Lady Gaga&lt;br /&gt;79. What was the last concert you saw? Battle of the Bands&lt;br /&gt;80.Hot tea or cold tea? Hot&lt;br /&gt;81.Tea or coffee? Tea&lt;br /&gt;82. Sugar or snickerdoodles? Sugar. What's a sinckerdoodle?&lt;br /&gt;83.Can you swim well? Yes, very well.&lt;br /&gt;84.Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yeah, are there people who can't?&lt;br /&gt;85. Are you patient? Pretty patient&lt;br /&gt;86. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ&lt;br /&gt;87.Ever won a contest? Nope&lt;br /&gt;88. Ever have plastic surgery? Nope&lt;br /&gt;89. Which are better black or green olives? Neither. I don't like olives.&lt;br /&gt;90.Can you knit or crochet? Both&lt;br /&gt;91. Best room for a fireplace? Living room&lt;br /&gt;92. Do you want to get married? Eventually&lt;br /&gt;93. If married, how long have you been married? I'm not married&lt;br /&gt;94. Who was your HS crush? I've had many.&lt;br /&gt;95. Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? Not usually. I'm good at arguing though. No fits.&lt;br /&gt;96. Do you have kids? No&lt;br /&gt;97. Do you want kids? Yes&lt;br /&gt;98. Whats your favorite color? Teal&lt;br /&gt;99. Do you miss anyone right now? Not really&lt;br /&gt;100. Did you watch, Next Great American Band on FOX? I started to, but I never got into it.&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41 FACTS: Today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Talk to a boy or girl you like?: I don't really have one person I like, so I don't know how to answer that.&lt;br /&gt;2. Learn anything new? Probably. I mean, I was in school for a day, so I have to had learned something.&lt;br /&gt;3. Talk to an expert? Yes, my TV teacher.&lt;br /&gt;4. Miss someone? Not really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FACTS: Last Person Who&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Laid in your bed other than you? I have no clue. I don't remember anybody ever doing that.&lt;br /&gt;6. Made you cry? My grandma, in a good way&lt;br /&gt;7. You went to the movies with? Kayla&lt;br /&gt;8. Went to the mall with you? Kayla&lt;br /&gt;9. You showered with? Nobody...&lt;br /&gt;10. Said they loved you? Is it sad that I don't even remember the last time somebody told me they loved me? But probably either Wendy or Marshall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FACTS: General stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Wheres your favorite hangout? My basement.&lt;br /&gt;12. What are you most scared of this second? Not being able to pay for college&lt;br /&gt;13. Does anyone like you? Sadly, yes. Only creepy people.&lt;br /&gt;14. Have you ever farted? Anybody who says no to this is dead.&lt;br /&gt;15. Are you lonely right now? No. Alone, but not lonely.&lt;br /&gt;16. Song stuck in your head right now? None&lt;br /&gt;17. Been on t.v or radio? Yes, that's sorta my thing.&lt;br /&gt;18. Ever liked someone who treated you like crap? Yeah, I do that all the time. I must hate myself or something.&lt;br /&gt;19. What color shirt do you have on now? No shirt. Black and white dress.&lt;br /&gt;20. Name three things that you do every day? Go on Facebook, watch TMZ, put on clothes&lt;br /&gt;21. Whats your favorite show? How I Met Your Mother&lt;br /&gt;22. Who got you to join Myspace? I don't even remember back to those days.&lt;br /&gt;23. Wish someone was next to you this morning when you woke up? No. I liked waking up alone.&lt;br /&gt;24. What web site do you visit the most? Probably Facebook or Tumblr&lt;br /&gt;25. Do you have plants in your room? No, they would be dead.&lt;br /&gt;26. Who was the last person to hug you? I don't even remember my last hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 SECRETS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. WHAT IS YOUR DISPLAY NAME ABOUT? I'm not sure if I know how to answer these questions...&lt;br /&gt;2. WHERE WAS YOUR DISPLAY PICTURE TAKEN? Greg's Car, if you're talking Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;3. WHATS YOUR HEADLINE MEAN? ventventventventvent is me venting.&lt;br /&gt;4. WHATS YOUR CURRENT MOOD? Bored, tired.&lt;br /&gt;5. WHATS YOUR MOST VALUED POSSESSION? I have no clue. I don't really value many posessions.&lt;br /&gt;6. HOW ARE THINGS IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP? Oh, my nonexistant relationship is great.&lt;br /&gt;7. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WOULD YOU? Only to way in the past so I could meet Jesus or Shakespeare or Ben Franklin. Somebody awesome.&lt;br /&gt;8. IF YOU COULD BE AN ANIMAL FOR A DAY, WHAT WOULD YOU BE? Human.&lt;br /&gt;9. EVER HAD A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE? I almost died when I was 7 months old.&lt;br /&gt;10.WHO IS YOUR MOST RECENT EX? Kenny, the dinosaur&lt;br /&gt;11. HAVE YOU EVER SANG IN FRONT OF A LARGE AUDIENCE? Only the people on Rainbow singing Umbrella&lt;br /&gt;12. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX? Probably just their face in general, nothing specific about it.&lt;br /&gt;13. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY ORDER FROM STARBUCKS? venti hot chocolate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3433845390756948166?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3433845390756948166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3433845390756948166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3433845390756948166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3433845390756948166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/05/facebook-boredom-surveys.html' title='Facebook Boredom Surveys'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-9192625510197894484</id><published>2010-04-18T23:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T00:06:30.328-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I'm Stressed</title><content type='html'>I've been really stressed out recently, and here's what I have on my plate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I should be going to Youth Group and Confirmation rehearsals, but I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;- French Club meetings, like, ALL THE FUCKING TIME!&lt;br /&gt;- AP Calculus test on May 5th&lt;br /&gt;- AP English test that I MUST get a 4 or a  on&lt;br /&gt;- Battle of the Bands on April 23rd&lt;br /&gt;- Prom on May 20th&lt;br /&gt;- Creative Writing homework. SO MUCH OF IT!!!&lt;br /&gt;- French 20 point assignment&lt;br /&gt;- I'm gonna start taking college courses in May...&lt;br /&gt;- Making enough money to go to Emerson... which happens to be $45,000 a year.&lt;br /&gt;- TV 2 Face Off coming up soon&lt;br /&gt;- Making commercials for Daily&lt;br /&gt;- Making commercials for the Class Officers&lt;br /&gt;- $105 prom bids&lt;br /&gt;- I need to find a prom dress!&lt;br /&gt;- Finding a job... ugh.&lt;br /&gt;- The chores my mother makes me do on top of all this.&lt;br /&gt;- Trying to impress stupid boys who don't care about me at all.&lt;br /&gt;- I have literally no money. I know that's come up  on this before, but it's very true and very stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish half this stuff would go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-9192625510197894484?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/9192625510197894484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=9192625510197894484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9192625510197894484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9192625510197894484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-im-stressed.html' title='Why I&apos;m Stressed'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6952119074681029758</id><published>2010-04-03T01:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T01:12:34.027-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Recently...</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged recently, mainly because I've had so much fun living, I don't have time to document it.  But here, briefly, are some things that have happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stations of the Cross went out without any trouble. It was wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;- I'm wearing Matt's necklace.&lt;br /&gt;- I hooked up with Seth. Bad news bears.&lt;br /&gt;- I hooked up with Solo. Yes, his name was Solo. He is a breakdancer.&lt;br /&gt;- I asked Greg to prom via Chipotle burrito.&lt;br /&gt;- I got rejected from the Emerson Honors Program.&lt;br /&gt;- I met somebody I like, but I like him so much I don't have the balls to talk to him.&lt;br /&gt;- New perfect CB&lt;br /&gt;- Antioch got rescheduled.&lt;br /&gt;- Became re-obsessed with Harry Potter and Mean Girls.&lt;br /&gt;- Planned a trip down to Harry Potter World.&lt;br /&gt;- Parties with friends. Funtimez&lt;br /&gt;- Fell even more in love with Ellen Degeneres.&lt;br /&gt;- Sucked at English.&lt;br /&gt;- Been mad stressed out about class officer stuff. We need to raise $17,000 for prom. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;- Had a vacation. A well-deserved vacation.&lt;br /&gt;- Became BFFLs with my teacher.&lt;br /&gt;- I visit Greg a lot. It's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there's been so much more and I could go into a lot of detail about everything, but I just don't have time. For some reason, I love not being able to have the words to describe things. Somehow, that makes them better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6952119074681029758?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6952119074681029758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6952119074681029758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6952119074681029758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6952119074681029758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/04/recently.html' title='Recently...'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8194792888238139092</id><published>2010-02-06T22:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T23:13:49.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>supah bowl and CB2</title><content type='html'>I've been preparing my Antioch talk. It's about how I only trust one person in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave my talk to the team and they really liked it, but I almost cried. I never cry when I'm practicing it, so I can only imagine what it's gonna be like on the night of the actual retreat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love everybody from church.  They're all so supportive of me and they really like my talks. One boy kept saying how amazing my talk was. Then he wrote on my facebook wall that my song was stuck in his head. I was too excited to write back though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a math test on Wednesday and I didn't know how to do any of the problems, so I brought them into church on Tuesday.  CB2 helped me with them, but he didn't know how to do them either. But he's amazing and gives me butterflies. And I want his dad's job. He works with NBC and... just wow. I want to be him. And CB2 is super hot. And is in AP Calc. And loves old school Disney movies. So yeah, he's pretty much perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I'm a huge fan of turning on movies on TV for the last couple minutes. I love the end of movies more than I like watching the whole thing. Just today, I saw the ending of Legally Blonde and Mean Girls. And now I'm turning on the end of The Parent Trap. RIP Natasha Richardson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super Bowl is tomorrow and I'm super pumped for it.  Originally, I was gonna go to my friend Ben's house to celebrate it, but that got canceled, so now I'm going to the same place I went last year.  One of my best friends, Marshall, is actually in Miami and going to the Super Bowl. I was making fun of him and how my seats are better because I'm watching it in a movie theater room while he's really far away from the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. I'm watching The Soup now. Fun stuff. I want to blog more this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burritos Eaten: 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Books Read: 4&lt;br /&gt;A Walk To Remember&lt;br /&gt;Miles to Go&lt;br /&gt;Fight Club&lt;br /&gt;The Nanny Diaries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies Seen: 9&lt;br /&gt;Amelie&lt;br /&gt;Zoolander&lt;br /&gt;Anchorman&lt;br /&gt;Ruins&lt;br /&gt;Monsters Inc.&lt;br /&gt;Bleu&lt;br /&gt;Dancer in the Dark&lt;br /&gt;What a Girl Wants&lt;br /&gt;Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8194792888238139092?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8194792888238139092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8194792888238139092' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8194792888238139092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8194792888238139092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/02/supah-bowl-and-cb2.html' title='supah bowl and CB2'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-385363522953091848</id><published>2010-01-30T16:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T16:29:42.547-05:00</updated><title type='text'>See You Next Tuesday</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in here in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my midterm recently.  I got a B on it, which was nice.  I also had projects in French and World Film and I got As on both of those.  Also, for the marking period, my lowest grade is a B in AP English, so I'm happy with my grades. I've improved a lot this marking period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, I went to visit Greg.  It was so much fun! We went to a frat party and it was so amazing. I met Greg's friend Alek who was awesome. I don't want to say too much about it, but let's just say that from what I remember, it was a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Shafaq finally did the greatest thing in the world.  Ususally, all of my friends are too scared to say anything to Emma and I end up being the only one doing it. But Emma quit Mock Trial. Quit. She was the captain of the team and the head of her side, but she doesn't give a shit about the team.  As long as it's on her college application, that's all that matters. The team had three days to train a new lawyer for her position. I don't use the word "cunt" loosely, but I've been using that word for her a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the other day, Shafaq and Marshall were walking in the hallway and Shafaq noticed Emma walking in front of her. She worked up the courage to say, "Hey Marshall, look at that cunt walking in front of us." Emma started walking faster.  They ran to catch up.  And one last time, to make sure she heard, Shafaq said, "Hey, look at that cunt in front of us." She kept walking. As she opened the door to her room, she turned around to open the door to her classroom, Emma said, "Hey Marshall, there's a cunt next to you, too." Now Shafaq won't take any of this shit, so she ran back into the classroom, looked to make sure there were no teachers, and flipped Emma off. In front of everybody. I love that girl so much and now it's open season for Emma abuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antioch is coming up in February and I'm working on my talk.  I'm nervous about it this time beacause it's a different talk and I talk about how much Greg means to me.  He'll be there, so it will be a little weird.  My talk is about Trust and how I don't trust anybody except him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a couple "diaries" I kept back in 2007 and it's weird reading back on them.  I was having issues with Emma back then too and how she was condescending to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I have time for. I need to go check my phone.  I hope I can update this more often in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Books Read: 4&lt;br /&gt;Burritos Eaten: 11&lt;br /&gt;Movies Seen: 7&lt;br /&gt;Amelie&lt;br /&gt;Zoolander&lt;br /&gt;Anchorman&lt;br /&gt;Ruins&lt;br /&gt;Monsters Inc.&lt;br /&gt;Bleu&lt;br /&gt;Dancer in the Dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-385363522953091848?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/385363522953091848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=385363522953091848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/385363522953091848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/385363522953091848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/01/see-you-next-tuesday.html' title='See You Next Tuesday'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2272179564865140194</id><published>2010-01-16T23:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T23:45:23.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Typical Emo Blog</title><content type='html'>I have low self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit about myself. No idea why, just do. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate thinking about how I look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last blog post, a lot of guy stuff has happened.&lt;br /&gt;Seth- "I won't make you pay for the alcohol if you hook up with me!"&lt;br /&gt;David- "But you're cute. I want to flirt with you, even if you think I'm gross."&lt;br /&gt;Dan- "You're cute. We're gonna hook up before the end of the night."&lt;br /&gt;Kevin- "You're hot! When are we gonna hook up?"&lt;br /&gt;Victor- "Wanna give me a blow job? I won't even remember this tomorrow, so it's not like it matters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, all... nice compliments. It sounds like I'm bragging writing them because I don't even believe them.  I mean sure, it feels nice when people say stuff to me, but I don't believe them at all. And I wish I saw what they see. The only person who compliments me regularly and (possibly) meaningfully is Dan. And he was the only one who I had semi-requited feelings for. (Not that he even had feelings for me... he just gets a lot of ass.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my self-esteem stems from every guy I've encountered in the past. First there was Jeff who made sure I would never trust a guy again... then there was Anthony/Kenny/Pav who made sure I felt like shit about myself (even if that wasn't their intention).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's the fact that now, anybody who I even have semi-feelings for doesn't like me. And maybe it's the fact that as soon as somebody does compliment me, I don't like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, it's a game. I want to hook up with somebody who's a challenge. I want to hook up with somebody who doesn't get much action because that means I'm special. That means I'm prettier or more interesting than the other girls there and that makes me feel good about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But those guys don't like me, so I feel shitty about myself. And that's why I do what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's a survey because I like these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Where were you 3 hours ago?&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in front of the TV studying for my math midterm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Who are you in love with?&lt;br /&gt;my best friend who has a girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Have you ever eaten a crayon?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting on my pink pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. When is the last time you went to the mall?&lt;br /&gt;Last week when I met up with Wayne, Bryan, and a few other cool kids for some fun activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Are you wearing socks right now?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Do you have a car worth over $2,000&lt;br /&gt;Well my parents paid $7,000 for it, but then I hit a deer. But we're getting it fixed... so yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When was the last time you drove out of town?&lt;br /&gt;when I went to Chipotle... which was 2 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Are you hot?&lt;br /&gt;I'm a very nice temperature right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What was the last thing you had to drink?&lt;br /&gt;agua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What are you wearing right now?&lt;br /&gt;Pants my aunt got me for christmas, a ZEfron shirt, and that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you wash your car or let the car wash do it?&lt;br /&gt;I've never needed to wash it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Last food that you ate?&lt;br /&gt;About 5 of my sister's fries from McDonald's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Where were you last week at this time?&lt;br /&gt;hahaha, at Bryan's house coming down from an intense high. Last week at this time was not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. When is the last time you ran?&lt;br /&gt;I make a point not to run. I enjoy skipping though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What's the last sporting event you watched?&lt;br /&gt;I watched my Pats get killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What is your favorite animal?&lt;br /&gt;Humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Your dream vacation?&lt;br /&gt;I would love to go to England to see everything there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Last person's house you were in?&lt;br /&gt;Probably Bryan's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Worst injury you've ever had?&lt;br /&gt;I've broken a shitload of bones, but the most annoying one was when I was on crutches for a couple weeks because of a bone bruise from a three legged race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Have you been in love?&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was, but I really wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Do you miss anyone right now?&lt;br /&gt;Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Last play you saw?&lt;br /&gt;My school's production of Dracula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;A rare love for and knowledge of sports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What are your plans for tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Studying some Calc. I'm so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Who is the last person you sent a message or comment?&lt;br /&gt;Wendy &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Next trip you are going to take?&lt;br /&gt;LBI! JERSEY SHORE BABY! FIST PUMPIN LIKE A CHAMP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Ever go to camp?&lt;br /&gt;I hated camp so much. Something about forcing kids to do activities they hate over the summer annoys me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Were you an honor roll student in school?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am quite intelligent and have a 3.8 GPA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. What do you want to know about the future?&lt;br /&gt;If I can afford college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Are you wearing any perfume or cologne?&lt;br /&gt;Nah, I don't own that shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Are you due sometime this year for a doctor's visit?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but I hate the doctor and wish I didn't have to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Where is your best friend?&lt;br /&gt;Probably at some airport getting ready to bomb something. Or at some party getting shitfaced. Depends on which best friend you're referring to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. How is your best friend?&lt;br /&gt;Recovering from a NONMONO illness, which is good because I thought he gave me mono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Do you have a tan?&lt;br /&gt;I don't tan, I burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. What are you listening to right now?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, but I will now turn on Pandora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Do you collect anything?&lt;br /&gt;Books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Who is the biggest gossiper you know?&lt;br /&gt;Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Last time you got stopped by a cop or pulled over?&lt;br /&gt;I've never been pulled over, but I had a close call last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, only all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. What does your last text message say?&lt;br /&gt;Just wondering haha me and rob are leaving noww I'm guessing doors are locked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Do you like hot sauce?&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't like anything hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Last time you took a shower?&lt;br /&gt;Aujourd'hui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Do you need to do laundry?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I always need to do laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. What is your heritage?&lt;br /&gt;Italian, Irish, English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Are you someone's best friend?&lt;br /&gt;I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Are you rich?&lt;br /&gt;I have no moneyz to go to college&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. What were you doing at 12AM last night?&lt;br /&gt;sleeeeepinggggg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My New Year's resolution was to read 50 books and eat 50 Chipotle burritos. I will log my statistics here:&lt;br /&gt;Total Books: 3&lt;br /&gt;Total Burritos: 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2272179564865140194?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2272179564865140194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2272179564865140194' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2272179564865140194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2272179564865140194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2010/01/typical-emo-blog.html' title='Typical Emo Blog'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-9006778921684508719</id><published>2009-12-29T10:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T10:54:45.411-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2009</title><content type='html'>Around this time last year, I was doing a Skype blog. I'm not sure whether it's arrogant of me or I'm doing it for the right reasons, but 2009 has been more about me than anybody else.  I've spent the majority of my time trying to figure out what makes me so insecure, so self-conscious, and so concerned about what other people think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year, one of my final blogs of 2009 will be about me and not about everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITH 2009 COMING TO AN END. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009: In The Beginning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you go on New Year's?&lt;br /&gt;I was at my house with Emma, my sister, and a bunch of her really really weird college friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you kiss anyone on New Year's?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009: All about YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you change at all this year?:&lt;br /&gt;I became badass this year.  I started to drink. I started to do other illegal things. But I also loosened up a little. I became a person I like more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you dye your hair?:&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I'm afraid of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get your hair cut?:&lt;br /&gt;Only trimmed. Growing that shit out for cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you change your style?:&lt;br /&gt;I've had the same style since I was 11. I can't possibly change it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were you in school?:&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I was in the school 17 hours at a time at points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get good grades?:&lt;br /&gt;Yes and no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you have a job?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. TV production and it was the best time ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you drive?:&lt;br /&gt;I got my license this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone close to you give birth?:&lt;br /&gt;Julie of Josh and Julie fame did! When I say "Josh and Julie fame" I mean they're the young couple that goes to my church. They're wonderful and Josh is really attractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you move at all?:&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you go on any vacations?:&lt;br /&gt;Lake George this year was the best one yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you leave the country at all?:&lt;br /&gt;I've never left the US of A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009: Your Love Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you break up with anyone?: &lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you meet anyone special?:&lt;br /&gt;I met a bunch of special people, but none that I've formed serious relationships with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009: Friends and Enemies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you meet any new friends this year?:&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much stuck with my Asians, but I got a lot closer to them. I also met a kid named Dan who is the funniest kid ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did any of your friendships end?:&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Thank God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you dislike anyone?:&lt;br /&gt;I hate 3 people in my school: Emma, Amy, and Jon. That's a very short list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you make any new enemies?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Emma and Jon. Amy and I have hated each other for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who were your closest friends?:&lt;br /&gt;Greg, Wendy, Shafaq, Sally. I have more close friends, but those people are at the core of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you grow apart from anyone?:&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you have any regrets when it comes to your friendships?:&lt;br /&gt;I'm very happy with my friendships this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you thinking about?&lt;br /&gt;What I'm gonna be doing chez Bryan later today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does your ex hate you?&lt;br /&gt;No, he actually loves me. Every time he gets drunk, he continues to apologize for what he did to me. It makes me feel superior, yet awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did you feel when you woke up today?&lt;br /&gt;Groggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you good at hiding your feelings?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I am, but people can never seem to read me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you ever be friends with someone that broke your heart?&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could change your eye color would you?&lt;br /&gt;Hell no. My eyes are beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who did you last get into a big argument with?&lt;br /&gt;Probably my mom. We fight all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had a big fight with a best friend?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Emma. Ended our friendship. Happy times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like to have long hair or short hair?&lt;br /&gt;I love long hair. I don't want it to be short, but it has to be if I want to cut 10 inches off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you over the age of 25?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you currently make your money?&lt;br /&gt;Allowance, holidays, and my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to get married &amp;amp; have children one day?&lt;br /&gt;Sore subject, but yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you kissed anyone in the last 4 hours?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. It's ten fucking forty nine. Who would i have kissed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many texts are in your inbox?&lt;br /&gt;11. I had to delete them recently so my parents wouldn't see my massive search for some illegal substances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you they loved you?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but I don't think he meant it. And Greg tells me he loves me, but that's different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was your last text message from?&lt;br /&gt;Shafag&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you rode in a car with?&lt;br /&gt;Tim drove me home from Alex's house. oh, that was a fun car ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you cried really, really hard?&lt;br /&gt;Rainbow Retreat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who took your profile picture?&lt;br /&gt;DebDebDeb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather smile over a lie or cry over the truth?&lt;br /&gt;Cry over the truth. Smiling over a lie always leads to crying over the truth anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s on your bedroom floor right now?&lt;br /&gt;EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you trust people too easily?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know... I have trust issues, but for good reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever cut class?&lt;br /&gt;I cut gym for 7 weeks this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had a baby with the last person you texted, what would the baby' s last name be?&lt;br /&gt;It would take my last name because we abuse Shafaq over  her last name too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many people are you texting?&lt;br /&gt;1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you be in bed within twenty minutes?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in bed right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the last non-alcoholic beverage you had?&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year have you ever been heartbroken?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. It was probably the worst time I've had in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you lose anyone this year?&lt;br /&gt;Nobody I was very close to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was this year the best one yet?&lt;br /&gt;Possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-9006778921684508719?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/9006778921684508719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=9006778921684508719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9006778921684508719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9006778921684508719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/12/goodbye-2009.html' title='Goodbye 2009'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-7110954986261682574</id><published>2009-12-12T20:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T21:31:11.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>EMERSON</title><content type='html'>Rainbow Retreat was last weekend. Here's the hot list:&lt;br /&gt;1. Tommy (who said it was impossible to hate me, so that made me happy)&lt;br /&gt;2. Jack (who made my cry by talking about his dad)&lt;br /&gt;3. Matt (who wrote really nice things about me on our sheets and looks like Taylor Lautner)&lt;br /&gt;4. Cody (who taught 8th grade with me and is hilarious)&lt;br /&gt;5. Chris (who can make fun of me all he wants and it's still funny because he's the most adorable person ever)&lt;br /&gt;6. Ben (who was my prayer partner!!!)&lt;br /&gt;7. Mike (who y'all may know as Church Boy or CB)&lt;br /&gt;8. Dan (who I had a really cute moment with... he was comforting me when I was sad and it was nice)&lt;br /&gt;9. Ron (who is related to the guy who founded that surf shop thing)&lt;br /&gt;10. Casey (who admires Cody and is adorable about it)&lt;br /&gt;Honorable Mention: Josh (who is a dad!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg held my hand. I hugged everybody. I cried. I made Meg cry. The girls like me. All is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I like Tim or not, but if you want to know who he is, this is him:&lt;br /&gt;http://mapdigital.com/events/siemens/sc09/vod_present.html?webcast_id=kunisky&amp;amp;speed=high&amp;amp;player_type=Windows%20Media&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I hit that.&lt;br /&gt;No, I have no clue what he's talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't talked to him since, but he says hi to me in the halls which is a good sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, me and Tim has become the running joke of the nerd friends... as I will explain now.&lt;br /&gt;Emma used to really like Tim. She tried for a year to get him, but never could. I tried for three seconds and it just sorta happened. She's a psycho bitch who would get mad if she found out that I hooked up with him... so of course we made sure she knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He recently won $20,000 as part of a smart people award. My friends (and Emma) were talking about how cool it would be if he were famous. Emma said, "Yeah, I could tell my children that he was the kid who I used to give sneak hugs and poke with pencils." Well Emma, I could say, "Yeah, Tim? I made out with that on a freezing basement floor while at a high school party."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Emma is mad because "Tim is always nasty to her." My response? "Yeah, well Tim was nasty to me too. AYOH!" By the way, Tim hates Emma. So does everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now we have a situation on our hands.  There's this guy Nick. He's really nice and funny and I was friends with him. Then I started to suspect that he liked me. I felt bad because I didn't like him like that, but I had never even entertained the thought. Things weren't happening with Tim and I thought, "It would be really nice if I could just like Nick and we could date." So I started talking to Nick, flirting with him a little, and being nice to him. Well, it turns out I don't like him and that will never happen. However, I may have led him on a little and now he really really really likes me. It's gotten to the point where it's creepy. He follows me around. He jokes about raping me. Ha ha. Not funny. It could happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's now the joke of the TV studio. They make fun of me for it and I just feel terrible (and a little scared that my virginity might be stolen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's good old Jacob. I can't decide whether I love him or hate him. He's so funny, but he's only funny because he's mean to other people. We tried to keep a tally of how many funny things he said and how many of those were insults.  He didn't say a single funny, non-insulting thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear back from Emerson on Monday.  I'm super nervous because I have my heart set on going there.  I could imagine myself living there and being there and everything... I just want to go! (Plus, but this is not related to my decision at all, Tim is probably going to MIT which is also in Boston, so we could hang out all the time.) They put the decisions online at 1:00 on Monday, so I'll be in school. I hate school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't stay home from school sick because of awesome stuff.  I wrote an essay for a Creative Writing class that got chosen to be submitted for a contest.  I was really proud that it got chosen, but I don't really like the essay.  But I have Creative Writing 7th period and I need to be in that class to fill out a survey and have my essay submitted.  That class is at 1:00.  I won't be able to check my application because she'll be too busy reading my essay out loud to the whole class!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm freaking out.  I got an email saying they got 2,000 applications for early action.  That's a lot.  I don't think I got accepted.  UGH I'M SO SCARED!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a huge English project due Monday, but I started my Pokemon Red over, so that's eating up all my time.  I've played a total of 17 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much can't breathe I'm so nervous about this Emerson thing. AAAAHHHHHH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tomorrow is another church day. I'm excited. This is the plan:&lt;br /&gt;11-12:30 Welcoming Mass&lt;br /&gt;4-7 Team Prayer and Dinner&lt;br /&gt;7-9 Youth Group Party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That gives me from when I wake up until 11, from 12:30 to 4, and from 9 until I go to bed to get my work done. That's not enough time. I should be doing it now, but I just can't! I can't even think straight. There's too much pressure on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far from my school, we have a bunch of Cornell acceptances, a U Penn, a Duke, an NYU, and so many others. It's a little crazy. People are getting in left and right and I feel a little out of the loop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably go do work, then watch Taylor Lautner on SNL. That's gonna be sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been fun reconnecting with you, Blog. I hope to do it again soon. I really want to do BEDA again this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-7110954986261682574?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/7110954986261682574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=7110954986261682574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7110954986261682574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7110954986261682574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/12/emerson.html' title='EMERSON'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5600698218626740244</id><published>2009-11-27T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T13:54:07.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hooked up with Tim.</title><content type='html'>A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5600698218626740244?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5600698218626740244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5600698218626740244' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5600698218626740244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5600698218626740244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-hooked-up-with-tim.html' title='I hooked up with Tim.'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6137404916056814096</id><published>2009-11-22T15:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T16:14:16.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>J</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I've written anything here (or been online at all).&lt;br /&gt;The reason for that is because my computer decided to fail on me. I'm getting a new one for graduation, so I don't feel like it's worth it to spend a bunch of money getting it fixed. However, until June, I am sans computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has been pretty boring except for Boy Situation.  I think I might like J... but I don't want to. There are so many reasons why I shouldn't.  My two best friends think he's a total douche.  Everybody thinks he's a total douche.  I see him way too often and if we broke up, it would be awkward. We work together.  Everybody in TV would be talking about us. And if I admit to myself that I like him, I'll be super awkward around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he's tall. He's reasonably attractive (think of Andy Samburg with different hair). He's really funny. We get along really well. He respects me as his television superior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have self-esteem issues. I don't think highly enough of myself to take any kind of a leap and let him know I like him. There have been so many opportunities where I could've said something small and cute, but no. I'm afraid of rejection. I've been shot down too many times to deal with it again, so I'm trying to make him do all the work. That's not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on top of all this, the annual Rainbow Retreat is coming up.  If anybody remembers last February, we had last year's and I was an emotional wreck a whole week before.  I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm giving the same talk this year that I gave last year and I'm even more nervous.  These kids hate me.  Will they comfort me at all when I'm done talking? Will they laugh at me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just know I'll be as emotional this year as I was last year.  Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's in less than two weeks and I'm freaking out.  I just hope it's worth it in the end...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm super pissed.  My favorite teacher had the nerve to get pregnant.  She's 4 months pregnant and she'll be leaving before the end of the year. How dare she have a baby and ruin my senior year! In all seriousness, I'm a little upset because we'll be getting a substitute and that might mean I'll have to actually do work in that class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just feeling a little down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6137404916056814096?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6137404916056814096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6137404916056814096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6137404916056814096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6137404916056814096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/11/j.html' title='J'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3633179460645181298</id><published>2009-10-24T00:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T21:36:03.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Television Studio Love</title><content type='html'>I don't even know where to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in a fight with this douche named Jon. We were yelling and insulting each other. He was a complete tool in the argument. Now, I'm being so nice to him it's scary. I told him his shirt brought out the color in his eyes. I mainly do it because he comes to school high and it's fun to see him flipping out over the fact that I'm being nice to him. What a weird kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked TD at a volleyball game and it was easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the orthopedist and he said it's 3 to  more weeks of not being able to do physical activity, although he does want me to slowly get myself off crutches. Plus, he was a hot asian dude. Oh yeah, and THREE PHYSICAL THERAPY SESSIONS A WEEK! That scares the shit out of me. I don't want people touching my knee or making me bend it. It hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;List of Boys I'll Be Mentioning:&lt;br /&gt;Eric- He's in AM Wired. He's 6'2", plays the guitar, is a French Jew, watches all the TV shows I do, is president of improv club, and he's really sarcastic, just like me.&lt;br /&gt;Max- He's dyslexic, so I type things up for him. He's also in AM Wired. He's a karate master and is going to the junior olympics. He's like a little kid, but he smokes so much weed. He's my bitch.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob- I help him with his TV 2 stuff. He tries really hard. For a couple weeks, he knew my name but I had no clue what his was and I felt like a bitch. He's sarcastic. Some people hate him, but I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric and Max are two of my favorite people in AM Wired. They're both so funny! I pretty much laugh at everything Max says because he's the most ridiculous person in the world. He'll do anything. He took my crutches and was jumping around on them and fell a couple times. Eric and I started talking by having a three minute conversation about binders. We always make fun of each other and say we hate each other, but that's not true. We really love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My school has a pretty sick TV studio. It consists of three levels (with maybe 5 or 6 stairs going down to each level). The top level is the control room complete with VTR board, audio board, switcher, moniters, and everything else you need to produce a show. The second level is the set which includes a game show set, a set for our morning TV show, a talk show set that looks like a living room, a teleprompter, lighting, a blue curtain (for chroma keying), a black curtain, and cameras. The third level is post production complete with four editing booths and three editing suites, each equipped with Final Cut Pro. Post-Production is a wonderful place to go hang out, so that's what I do. Very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 9 periods in the school day. I have 1st period AM Wired in the TV Studio. I have 4th period lunch... so I go to the TV Studio. I have 5th period gym and I'm out for injury... so I'm in the TV Studio. Then I have 9th period Advanced Television Production... in the TV Studio. That's about 3 hours a day total in that studio and I love every second of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now a little TV clique is starting to develop. We're the people who are always in the studio. We're so comfortable there, we started ordering pizza to the school. That clique is pretty much me, Ben, Julia, Eric, and Lauren. We stay after school every day and sometimes until 11:00. It's fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 4th period for lunch, there's another Advanced TV class going on. I don't do anything that period except homework. One day, somebody popped out of an editing suite and asked my teacher if he had a blank CD to get songs from one computer to another. The teacher didn't, so I was like, "Well if you can find an .aiff file on the computer, you can import it into Final Cut, record it onto DV, then log and caputere that DV onto the other computer." The teacher was like, "Yeah, do that." So I showed the kid how to do it (aka I did it for him). Ever since then, whenever he's had a question, I've just answered it for him instead of him going to the teacher. That kid is Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was a football game. The football games are the biggest productions for the LTV crew. We set up right after school, took a 30 minute  break for dinner, and stayed through until 10:30. I was the Technical Director (the person who pushes the buttons) and Jacob was the Director (the person who tells me which buttons to push). He is PSYCHOTIC! He was yelling at all the camera people and pretty much flipping a shit. He would point to the TV screens to tell the people what to zoom in on and Julia would be like, "Dude, chill out. They have no idea what they're pointing at. They can't see you." But I think he did a really good job of making sure the game ran smoothly. He would also start to yell at me then be like, "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't yell at you. You're too good for that." That was an ego boost. And I was told that next week, I'm probably gonna be the instant replay person which is a really tough job that nobody ever does. I'm honored, excited, and a little bit nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric and Max were also at that game. They were in the box, but they went to the van to help us out (or distract us. I'm still not sure) near the end of the game. Jacob would get so mad because they were distracting us, but I love Eric and Max so I didn't give a shit. Overall, it was such an amazing experience and it made me realize how much I want to go into television production.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started recording the halloween show and now we have to redo the whole thing. I feel terrible because it's partially my fault. My camera's settings were weird and I didn't realize it. It'll get done, it's just a matter of how well it'll be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I went to the orthopedist. He said I have a bone bruise and it'll be 3 to 5 weeks until I'm fully healed, so I'm out of gym for that long. I guess that's a good thing, but I hate the crutches. I want to throw them out the window. I'm starting to use a cane instead because it's so much easier, but it makes me look so dumb. I might want to just pimp out a cane. That might work better.... I'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we finished Les Miserables in English class. It was SO GOOD! And there's a video on the interwebz of Jason Segel and Neil Patrick Harris singing the Confrontation song on a talk show. It makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a 20/60 on a math quiz. It made me sad. Now I have to work my ass off just to get a C in that class. Fucksicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about all I can think of to say for today. The first Youth Group meeting of the season is tomorrow and I'm really excited. Au revoir pour now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3633179460645181298?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3633179460645181298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3633179460645181298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3633179460645181298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3633179460645181298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/10/television-studio-love.html' title='Television Studio Love'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1255859123857693241</id><published>2009-10-11T17:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T18:30:59.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life Lately</title><content type='html'>Hello blog. It's been a while. Here are some things I need to tell you about:&lt;br /&gt;1. The Television Studio&lt;br /&gt;2. My Knee&lt;br /&gt;3. Homecoming&lt;br /&gt;4. College Applications&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past week, I think I've spent more time at the TV studio than I have at my own house.  Friday I stayed after school editing the spirit week commercial. I stayed from 3:00 to 7:00. I was there mainly with Chris and Harris, two of the funniest kids ever. When I left, Daily was like, "Good work Tara." I like it when Daily is nice to me. It makes me giddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I stayed after to help out with the filming of the ribbon cutting ceremony, but half the crew didn't show up so I ended up being technical director of that show. After that, me Ben and Julia ended up chilling in the TV studio until 11:00 at night. It was so much fun and we just talked about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I produced the Homecoming commercial. I had 2 camera people, 2 actors, and the entire marching band to control. We stayed until 10:30 to pretty much finish that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday after school we decorated the Senior hallway, then me, Jeff, and Danielle stayed until 9:00 to edit the most awesome opener ever. It was so legit. The weird thing is that most of the people I talked about editing with (Chris, Harris, Ben, Julia, Jeff, Danielle) are people I don't usually talk to outside of school. We all gave up our own time to edit for television and we became really close after that. I saw most of those people at homecoming and they were super nice to me when they usually wouldn't have talked to me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... my knee. I mentioned the Spirit Week commercial. Every year, our school has a Spirit Week where each day has a theme and you have to dress up as that theme. On Friday there's a huge Pep Rally, then on Saturday there's the homecoming dance. This week, the themes were:&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Sports Day&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: "Groovy Tuesday"&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Pajama Day&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Superhero Day&lt;br /&gt;Friday: Class Color Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm one of the four class officers in my grade, I was competing in little games in front of the whole school.  There were four people in each grade and the grade that won the most games would win a bagel breakfast.  One of those competitions was a three-legged race (where you tie peoples legs together and they have to run). I was paired with Jake (who is super cool and super nice) and it was a relay. The other class officers went first and they sucked, so Jake and I had to make up a lot of time. We sprinted. We won. We half tripped, half dove across the finish line and landed straight on my left knee. I couldn't put any weight on it or bend it for the rest of the Pep Rally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I iced it for the night then went to the doctor who says she thinks it's just a contusion, but she wants me on crutches with my knee wrapped for at least a week. That also means I'm out of gym class and I have to take the elevator for a week. It also meant I had to go to homecoming on crutches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOMECOMING!&lt;br /&gt;I went to set up and the teacher was completely shocked that I was hurt by the three legged race. I hope she feels bad for me because she's a total bitch and maybe that'll get me some brownie points. I ended up carving pumpkins with all those hilarious guys they couldn't trust to do anything else and it was so funny. I can't even count how many times somebody said, "This feels like a vagina!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The actual homecoming was okay. I had to collect tickets for a little while. It sucked because the teacher was breathing down my neck. A couple of my friends came in without their tickets and I wanted to just let them in because I knew they bought them, but the teacher would kill me. I felt so terrible and I apologized to them a thousand times, but we eventually let them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's this really hot guy named Alex. He's 6'5" and looks like an Eriksen (and if you understand that I'll marry you). So this guy (who I call Sophomore and he calls me Senior) who's friends with him came up to me during the dance and we had this conversation:&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: So Alex is looking good tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Who?&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: Alex.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Which Alex?&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: (makes motion referring to tall kid)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, that Alex. You think he's hot?&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: No... but do you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah he's really hot.&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: You should get on that.&lt;br /&gt;Me: He has a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: No he doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;Me: He said today he did.&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore: He doesn't. You should get on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was weird. But I would've gotten on that... if Alex didn't have a girlfriend. Instead I awkwardly attempted to dance while on crutches. Everybody there was drunk, but I wasn't because I had to work the dance. It was still fun seeing those drunk people though. But it was annoying when I was trying to dance with my friends and Church Boy was right behind me, grinding and making out with some girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a slow song came on, Matt asked me to dance which was nice seeing that I couldn't even walk. He held me up and it was mad cute. And Jason (who I may or may not have mentioned in my game with Shafaq) was dancing next to me for a bunch of the fast songs. It was super cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point I was even dancing with the kid Alex. He's SO FUCKING TALL and it's really hot. Eventually it got to the point where all the drunk people left to go to their after parties and all the dumb freshmen were still there, sober and having fun. So it was freshmen who were enjoying it and Student Government members who wanted to leave, but had to stay to clean up. It got crazy at that point. All the SGA members were going crazy. Jake (the kid I ran the three legged race with) was the DJ, so he started playing whatever music we wanted. At one point, he started playing a bunch of old school songs, then he ran around with the mic and all the Student Government people would sing along, doing duets and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, D-Lopz, the president of the Student Government, decided to get a CD from his car to play I'm On a Boat. He brought it, they started playing it, and people went CRAZY. The only problem was that it was the uncensored version. The principal and vice principals flipped out, but we were loving it. We were so happy when it was funally over and we got to leave. Me, Angie, and Matt called up the Asians to see what they were doing. We decided to go to the diner for some late night eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason drove me. He opened the doors for me and got my crutches. He was so sweet and cute and I just love him. At one point I was like, "You're such a gentleman" and he said, "Yeah, they don't call me sweet for nothing." and I laughed for a good minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat next to Ray at the diner and a bunch of Asians who had been drinking met us there. They were funny. I found out that Ray used to sell Aderall. I never knew he was that badass! I really love him loads. Then Jason drove me home and opened the door for me again. It was the cutest thing ever, even though I felt like such a cripple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and COLLEGE APPLICATIONS&lt;br /&gt;I finished and submitted my applications to my top 4 schools. BOO YA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1255859123857693241?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1255859123857693241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1255859123857693241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1255859123857693241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1255859123857693241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-life-lately.html' title='My Life Lately'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5384284252909839319</id><published>2009-09-23T22:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T22:55:23.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty-six men...</title><content type='html'>I feel like I haven't blogged in a long time. Here's what's going on with me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching Glee and it completes my life. It makes me feel so deeply sad, but so unmatchably happy at the same time. It makes me want to get up and dance along with them, but it also makes me what to change the world and get rid of the dumb, bitchy, fucked up stuff they do in that show. Oh, and it makes me laugh because they have funny racist jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started doing lots of work as a Class Officer and I love it. People come up to me to ask questions and I feel so powerful. Suggestions go through me. I put in announcements and commercials. We're also visiting Prom locations and some of them are so beautiful. Later in the year, we get to taste the food. We also get to choose the apparel which is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Boy, he misses me. He tells me all the time that he misses me and, much like Glee, it makes me so happy and sad at the same time. On one hand,  I'm really glad that he misses me and that he says it to me all the time. I think he really means it. On the other hand, I would rather have him not miss me and just... you know... be here. But he's coming home for the weekend and I'm excited. We're gonna chill loads. I'm excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think a boy in a couple of my television classes has a thing for me. The problem is that I don't have a thing for him because I'm a terrible person and can't look past his disability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of having things for people, I texted Benjamin Issac one time asking if he could cover my AM Wired shift and he replied, "uuughhhhhh, finnnneeeee cunthole." two minutes later he texted, "you know, that was a friendly cunthole. I'm really not mad." Love that kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever have those days when you feel like the only person who really gets you in life is Pandora? She keeps playing Britney Spears for me and it makes me happy. Britney makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Britney, today in English class, I made a Hannah Montana reference and it then Wendy said "That's it. Jean Valjean needs the best of both worlds." That line made me laugh for five minutes straight, but you won't get it unless you've read Les Miserables and appreciate the scene where he is trying to find his true identity: Monsieur Madeleine, Jean Valjean, or 24601 (I actually have no idea whether or not those are the numbers, I just typed random stuff).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love sitting next to Ray in class. Not only does it make me feel smart, it keeps me entertained through the whole period. He constantly makes the funniest comments and, for some odd reason, he seems to think I'm funny as well. The teacher is yelling at us for most of the period, but I think she likes me, so it's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is our first day off school for a Jewish holiday. I love living in a very Jewish town. We get off for the most random stuff (although I guess Yum Kippur isn't so random; it's a major holiday). That sentence just had kickass punctuation. That's why I'm in AP English BITCH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I'm doing pretty well as far as grades go. I'm getting no lower than a B+ in any of my classes (I think...) and I only failed 1 test, but that was a stupid pop quiz reading check where I actually did the reading, but she asked for names I didn't know. The book is just too good. I can't read slowly and read for detail; I have to speed through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of that, I still have a bunch of homework to do. By "a bunch of homework" I mean I have to read 30 pages for English, but that still seems like a lot when you're a tired senior who has to be up mad early tomorrow to get a good parking spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just looked up blog posts from 1 year ago and realized that I was complaining about my best friend. That's so weird because I'm no longer friends with her and that just happened about a month ago. It's funny how things come full circle. I also talked about how I officially liked, "un garcon" and looking back on it, I have no idea who that "garcon" is. I hadn't started talking to Pav again at that point, I hadn't even met Kenny, and Greg was gay. Was it David? Vigg? Jason? I have no clue. I was dumb back then and didn't give any context clues. All I know is that he's outside of the school. Was it Steven? I'M STUMPED!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the fact that I keep track of everything that goes on in my life. It's nice being able to go back in time and see what I was thinking before. I've moved on from pretty much everything last year brought me. And in the future when I'm looking back on this, I'll be really grateful for this long, detailed post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summary of my life right now:&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired and I have a headache. My computer deleted my common application essay so I have to re-write it. I haven't submitted my reccomendation things to my teachers yet and it's getting really late. Shit is busy and I'm easily frustrated, but I love being a senior and I don't do any work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three more days until I see Boy. Hey, remember last year when Boy when to Homecoming with Emma? Funny situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now. I need advil and sex, but more advil than sex. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5384284252909839319?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5384284252909839319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5384284252909839319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5384284252909839319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5384284252909839319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/twenty-six-men.html' title='Twenty-six men...'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4240183296077377213</id><published>2009-09-15T20:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:02:29.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When Heaven and Hell Decide...</title><content type='html'>I just remembered Chris singing his song and started crying.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I appreciated it at the time, but in retrospect, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever experienced.&lt;br /&gt;And I want to remember that moment for what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for this blog. I just thought that was important.&lt;br /&gt;I think I cry too much. I used to never cry at all, but I like it better this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4240183296077377213?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4240183296077377213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4240183296077377213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4240183296077377213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4240183296077377213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-heaven-and-hell-decide.html' title='When Heaven and Hell Decide...'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-9082927393253650687</id><published>2009-09-14T18:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T19:30:12.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is good.</title><content type='html'>I feel like I want song lyrics to describe how I'm feeling right now, but they just don't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Boy called me at 1 in the morning. I had school today, but I wanted to talk to him, so I did. He told me he missed me. You have no idea how I felt at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, my friend Shafaq and I have this game going on. This is the history of the game:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at a dance together and we were really really bored. There was nothing to do. We decided to play a game to see who could hook up with a guy first, but we decided we needed to choose a specific guy. We pointed one out randomly and the game was on. Sadly, we later discovered that said boy was a year younger than us and a loser, so the game was off. However, I won that round because I came closest. He asked me to dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we went to a party. At that party we were like, "The game continues. Jason." Jason is one of my many Asian friends, but he's probably the most attractive of the Asians. He's actually in one of my pictures from homecoming AGES ago. We didn't even really try with that branch of the game, but it became a running joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we realized we had a mutual love of this guy named Vigg (well, Matt, but nobody calls him that). Game on. Problem: Lots of alcohol was involved. Shafaq took the game a little too seriously and straddled him attempting to win the game. However, he rejected her. I win by default.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another part of the game was Tim, but he doesn't count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the branch of the game with Jason has been played out for a while now and this is SERIOUS BUSINESS TIME!!! Shafaq and I are in constant competition mode and recently, it has become clear that I will come out victorious in this game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of Asians went out to eat and after, I invited them back to my house. I have a really chill basement with loads of fun shit, so it's pretty much the place where all my friends and I chill all the time. It's come to the point where people are like, "Hey Tara, we're coming to your house on Thursday for movie night. Cool?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, Jason was one of those Asians. When he got into my basement, they all saw my massive cock... erm... I mean video game collection. Jason was looking through my games and was like, "OH MY GOD! I have this one! And this one! SHIT YOU HAVE POKEMON STADIUM?!" and then some killer lines like, "I love chicks who own loads of video games" and "Tara! You're the coolest chick ever! You have the sickest basement!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have made a hip-thrusting "suck it" motion to Shafaq at that point. I can't remember. The taste of victory was so sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I have gym with him. GAME ON BITCH!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annnndddddddd THIS is why I'm a whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love school.&lt;br /&gt;I love my classes.&lt;br /&gt;I love my teachers.&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-9082927393253650687?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/9082927393253650687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=9082927393253650687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9082927393253650687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/9082927393253650687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-is-good.html' title='Life is good.'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-253151811865005462</id><published>2009-09-08T21:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T22:15:35.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School</title><content type='html'>Sorry about the last blog post. I was put into a terrible situation with a terrible boy who's been terrible before and it made me scared. I'll talk about it more some other time, but not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started today and I think I really like it. Here's what happened and why I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 1:&lt;br /&gt;I have AM Wired again which is awesome blossom fabulous fantastic. I'll pretty much be above all the people in the class since I'm an "assistant" and not an actual member of the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 2:&lt;br /&gt;AP CALCULUS AB! I sit behind my friend LISHAAAA! We always have so much fun in our math classes with that teacher. This is my second year in a row having her. I showed up mad late to class because of dumb schedule issues and she was completely on my side about the situation. We also have brand new text books and calculators. We got homework, but it's okay because I love the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 3:&lt;br /&gt;French 5 Standard aka French for Special People. The class is SO STUPID, but it's really funny. But then she gave us a homework assignment that's worth 20 points, so boo you whore. I love the teacher. She's my best friend. I just hate that she gave me homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 4:&lt;br /&gt;Lunch with all of my friends. We get to go out of the school for lunch which is gonna be totally badass. We got the "senior tables". Shafaq and Vigg were there and they talked about hooking up which made for the best lunchtime conversation ever. It's gonna be a fun year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 5:&lt;br /&gt;Gym. I'm in gym with a lot of my friends this year which is awkward because now they'll see how terrible I am at anything athletic. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 6:&lt;br /&gt;AP ENGLISH!! The funniest thing ever happened. Okay, maybe only I think it's funny...&lt;br /&gt;but this kid Itai walked into class about 5 minutes late. The teacher asked him, "What happened?" and he was like, "See, it's a really long story." She asked, "Do I want to hear this story?" He said, "Oh yeah, you really want to hear it." She let him go ahead. He said, "See, I'm the king of Denmark and my father died. I really don't like talking about that. But his ghost just showed up and--" the teacher cut him off and he just yelled, "What?! What else could I do?!" Eventually he was just like, "Sorry, I was late coming back from lunch. I promise it won't happen again." I love nerdy jokes!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have the best seat in the entire classroom. I'm behind Marshall, one of my really good friends. To my right is Raymond, the dumbest but funniest asian kid you will ever meet. I'll always feel smart next to him. Right across the room are Wendy and Sally, so we can make faces and vaginas at each other. It's fantastic. I'm gonna have a good year. Plus, the teacher was just the New Jersey Teacher of the Year or something special like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 7:&lt;br /&gt;Creative Writing 2 Honors. I love creative writing and I have some of my old Period 2 Family with me (and one of them is Hot Dave). We had a dumb assignment though. 25 reasons why I took that class. DUMB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 8:&lt;br /&gt;World feeelmmm with Monsieurrrrr. That's World Film if you translate it from French. I love film as a form of literature as well as the cinamatography of film. A lot of the kids are probably just in the class because they like watching movies. Also, the teacher is one of my favorite teachers in the whole school. He loves me too, so it's fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Period 9:&lt;br /&gt;Advanced TV Production. I have one of my favorite teachers. He really respects me and my skills and knows I have passion for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part of Period 9 was when he asked if anybody in the room had already taken AM Wired. I was the only one who raised my hand. He said, "So Tara's probably already ahead of the game. She's probably learned a bunch of stuff you'll need to know how to do, so if you have any questions and I'm not there, just ask her." That made me feel special and smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing homework all day. I had to write 3 paragraphs for English, but they weren't easy. My 25 reasons were also very difficult. I think I might have to do a lot more work than I originally thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TOMORROW IS GLEE NIGHT. That's pure excitement for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Boy and it was fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-253151811865005462?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/253151811865005462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=253151811865005462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/253151811865005462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/253151811865005462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/school.html' title='School'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6384251741688712206</id><published>2009-09-06T23:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T23:52:43.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think I need to talk to somebody. Help?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6384251741688712206?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6384251741688712206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6384251741688712206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6384251741688712206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6384251741688712206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-think-i-need-to-talk-to-somebody.html' title=''/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-7675629466936779814</id><published>2009-09-03T00:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T01:19:24.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Me with a Penis</title><content type='html'>Greg's coming to my lake house on Monday!!!!!!! I'M SO EXCITED!! It's been like, 12 days since I've seen him. Not cool. Not cool at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were texting today and he sent me these texts which made me laugh but won't make sense to anybody else:&lt;br /&gt;"Thats rly dick tell everyone they need to go. Let me know if u want me to mess him up at all i go to frat parties thus i am beast"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wtf whe the fuck did he do that? Is he going though?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh damn drama with who?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one almost made Wendy pee her pants she burst into such a sudden bolt of laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to tell Greg! He needs to know about me hanging out with his friends and the messages they left me and me not hooking up with the Pilot and SO MUCH STUFF!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like half of me left when he left. We're the same person (and we even have the same color eyes) and when he left, I lost that person I could always call at 2 am hoping to hang out or go to Wendy's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just super excited. I miss him a lot. At Freshman Orientation today, I was running the French Club table. A lot of people came by and asked where Greg was. It made me realize even more that he won't be at French Club this year. I won't see him every Wednesday there. He won't be teaching 8th graders so I won't see him every Monday. He won't be teaching 9th graders so I won't see him every Tuesday. He won't be on Rainbow team so I won't see him every Wednesday night. He won't be doing Stations of the Cross so I won't see him every Thursday. He won't be going to Youth Group meetings so I won't see him every Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a lot of not seeing Greg when I would usually see him.  We pretty much have the same life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hate this situation. This situation is completely on my shoulders. I have the choice of telling him or not telling him how I feel. I don't know what the right decision is, so I just keep on being unhappy. It sucks more knowing he didn't hurt me and it's me who didn't do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just stalked his Facebook (which we do cuz we're cool). He has a new profile picture and he looks SO GOOD and that doesn't help situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so this turned into stalker territory...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went to Freshman Orientation and it was at the school. A lot of my friends were there and it just made me realize how amazing the school year is gonna be. We were just talking about how little work we're gonna have and if we do have actual work, fuck it. I love being a senior because that means everybody in the school is younger than me. That means they have to listen to me because I'm better than them. SUCK IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have much else to say. I'm in such a good mood right now, yet somehow I'm still crying over Boy. I don't get it. FUCK THIS!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-7675629466936779814?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/7675629466936779814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=7675629466936779814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7675629466936779814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7675629466936779814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/09/hes-me-with-penis.html' title='He&apos;s Me with a Penis'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8327784766531962813</id><published>2009-08-31T16:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T16:40:38.135-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't even know how to write this post, but I just had the greatest feeling in the world and I need to somehow remember it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a joke. Not a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in SRSNESS-- There have been two times when I've fallen hard for a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was Kenny, the half asian, trumpet playing, Hemmingway quoting God from my school. He had wit beyond measure, which is man's greatest treasure. I fell hard for him. He gave me butterflies like you can't even imagine. But then he broke my heart a little when I found out he was seeing another girl and chose her over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stung for a little while, but eventually, I got to the point where I was so happy for the two of them. I realized they were perfect for each other and I was actually glad he didn't choose me. We would've been completely wrong for each other. He didn't share my love for Britney Spears and I didn't share his love for pretentious prick music like Sca and Jazz. (and I call it pretentious prick music not because I have any resentment towards him, but because he's now one of my really good friends and we all know he's a pretentious prick.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second guy was Pav. Damn I fell hard for Pav. I dropped my entire life to talk to him for hours and hours every day. I broke my own moral standards because I liked him so much. Then he hurt me.  It took me a little while to get over Pav than it did to get over Kenny, but today, I realized it completely happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard through the grapevine (good song) about Pav and a girl and to my own shock and amazement, I'm happy for him. I realized that Pav doesn't understand my religion and now matter how perfect somebody may be, that's a dealbreaker. Pav is a wonderful person who cares so much about his friends. He's nice and funny and I don't hate him in the slightest. I only realize that now that I'm completley over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm a pretty simple person. These are the basic aspects of my life:&lt;br /&gt;Britney Spears&lt;br /&gt;the Yankees&lt;br /&gt;Roman Catholicism&lt;br /&gt;Wanting to be with friends&lt;br /&gt;Not being afraid to look stupid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back at my past "relationships", no guy has shared all of those with me. I'll settle for 4/5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the fact that I found somebody with 4/5 and because I'm dumb and stupid and can't grow a pair when I need to, he's gone. We still talk almost every day. We send each other text messages and chat on Facebook or ooVoo, but he doesn't know how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in the future I'll have a Kenny or Pav-esque revelation where I realize that he's not as perfect as I think he is right now. I mean, I know he's not perfect. He's an hour late to everything. He can't keep plans straight. But those are the things I love about him. But maybe I'll realize he's not the perfect match for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note... Did you hear Derek Jeter is engaged to the lovely Minka Kelly? Well, they deny it, but if it's true, I'm so happy for him! I totally approve of her and my Derek is allowed to marry her if he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I didn't hook up with a pilot and I'm proud of myself. This guy is a FUCKING PILOT! He flys planes! He can be like, "Hmm, I feel like going to California today" and just DO IT! And he wanted to hook up with me. All his friends were trying to get me to hook up with him. I didn't because I'm not a COMPLETE whore. (just kidding, I am. I just lost interest when it stopped being a game. yeah, I'm a terrible person.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I learned how to play Everytime by Britney Spears on the guitar. That brings my total of B.Spears songs I know on guitar to 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm more than halfway done with The Poisonwood Bible, one of my two summer reading books. Life is goooooddddd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8327784766531962813?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8327784766531962813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8327784766531962813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8327784766531962813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8327784766531962813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-even-know-how-to-write-this-post.html' title=''/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3170960595825569434</id><published>2009-08-28T19:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T19:55:02.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So bored, I can't even take it</title><content type='html'>In detail describe your last "oh shit" moment?&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to say I "Oh Shitted" for Wendy when she sent a text to the wrong person. It was bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is the last time you attended a church service?&lt;br /&gt;Antioch retreat. I'm a bad person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do if your boyfriend/girlfriend kept pictures of their ex?&lt;br /&gt;Their ex alone- that's weird.&lt;br /&gt;Them with their ex- I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?&lt;br /&gt;yes and I miss him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know anyone who smokes weed?&lt;br /&gt;lol, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if your boyfriend/girlfriend went through your cell phone?&lt;br /&gt;I really wouldn't care... unless I had something to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you doing tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;Going up to the lake house? Maybe? And doing my summer reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you kissed anyone within the last week?&lt;br /&gt;No, although I had the opportunity and I'm proud of myself for turning it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently kissed anyone with the name starting with a M?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the person you like, like you back?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color shirt are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;boring color&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you imagining anyone naked right now?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you do last night?&lt;br /&gt;Chilled with Wendy, Sally, and Shafaq. We took a bunch of pictures together, put them on facebook, then commented them. At one point, I had 91 notifications.&lt;br /&gt;I also went to see Taking Woodstock and I enjoyed it more than everybody else in the theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What woke you up?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, at least I don't think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather be at the beach or the lake?&lt;br /&gt;Lake fo shizzle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a certain guy/girl, you can't get OFF your mind?&lt;br /&gt;Yes and it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mostly watch on YouTube?&lt;br /&gt;My friends ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in forever?&lt;br /&gt;That's a stupid question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you trust people easily?&lt;br /&gt;yes, very easily and it fucks me over in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the song you're listening to remind you of anyone?&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to the Yankee game which reminds me of the fact that DEREK JETER IS ENGAGED AND I'M SO HAPPY FOR HIM!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you commit to one person?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm pretty sure it's not that hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color did you last paint your nails?&lt;br /&gt;Pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last thing you spent money on?&lt;br /&gt;My money? Sushi. My mom's money? Groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you wanna have kids before you are 30?&lt;br /&gt;Did somebody say baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the last place you slept besides your bed?&lt;br /&gt;My couch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you saw your mom?&lt;br /&gt;a couple minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you make out with anyone today?&lt;br /&gt;nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever burned yourself?&lt;br /&gt;not on purpose... but yeah, you'd have to be a super person not to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you the type of person who likes to be out or home?&lt;br /&gt;Out. I always want to be out. I hate being home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything you are looking forward to?&lt;br /&gt;School starting and getting to use my AWESOME BINDERS! Also Labor Day at my lake house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you caught your boyfriend/ girlfriend cheating on you, what would you do?&lt;br /&gt;I'd talk it through like the responsible, mature adult I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you happy?&lt;br /&gt;No. Not now. Not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last thing you ate?&lt;br /&gt;Pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any expensive jewelry?&lt;br /&gt;only the things people gave me and I never use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person to call you?&lt;br /&gt;Greg (aka Fast Food Guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a favorite number?&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite fast food restaurant?&lt;br /&gt;Does Chipotle count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was the weather today?&lt;br /&gt;disgusting and rainy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?&lt;br /&gt;I'm campaigning for the "Best Eyes" superlative at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color are your eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Grayish bluish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night?&lt;br /&gt;Probably one of my family members, but I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were you single on your last birthday?&lt;br /&gt;Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you ever tell someone you loved them first?&lt;br /&gt;No. I'm not quick to say I Love You because I'm not quick to think it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you be in a relationship next month?&lt;br /&gt;Not sure. Probably not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you fight with anyone today?&lt;br /&gt;yeah, probably. I fight with everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were you happy when you woke up today?&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember. Today's been a "blah" day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What time did you wake up this morning?&lt;br /&gt;around 12 maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you doing after this?&lt;br /&gt;continuing with the Yankee game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can last in a relationship for 3 months?&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, although I do have the One Month Curse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your current problem?&lt;br /&gt;boy problems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was the highlight of today?&lt;br /&gt;Finding out Derek Jeter is engaged!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last voice mail you received?&lt;br /&gt;BEST VOICEMAIL EVER!!!&lt;br /&gt;"Because I'm a pretentious prick! AHAHAHA"&lt;br /&gt;"Is this Tara? Of course it is because  I dialed the number. AHAHAHA"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you bored right now?&lt;br /&gt;eh, sorta but not really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back in time did you ever waste your time on a certain boy or girl?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, fo shizzle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;Yankee shorts and a soccer shirt. I'm so athletic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you depressed?&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't say "depressed" but I haven't been happy lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What were you doing before you came home last?&lt;br /&gt;I went to the movies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3170960595825569434?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3170960595825569434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3170960595825569434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3170960595825569434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3170960595825569434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-bored-i-cant-even-take-it.html' title='So bored, I can&apos;t even take it'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-461856652234062951</id><published>2009-07-29T12:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T12:28:09.004-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BAHSTON</title><content type='html'>That's Boston the way "New Yawk" is New York or "New Joisey" is New Jersey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going there tomorrow and I'm really excited. Well, first I'm going to Connecticut (where they don't have accents) to see Quinnipiac, then I'm going to Boston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Boston, I'll be visiting 2 colleges:&lt;br /&gt;1. Emerson College&lt;br /&gt;2. Boston University&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, my top three schools go:&lt;br /&gt;1. Emerson&lt;br /&gt;2. Quinnipiac&lt;br /&gt;3. BU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the next three days, I will have visited all of my top three schools. I will probably be going to one of them, so essentially, I'm looking at my future homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I'm excited about for Boston:&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing Emerson, the place that makes my heart flutter more than even Pav ever did.&lt;br /&gt;- Chilling out (maxing, relaxing all cool) with my sister in the city.&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing Shear Madness? Possibly? Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;- Racing my parents up there! Srsly, two cars. In car A are my mom, dad, and little sister. In car B are me and my older sister. It's a race.&lt;br /&gt;- The hotel. It looks so fucking sweet. It's just... ridiculous. I can't imagine how much it costs.&lt;br /&gt;- I hear it's a beautiful city and I want to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's one thing I'm not excited about which may outweigh all the good things:&lt;br /&gt;- Red Sox fans everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can handle it. The BoSox suck and they make me want to stab babies. I don't want to see the fans everywhere, especially the ones with those dirty accents. UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I'm going up to Lake George for a week. That week is always so much fun. I've been going there every year since I was 1 and it's formed all of my favorite childhood memories. I even started this blog because I wanted to talk about what happened last year at Lake George. So much stuff happens and I love it. I'm really excited to be going there again, especially now that I have my license and can drive around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Neopets time. BAI.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-461856652234062951?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/461856652234062951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=461856652234062951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/461856652234062951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/461856652234062951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/07/bahston.html' title='BAHSTON'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8428208403454075082</id><published>2009-07-14T22:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T23:27:29.467-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mates, Dates, and... 789s</title><content type='html'>I feel like it's been so long since I've blogged. Here are some things I would like to mention:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've discovered my male counterpart. His name is Gregory Thomas Tilley. He is me except a boy. He loves Britney Spears. He's very religious. He's in love with the French language. He's smart. He's perfect. That's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're very obnoxious when we're together. We bust out into Lady GaGa randomly and it's hot. The other great thing about him is he likes to randomly hang out. I can call him and be like "Hey, what are you doing right now? Come hang out and bring friends" and he'll do it. I'm going shopping with him tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Greg's friends is Kenny. Some of you may know him as the Dinosaur who was a dick to me. He dated me, a girl named Alex, and a girl named Arianna all at the same time. What a nice guy. The thing is that I'm 100% over him and don't mind hanging out with him. I mean sure, he's hot, but I've been through that and it wasn't fun. The only unfun thing about hanging out with him is when his friends talk about all the times he had sex with Alex, the girl he chose over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as soon as people started talking about his sex life, Greg turned to me and started another conversation just with me. He knew I was uncomfortable and made me feel better. That's why he's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm a good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to 789. Shit happened. Here are pictures of shit happening.&lt;br /&gt;Kristen, Cait, and Me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 480px; height: 361px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs187.snc1/6250_1183495830934_1334370976_31020177_900890_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and mememolly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 476px; height: 357px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs167.snc1/6250_1183495870935_1334370976_31020178_8294691_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and KevJumba:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 478px; height: 358px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs187.snc1/6250_1183496030939_1334370976_31020182_4037438_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and DaveDays:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 487px; height: 365px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs187.snc1/6250_1183496070940_1334370976_31020183_7936897_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shafaq and Stevie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 487px; height: 366px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs167.snc1/6250_1183496150942_1334370976_31020185_1832035_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, Ian, and our slurpees:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 487px; height: 365px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs167.snc1/6250_1183496190943_1334370976_31020186_6850421_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, Ian, Sophia, and our slurpees:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 479px; height: 360px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs187.snc1/6250_1183496270945_1334370976_31020188_6374994_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, Shafaq, and our slurpees back at home (that's right bitches, we went again):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 475px; height: 356px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs167.snc1/6250_1183496750957_1334370976_31020200_5086180_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's pretty much what happened that day:&lt;br /&gt;- I got to NYC with my friend Shafaq&lt;br /&gt;- Sophia and Ian met us in that circle thing&lt;br /&gt;- We went to Central Park and saw everybody&lt;br /&gt;- I saw Kristen and Cait and they're amazing&lt;br /&gt;- I met a lot more people I know&lt;br /&gt;- I waited in mobs for "celebrities"&lt;br /&gt;- I really like the people I talked to, even if I didn't get to talk to them for too long.&lt;br /&gt;- A group of people went to an Italian place (I forget the name) to eat.&lt;br /&gt;- That same group walked a really long way to the nearest 7/11 for free slurpees&lt;br /&gt;- We split into two groups and my group went to Times Square&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish the day could've been longer. I miss everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was organizing files on my computer and I came across some stuff I liked, so I decided I would show it to you guys. You really don't have to pay attention to it, I just want to keep it here to make sure I never lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[11:05:50 PM] Twig says: Tara, I've explained, I don't fuckin like Darren, I think he's an arrogant asshole who needs to fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;[11:06:17 PM] MiniDave (YouKnowThatDaveKid) says: darrens lovely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[10:21:27 AM] Tara H says: When I imagine Edward Cullen, I think he looks something like Blue Skies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[11:26:25 PM] Pav says: tie her up and make her wear the headset while she pleases you&lt;br /&gt;[11:27:25 PM] Pav says: THIS IS BORZOIIIIIIIII *inserts penis into ear*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[11:45:21 PM] Steven says: Tara with your nose soo briighhtt, wonntt youuu bakkee mee a caakkee tooniigghhttt (Girl reindeer aren't allowed to fly the sleigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX: Hey Tara!&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;TGal227: I'm loving the &lt;3 Dave&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX: well then here's 3 more &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's a poem (that's not even really a poem so much as it is a stream of consciousness, but whatever) that you won't understand:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first time I saw you&lt;br /&gt;The instant I came into the room I found my friend and said, “Hey, isn’t he cute?”&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first time you complimented me&lt;br /&gt;You called me hot, superficial, I know&lt;br /&gt;But it still made me smile&lt;br /&gt;Then after those first there was a whole lot of next&lt;br /&gt;When you shouted my name with an internet heart&lt;br /&gt;Then you told them I was yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you were probably just saying that&lt;br /&gt;And I know it probably means nothing&lt;br /&gt;But to me it was everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first time I realized you knew&lt;br /&gt;And you used it to find out something I knew, you forced me to share my secrets.&lt;br /&gt;But I remember the feeling I got that night&lt;br /&gt;It was like everything was right when we were talking&lt;br /&gt;You called me sexy, again superficial&lt;br /&gt;But I forgot all your flaws and remembered your perfection&lt;br /&gt;And I smiled because of your perfection.&lt;br /&gt;Then you said I was your best friend forever, your BFF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you were probably just saying that&lt;br /&gt;And I know it probably means nothing&lt;br /&gt;But to me it was everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a while since we talked but as soon as we start I know that none was lost&lt;br /&gt;At least on my end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's a poem that you might understand. It's called "Salute":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I salute the time you flew Air Force 1&lt;br /&gt;         not to miss my birthday dinner.&lt;br /&gt;I salute the hugs you gave to me.&lt;br /&gt;        They always made me better.&lt;br /&gt;I salute the creation of the Peace Corps&lt;br /&gt;        and your poise in the debates.&lt;br /&gt;I salute the Bay of Pigs.&lt;br /&gt;        Your admission made you great.&lt;br /&gt;I salute your bedtime stories&lt;br /&gt;        and the kisses that you gave.&lt;br /&gt;I salute your stance on Civil Rights&lt;br /&gt;        and all the lives you saved.&lt;br /&gt;I salute your loving memory.&lt;br /&gt;       Without you; we’ll be sad.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all I salute with pride&lt;br /&gt;        that I could call you Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my favorite show of the summer is NYC Prep. You should all watch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm watching the All Star Game and I'm nervous. The American League (the league in which the Yankees play) hasn't lost a game since 1996 and right now, they're ahead by one run with runners on second and third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*WARNING If you don't follow baseball, don't even try to read this. You'll get confused.*&lt;br /&gt;I'm really happy that they used Papelbon (or however you spell that dumbass's name) in the 7th inning. I was afraid they would put him in the 9th inning to replace Mariano Rivera. However, Mariano Rivera has been the closer for so long. This is his 10th All Star Game (and Derek Jeter's 10th) and he's the best closer to have ever played the game. He deserves that 9th inning spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also very angry because Derek Jeter was hit by a pitch in the first inning. This is the All Star Game, not a real game. I understand that it matters because the winner, National League or American League, gets to have the home field advantage for their representative in the World Series, but that doesn't mean you have any right to try to injure players. It's a game they play for fun. It doesn't go on their records and it doesn't count as a game they played. If somebody gets injured in the All Star game, that could affect their entire season and possibly even their pay. It's completely uncalled for to hit a batter in this game. If you're the starter for the All Star Game, you should be able to control your pitches and not hit people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also very proud of that... center fielder? left fielder? Carl Crawford who made a fantabulous catch to rob the NL of a home run. It was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, it was Papelbon who would have given up that home run. He didn't do too well. I don't like him as a player and that's not only because he's on the Red Sox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama is at the game and he talked to the players before the game in the clubhouse. He was talking to Derek Jeter and said something like, "I've been a fan of yours for a long time. You're old to these guys now" and Derek said something like, "Hey, I'm not the oldest one!" and it made me very happy. My two favorite half black people in the world were getting along, smiling, and joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Tis now the bottom of the 9th. Mo is pitching and that's the way it should be. There is one out because some fellow popped up like the n00b he is. Mo makes everybody look like a complete n00b. He just made a person half swing like a little girl. I love the power Mo has. Everybody in the dugout is staring in amazement, glad they get to finally be on that side of Mariano Rivera's amazing work. Derek Jeter is smiling and laughing, very used to being on that side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strike Out. He's fantastic. I don't care that he's 40 years old. He could be my father, but that's not stopping him. He's still a fantastic player. And it's over. American League wins again of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Derek Jeter scored half the runs in the game because he's that special, yet he still managed to be 0 for 2. Funny how that works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that Papelbon got the win. How did that even happen? He sucked. Ugh. Baseball Fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I'm in love with an Australian man named Ian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a long blog post, but it needed to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this may be a shock to some people, but I do not currently have feeling for any guy. I'm 100% over all of the old ones and I haven't found anybody to move onto. I don't even care about moving on. Boys make things so much more complicated and I'm ready to have some fun my SENIOR YEAR BABY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now that I have my license, I'm never home. I don't have to be. I hang out with people like Greg all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALRIGHT SERIOUSLY! That's it! I have issues with ending blog posts. I just never want to do it. BYEBYEBYEBYE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8428208403454075082?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8428208403454075082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8428208403454075082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8428208403454075082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8428208403454075082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/07/mates-dates-and-789s.html' title='Mates, Dates, and... 789s'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5592905557291133303</id><published>2009-07-02T08:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T08:25:21.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Past Week</title><content type='html'>This past week has been so busy for me! Here's what went down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my finals and passed all but one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked the teachers in at graduation. I pretty much led the procession and it was awesome. Then I got to sit on the turf during graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a party at Marshall's house. It was so much fun. I love those parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY ON SATURDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;- First, my daddy gave me a book about the Yankees.&lt;br /&gt;- I went to Chipotle on Friday for my birthday and ended up finishing my burrito at 2 am.&lt;br /&gt;- I went to a barbecue at my friend Angie's house where everybody wished me a happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;- We invited Vig (with whom I am in love)&lt;br /&gt;- We played Rock Band.&lt;br /&gt;- We played Speed Scrabble and now I'm addicted.&lt;br /&gt;- My sister drove me up to the lake house where I slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I was up at the lake for most of the day. Then we went home. Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, I started teaching my first graders. More on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after the 9 am to 1 pm lesson, I went to take my road test. I was so nervous! It was a 30 minute drive there and I almost got in an accident on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got there, my mom went to the guy and was like, "We're a little early..." and he said, "That's no good." It scared me. But then he took me. He made me parallel park, then back up straight, turn right, do a K turn, then turn left and I passed. When he made me turn right, I was afraid I would run over a curb. I didn't. When I was leaving the place, I ran over that curb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then had to wait an hour and a half at the DMV. A hot guy talked to me and that was nice. Then I got my license. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those kids I teach... Some of them are adorable, some of them are little hell raisers. Here are some of them:&lt;br /&gt;Christopher- My favorite. He has a fauxhawk. That's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Alexis- She's the shortest girl and she's also the most "religious". She's too cute.&lt;br /&gt;Alexa- She's so annoying. She's the one who will just say "I'm bored" or "I'm hungry" and everybody will agree with her.&lt;br /&gt;Alexa- The other Alexa. She's a cutie, but their names confuse me.&lt;br /&gt;Sophia- She's SO ADORABLE! She gets really excited about things. I'll say something like, "Jesus lived over 2,000 years ago!" and she'll go into shock.&lt;br /&gt;Gabriella aka GG- She's probably the cutest girl there. She looks like that girl from Cory in the House and The Game Plan. She's way too cute and she also looks up to me. She's a good kid.&lt;br /&gt;Michael- I had his brother last year. He always wants to help out and be the line leader.&lt;br /&gt;Carlo- We had the same kindergarden teacher. He's also the sweetest boy ever. He's always helping other people.&lt;br /&gt;Conner- I sorta want to hurt this kid sometimes. He's very annoying. He's always talking to somebody else or moving around. He won't sit still.&lt;br /&gt;Jillian- She's Conner's twin sister. She's a cute girl, but she talks to him a lot. She's good though.&lt;br /&gt;Domenic- He's my peanut allergy. I'm scared to death that I'm gonna kill him by accident. But he's always talking to Conner.&lt;br /&gt;Christina- She's little and quiet, but she's very well behaved. She's so tiny though! She's itsy bitsy. I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went to Wendy's house. I drove there all by myself ^_^ It's really fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had such a great time! We're having a movie night on Monday at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy made me a video on my Facebook. She has this thing called "The Wendy Show" where she makes videos for her friends and sings them songs. She sang me "Mario Kart Love Song" and it was totally amazing. I love that girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go watch that now. Bye guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5592905557291133303?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5592905557291133303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5592905557291133303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5592905557291133303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5592905557291133303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-past-week.html' title='My Past Week'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6195058812215692868</id><published>2009-06-21T07:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T07:51:19.601-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brand New Shoes</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I blog too much and my posts are way too long, but I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about stuff is weird. Friday, I took my history final exam. Right before the history midterm, I was texting somebody who was very important to me. Before this one, I was texting somebody else who is very important to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My priorities have changed so much over this half of the year. I've been able to focus on my real life and my future rather than my virtual life. Don't get me wrong, I still love all of my e-friends, but I've been able to see how much effort I put into the internet world and how that forced me to neglect the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also made huge steps in setting up my future. I'm gonna be a class officer. That means all of the following things:&lt;br /&gt;- I get to host the Talent Show&lt;br /&gt;- I organize all of the Senior events.&lt;br /&gt;- I completely plan Prom.&lt;br /&gt;- I get to read the names at Graduation.&lt;br /&gt;- I organize class reunions in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm Vice President of the French Honors Society. I'm also Vice President of the French Club. It's gonna be an exciting year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realized that next year for Stations of the Cross, I'm gonna be Mary and Half Jap (Matt the Hottie) is gonna be Jesus. That's cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and here's a picture of me at prom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/5049_120763165774_624675774_3367208.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one girl who took the most pictures still hasn't put them up, so I'm going with that one for now. Look at that huge ass chandelier. It's fucking huge. Yeah, you can't see how huge it is in that picture, but it was big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to Kris Allen's old album, Brand New Shoes, so much lately. I downloaded all the songs and I'm addicted to some of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of this was pretty much to procrastinate studying for my Physics final exam. It's tomorrow and I'm a little bit fucked. I don't know anything (and half the class is gonna be cheating off me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6195058812215692868?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6195058812215692868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6195058812215692868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6195058812215692868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6195058812215692868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/06/brand-new-shoes.html' title='Brand New Shoes'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1598049860979800902</id><published>2009-06-17T21:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:25:49.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>True Story</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm about to say something that actually happened. This story seems like I'm making it up to make myself feel good about myself, but I swear it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering if that warning makes it seem more fake than if I just told it... but I SWEAR IT HAPPENED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting in Physics, feeling sorry for myself. My head was stuffy, my throat felt like somebody was trying to stuff hot coals down it, and my nose was running like a faucet. I heard somebody say my name. I turned around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Casey, Miss Popular, asking me a question. She wanted to know I was gonna study for the Physics final. I told her I would, but not too much. Then, in the middle of the conversation, Bekka says, "Oh Tara, not to sound creepy or anything, but we were talking about you for a good ten minutes in my last class."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was confused. Why would people be talking about me? Was it because I had won class officer? Was it because I was on AM Wired this morning? The confusion must have shown on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everybody was talking about how pretty you are for ten minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked. Me? Pretty? Surely not. I barely managed to put my shock into words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? Me? Really?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said barely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey laughed. I'm sure she's used to people talking about how pretty she is. This reaction would be simple-- practiced for her. But this doesn't happen to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, you know Gisela? And you know how she gets obsessed with people? Well that was you. She was like, 'She has the best hair and I could listen to her voice for hours.' Everybody was agreeing and that went on for, like, ten minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gisela. Of course. That girl is a great person and one of my Youth Group friends. It's great how the smallest details of my day can make it or break it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-end scene-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I got carried away with that. Sorry. It just made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed something to make my day because I failed my AM Wired final today. You may think, "Tara, that's a joke class. How do you fail the final?" Well, here's how:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our midterm is having all our videos from the first half of the year on a VHS tape. Our final is having all of our videos from the ENTIRE year on that VHS tape. For the midterm, I did it all at the last minute and it worked very well for me. I planned on doing the same thing for the final. However, I've been sick for 3.5 days now, meaning I didn't have time to do it. I got into school and found out it was due today. I panicked. I got my VHS tape from the cabinet and started recording right away. I was freaking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had 7 projects this semester: two Black History Month spotlights, a "Step It Up" opener, a 38 second opener, a trivia question, a closer, and a news story. I recorded the Black History Months. I recorded the Step It Up. I went to record the 38 second opener. When I went to record it, I hit Play instead of Play and Record at the same time. Not a big deal. The big deal was when I realized I had recorded over my projects from the first half of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ejected my tape. I threw it against the wall. There was no way I could fix that and because it was a pass/fail grade, I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really upset about that. If you know me, you know I don't fail. I get really upset if I get any lower than a B on anything. I was almost in tears after I realized I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I found out I would get an A- for the year anyway, which is alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that happened-- last Thursday, right before I was supposed to leave for prom, I took a Pre-Calc test. I thought I failed. My mind wasn't on the test. I couldn't remember how to do things. For the last two questions, I completely guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got into that class period, the teacher offered to give me my test back. This scares the shit out of me. Sometimes, I don't do so well on tests (and by that I mean I'll get an 80 and I'll be sad). When that happens, I like for it to be as impersonal as possible. I want the teacher to hand the test back to me, then walk away. So I was freaking out. I didn't want to be handed a bad grade personally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept saying, "I didn't do well. My mind was on prom. Excuse Excuse I'm sorry." And I got a 96. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the last episode of AM Wired for the year. We've done 170 shows and this was the last one. I'm actually really sad about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we're doing some badass stuff tomorrow. Instead of going to our AM Wired class, we're going out to breakfast. Our teacher is marking us as present because he's going out to breakfast with us. That's totally illegal, but I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm watching trashy TV, so I don't have time. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1598049860979800902?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1598049860979800902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1598049860979800902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1598049860979800902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1598049860979800902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/06/true-story.html' title='True Story'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5306908754190311320</id><published>2009-06-14T10:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T11:19:21.905-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mortified</title><content type='html'>I just discovered &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/mortified"&gt;MORTIFIED&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. God. I'm in love.&lt;br /&gt;I really hope some day I can look back on this and laugh like I laughed at those peoples stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Senior Prom was fantastic. My date was completely adorable. We're just friends, but it was so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised by how many people were excited to see me there. Not everybody knew I was going, so when some people saw me, they were surprised. They wanted to take pictures with me. It made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat next to Dinosaur and his new girlfriend. He told me I looked beautiful and it was really awkward... but it was funny. I &lt;3 his girlfriend. She's fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I danced with my French teacher. She's funny. I danced with Greg. He looked fantastic. I danced with Dan. We got drrrty on the dance floor. It was hawwttt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus ride home was fun. I was tired. It was weird, but my date and I are adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I started to record a new video today, but my camera ran out of battery. Sadtimez. Now I have to start over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5306908754190311320?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5306908754190311320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5306908754190311320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5306908754190311320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5306908754190311320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/06/mortified.html' title='Mortified'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2648828714808845214</id><published>2009-06-08T21:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T23:18:30.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Antioch '09</title><content type='html'>I feel the great need to blog about one of the most amazing weekends of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:&lt;br /&gt;- I found out I won class officer.&lt;br /&gt;- I went home sick the next period.&lt;br /&gt;- went to Chipotle like my mom promised.&lt;br /&gt;- went to the church.&lt;br /&gt;- stocked the bathroom&lt;br /&gt;- found my heart and put it on.&lt;br /&gt;- played "I like everybody who..."&lt;br /&gt;- "Everybody who's wearing underwear."&lt;br /&gt;- "Everybody who loves AnnMarie"&lt;br /&gt;- walked up to the Blue House&lt;br /&gt;- heard Thrill talk about Ghost, a game I didn't know people played.&lt;br /&gt;- the look on AnnMarie's face when she heard about Ghost&lt;br /&gt;- singing to the Cheers theme song&lt;br /&gt;- Cody just being generally hilarious&lt;br /&gt;- Rule #1- No Dying&lt;br /&gt;- Like a BAUSS&lt;br /&gt;- Will being really excited and telling me I was in his group.&lt;br /&gt;- going to the Yellow room for small group.&lt;br /&gt;- Small Group: Raquel, Will, LiAnne, Joe, Matt, Mike, Mike, and Lexi&lt;br /&gt;- Flynn's drawing of Sully&lt;br /&gt;- "Will and the Pussycats"&lt;br /&gt;- Jesus Christ and the BAYGULL Eatin' Pussycats&lt;br /&gt;- Rae's talk and her giving me a shout-out in it&lt;br /&gt;- Flip Flops&lt;br /&gt;- Rae's really cute song&lt;br /&gt;- watching Beauty and the Beast&lt;br /&gt;- Gretchen's talk&lt;br /&gt;- Finding out who my secret pal was and being really super happy about it&lt;br /&gt;- Thinking, "I wish I could be in a sleep group with Rae" and then being in her sleep group.&lt;br /&gt;- Getting to Katie's house in Gretchen's car&lt;br /&gt;- My corner of the place&lt;br /&gt;- amazing food, like, ridiculous&lt;br /&gt;- talking about hot guys (and girls)&lt;br /&gt;- Finally sleeping at 2 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;- Waking up way too early&lt;br /&gt;- "Ask Me Breakfast" where I got asked and I asked somebody.&lt;br /&gt;- "What do we say to people who give us free food?" "THANK YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;- Getting our Rocks&lt;br /&gt;- naming mine Barack the Rock&lt;br /&gt;- OG Mudbone (the rock)&lt;br /&gt;- Richard aka Dick (the rock)&lt;br /&gt;- Shafaq the Rock&lt;br /&gt;- Being tied to Joe for lunch&lt;br /&gt;- "I'm done"&lt;br /&gt;- Father G awkwardly sitting with us at lunch.&lt;br /&gt;- Finishing Beauty and the Beast&lt;br /&gt;- Cody's singing&lt;br /&gt;- Father G. laughing way too loud.&lt;br /&gt;- watching Fuzzy Tale&lt;br /&gt;- Getting Warm Fuzzies &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;- Will the Thrill's talks&lt;br /&gt;- "Sweet Laxer Dudes"&lt;br /&gt;- talking about boobs for a good 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;- Joe saying, "I agree with Matt"&lt;br /&gt;- Finding out what we had to do a skit on.&lt;br /&gt;- Matt sitting there-- "I've got an idea."&lt;br /&gt;- "We should put these warm fuzzies on our heads and make fun of the person who doesn't have one."&lt;br /&gt;- "Yeah, they could be Hairy Ball Caps" - Sully&lt;br /&gt;- "Where are your hairy balls?"&lt;br /&gt;- "You don't need hairy balls to be happy in life."&lt;br /&gt;- "Ignore the girls with hairy balls on their heads."&lt;br /&gt;- "We've got red balls and blue balls, all kinds of hairy balls!"&lt;br /&gt;- Dan getting slapped in the face. Twice.&lt;br /&gt;- Greg vs. Cody dance battle&lt;br /&gt;- One Eyebrowed Girl&lt;br /&gt;- Hearing Katie's talk&lt;br /&gt;- Getting my letters from my parents and loving them&lt;br /&gt;- hugging Greg, Gretchen, and Rae after they got my letters&lt;br /&gt;- Going into the Junior Room and writing to my secret pal who was right there.&lt;br /&gt;- Laughing with Chris, Lexi, Sean, and Brielle&lt;br /&gt;- Chris saying if he knew I was running for class officer, he would've run too.&lt;br /&gt;- seeing CB and John get there and being happy&lt;br /&gt;- Talking to CB as soon as he got there&lt;br /&gt;- CB calling me over to talk to me specifically&lt;br /&gt;- Giving CB his first warm fuzzy ever and him being totally confused&lt;br /&gt;- Organizing the Rose dinner walk-in and joking with Flynn about it&lt;br /&gt;- Eating dinner.&lt;br /&gt;- "WHERE'S SHA-PHOCK?!"&lt;br /&gt;- People hiding Sully's rock and telling him they threw it into the woods, but it was really right under the table.&lt;br /&gt;- Mad frisbee. Checking out the guys (not in a creepy way)&lt;br /&gt;- Erin's talk. Wow. Just wow. Defining moment in my life.&lt;br /&gt;- Writing his name on my rock and why I hate him.&lt;br /&gt;- Crying over it, but throwing my rock in the basket.&lt;br /&gt;- Finally deciding to let go of my mistake and move past him.&lt;br /&gt;- getting a massage from G-Tillz&lt;br /&gt;- Cody's "Firing Zone"&lt;br /&gt;- The Lifesaver Relay&lt;br /&gt;- Being next to Dan and Carly and it being SO AWKWARD (in a good way)&lt;br /&gt;- Sitting with Dan, Cody, Matt, Brielle, and Lexi at the ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;- Tying cherry stems with our mouths&lt;br /&gt;- Cody vs. Brielle tying, Brielle winning&lt;br /&gt;- Carly talking mad smack (but she's so cute)&lt;br /&gt;- The contest between Cody and M. Sulls for drinking the cherry juice&lt;br /&gt;- Neither of them throwing up, but Cody winning by a landslide.&lt;br /&gt;- Late night prayer. So intense. So amazing.&lt;br /&gt;- Praying for Jack's dad who was not healthy.&lt;br /&gt;- Rae pulling us together and telling us we were gonna be badass&lt;br /&gt;- Sneaking out of the retreat and instead of going home, going to Dunkin.&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing Dave C. at Dunkin and him congratulating me on my win.&lt;br /&gt;- Rae driving Gretchen's car around the parking lot. She didn't have permission. The door wasn't closed. My seat belt wasn't buckled. I had my hot chocolate in one hand and was trying to close the door with the other. I was like, "Rae, seriously Rae, stop the car. I'm gonna fall out. Rae, stop the car." She was going really fast in circles and when she finally stopped, she stopped so hard that the door closed  by itself.&lt;br /&gt;- Everybody laughing at what just happened.&lt;br /&gt;- Going to an elementary school and having a PARTAY&lt;br /&gt;- Watching the boys jump on the bridge&lt;br /&gt;- Swinging on the swings next to CB&lt;br /&gt;- Talking to CB about how amazing swings are.&lt;br /&gt;- Talking to the girls about setting up Sully and Claudia&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing RUDY (with a broken hand and ripped pants)&lt;br /&gt;- Leaving when we saw the shady car come by.&lt;br /&gt;- getting back to Katie's place&lt;br /&gt;- Completely, totally, and 100% opening up. I told the people in my sleep group things I haven't told anybody in my life. I was crying and they were so comforting.&lt;br /&gt;- Listening to EVERYBODY'S boy situations&lt;br /&gt;- Going to sleep at 3 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;- Waking up way too early.&lt;br /&gt;- Going to the church way too early.&lt;br /&gt;- Listening to the talks by everybody and loving each of them.&lt;br /&gt;- My small group was so pimpin', it's not even funny.&lt;br /&gt;- Talking to that group of boys again. I like them a lot.&lt;br /&gt;- Finding out the news of Jack's dad.&lt;br /&gt;- Putting on my sunglasses so nobody could see me crying.&lt;br /&gt;- Them calling us into a circle.&lt;br /&gt;- Watching as people started to realize what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing people break down. We all bonded as a family.&lt;br /&gt;- Calling my mom crying.&lt;br /&gt;- Getting tissues with Kathryn&lt;br /&gt;- Hugging Cody. I don't know how Cody got through it.&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing Dan in his condition. He needed support and I'm glad I could give at least some.&lt;br /&gt;- Matt and people gathering around him.&lt;br /&gt;- Staying for the mass.&lt;br /&gt;- Digo Si Senor&lt;br /&gt;- Dan walking down for hugs.&lt;br /&gt;- Love. Complete and total love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, I'm gonna edit this and add links to pictures. I never want to stop feeling like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend taught me how beautiful everything can be. It taught me that no matter what mistakes I made in my life, and I've made some big ones, I can always move past them. I can always love myself for the person I am, mistakes included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned how much I have to appreciate everything I have, and sadly I had to learn that the hard way. This weekend, I learned how much I love my parents and need them in my life. I then had to watch as one of us, one of our friends, suddenly lost his father. What if that were me? What if I lost my father before I had the time to tell him how much I love him and need him in my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many people who helped me become the person I've become. I just want to talk about them a little so I never forget them. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rae- Rae is such an open and amazing person. When I was sharing my secret in Sleep Group, She was the first to jump up and comfort me. She comforted me in the way I needed to be comforted. She told me to forget about him. She told me we all make mistakes. She gave me a hug and that's just what I needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin- I never knew that about her. Her sharing her secret let me open up and share mine. Without that, I wouldn't be in the position I'm in right now which is a good one. She's the nicest, sweetest, most beautiful girl in the world and it's a crime for her to think of herself as anything less than perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg- I've known him forever, but nothing can replace the hugs he gives and the support he lends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thrill- Such a funny guy. He's also so nice and so open, you can't help but open up to him. I love ever second of spending time with him. His talk also made me laugh, but think about myself, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sully- This is the second time he's been in my small group and it's great every time. I remember when he was so shy, but now, he's so different. He's amazingly funny. He named his rock after my best friend. He takes so much shit and is always laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flynn- This kid is so funny, not to mention one of the most attractive guys in the world. He knows how to be serious and how to be funny and he does each at the right time.  Whenever I'm around him, I just want to be open and do wild things. I really wish I could be more like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raquel- I love how I didn't really know her at all before the retreat. I think I actually requested her as a friend and she denied. But watching her throughout the retreat made me feel like I knew her forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody- Funniest kid in the world. I think I've said that about a couple people, but this kid is just amazing. He does crazy stuff all the time. I don't think he can ever get embarrassed. I wish I could be like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan- I talked to Dan a lot this retreat. He's such an open person and such a sincere person. He can break down and cry, but he can also get slapped in the face and be so hilarious. I think I'm most likely to be close to him out of all the boys. He's just amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to work on a final project that's due tomorrow. I love Antioch and I hope I'll never forget it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2648828714808845214?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2648828714808845214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2648828714808845214' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2648828714808845214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2648828714808845214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/06/antioch-09.html' title='Antioch &apos;09'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2409597809698257974</id><published>2009-06-04T21:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T22:11:38.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh baby YOUUUUU</title><content type='html'>"All of this time I've planed,&lt;br /&gt;I'd be patient, and,&lt;br /&gt;You would love me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd come to respect my mind,&lt;br /&gt;and at last you'd find,&lt;br /&gt;You could love me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have turned my whole world&lt;br /&gt;upside down,&lt;br /&gt;trying not to let you go...&lt;br /&gt;Watching you walk away&lt;br /&gt;is like a fatal blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I've been a pest&lt;br /&gt;But I guess my best&lt;br /&gt;Was not working with you&lt;br /&gt;But looks like I've found a cure&lt;br /&gt;And I so look forward to working with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey remember when we spent spring break&lt;br /&gt;In the hot tub every night&lt;br /&gt;We said nothing else&lt;br /&gt;Could ever feel so right&lt;br /&gt;Well this might!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my name up on that list&lt;br /&gt;That beats the first time that we kissed&lt;br /&gt;You thought I was dumb&lt;br /&gt;But I think that somebody's judgement was poor&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my name in black and white&lt;br /&gt;It's like making love with you all night&lt;br /&gt;NO WAIT!&lt;br /&gt;It feels so much better&lt;br /&gt;hello much better&lt;br /&gt;its oh, oh, oh, oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;much better&lt;br /&gt;'cause I am so much better than before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maybe she's what you prefer&lt;br /&gt;But hey last year I was her&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you will change your mind&lt;br /&gt;But you might look up to find&lt;br /&gt;I've gone on to better things&lt;br /&gt;Better jobs or bigger rings &lt;/b&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody else love that song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of songs, I watch the Yankee games a lot. Actually, I've watched each of the past ten or so games and each one is about three hours long. For those of you who don't know baseball, each baseball game is 9 innings. Each inning is 2 halves. There is always a commercial break between each half. There are also commercial breaks whenever a team changes pitchers. I'd say there are usually three-ish pitchers for each team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are a lot of commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one commercial they play so often, it's ridiculous. This is that commercial:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2jqZTJk30qg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2jqZTJk30qg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be just a normal commercial the first time you watch it, maybe even the second time you watch it. But the thirtieth time you watch it, you realize how AMAZING it is. The song is constantly stuck in my head. CONSTANTLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my Britney Spears essay was published in the literary magazine at my school today. A lot of people came up to me and told me they read it. Now everybody knows how much I love Britney Spears. Some people asked me if I was serious. My reply was, "Mostly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I find out whether or not I'm a class officer. This makes me a little nervous because I don't think I won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going on a church retreat tomorrow. I'm so excited. I've been waiting forever for this retreat and I'm so glad it's finally happening. I'm missing the SATs for this. I'm PUMPED! I just need to choose my outfits and pack my bag. I hope everything goes well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also... blogsecret... 2072. Made me upset a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2409597809698257974?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2409597809698257974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2409597809698257974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2409597809698257974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2409597809698257974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-baby-youuuuu.html' title='Oh baby YOUUUUU'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4503553044217853786</id><published>2009-05-31T21:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T21:52:36.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Group and CB</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I know, two blog posts in one day. BUT I'm in a good mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I'm so happy needs a bunch of back story, so here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way my church retreats work is that there may be about 40 people on the retreat, but we then split into small groups. Each small group has about 5 people in it. The Youth Group leader chooses these small groups semi-randomly. They don't want to put best friends together, but they don't spend hours making sure each group is perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm really good friends with a senior named Greg who's helping to organize the retreat. I said something to him like, "Hey, would you be able to hook me up in a small group with CB? I'm sorta madly in love with him and I'm planning to win him over on this retreat." He said he would talk to the youth group leader and see what he could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty tight with the youth group leader. Today at YG, I asked Greg if he hooked up my small group. He asked the Youth Group leader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She grabbed my hand and said, "I'm really not allowed to tell you, but look at me." She winked. "I've got your back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M SO HAPPY!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4503553044217853786?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4503553044217853786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4503553044217853786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4503553044217853786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4503553044217853786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/small-group-and-cb.html' title='Small Group and CB'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1436673247100174108</id><published>2009-05-31T12:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T16:06:32.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets, Food, and Letters</title><content type='html'>So I found this place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogsecret.tumblr.com/"&gt;http://blogsecret.tumblr.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it somehow makes me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read PostSecret every week, but I can't always relate to what's said there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1758.) You've made me feel like shit, hate myself, hurt myself, change myself. i've loved you and you've known it, you've taken it and turned it into the destruction of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1729.) When you told me you loved me, i really thought you meant it. And i thought you were different. I needed you more than you will ever know, you made me happiest when i was lowest. And now i'm back to point A. i miss you and i won't forget how you made me feel. Too bad you've forgotten already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1714.) Just, get in my pants. Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1708.) When it comes to you, I'm weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1697.) im so in love with my best friend. i really want to kiss her. but im not gay or bi. i dont think... &lt;-- that one made me lol  1684.) I think you're insanely good looking. You made me stop liking my previous guy. &lt;-- CB &lt;3 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1650.) i secretly think im amazing. &lt;-- love that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got sent a link to this place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/"&gt;http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I should be offended that he sent that to me, but I was too busy falling in love with the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep Fried Lard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://17.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19na59b2fXSovmd6uo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast Sushi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://6.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19k2m2zf2o3teQWlko1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Circuis Waffle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="" scr="http://21.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19kczg0x66J0mp0Eio1_r1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blueberry Waffle Breakfast Sandwich:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://22.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19ko19bu0nFGZzTp8o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep Fried S'more on a Stick:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://20.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19jvaa9mlwrtiDkJgo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep Fried Coca-Cola:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://18.media.tumblr.com/i2dw5nf19jgzo8g7OwMPJHuDo1_500.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT STUFF LOOKS SO GOOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I not weigh 300 pounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I got my dress for senior prom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://dailybooth.com/pictures/large/5/0/509e46a258212bf1a704686b9dcb88d7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what it looks like on the store website thingy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.windsorstore.com/images/products/1_85452_FS.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yesterday, I got to hang out with my cousins again. I don't really get to hang out with them too much, but we're really really close. We're like friends more than we are cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited for next weekend. When I think about it, I get really really super anxious. I just want to go on that retreat and have the time of my life! I still need to write letters to Greg, Gretchen, and Rae though... shitfuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now have 3 hours to write those. THERE'S NO TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and this place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylifeisaverage.com/"&gt;My Life Is Average&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1436673247100174108?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1436673247100174108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1436673247100174108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1436673247100174108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1436673247100174108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/secrets-food-and-letters.html' title='Secrets, Food, and Letters'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-942655518997945826</id><published>2009-05-28T21:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:30:43.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Swine Flu</title><content type='html'>A kid at my school has it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-942655518997945826?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/942655518997945826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=942655518997945826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/942655518997945826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/942655518997945826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/swine-flu.html' title='Swine Flu'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4663107103757482505</id><published>2009-05-25T20:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T22:24:09.018-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Kissed a Girl</title><content type='html'>Look at the date of this slightly edited conversation:&lt;br /&gt;(it's only slightly edited to get to the point faster. Everything is completely true. I even included my misspelling of caterpillar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:02:24 PM] Leslie says: where is everyone at?&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:02:27 PM] Tara says: I'm in theborzoi's room&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:02:45 PM] Leslie says: who else is in there?&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:38:18 PM] Tara says: I left to edit the video&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:38:32 PM] Tara says: But there was this really really cute guy in there&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:38:41 PM] Leslie says: oooooo tell me&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:39:00 PM] Tara says: So, he was really cute, so I added him as a friend and found out he's 16&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:39:14 PM] Tara says: and he would do random things like he showed us this kiddy caterpiller toy he has&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:39:22 PM] Leslie says: fun fun&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:39:27 PM] Tara says: and then he put on a tie. Then he put that tie on his head and said he was rambo&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:40:03 PM] Leslie says: ...&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:40:28 PM] Tara says: it was so freakin adorable&lt;br /&gt;[5/24/2008 10:40:45 PM] Leslie says: you and your boy addiction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that when I had no internet and I got a little bit emotional.&lt;br /&gt;So I started texting Shafaq and she was telling me about what she remembered of Friday night and I was filling in the blanks for her. More on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing that conversation made me realize how far I've come in the past year. I'm still the same person, but I've gone through so much more stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for the first time I can actually say I've had my heart broken, at least to a degree. But I can also say I got over it and I'm happier because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh nostalgia. So nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so Shafaq. I kissed that girl and I liked it. She's really hot and we've always said, "When one of us gets drunk, we're gonna make out." Well one of us was drunk and we made out. Love that girl. Craziest drunken bitch ever. Here are some quotes you won't understand, but I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna touch every pole Tara. Come touch the poles with me. I want to touch that oneeee!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really hate Nat. I want to call him and tell him how much I hate him. But I love his brotherrrrr." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love Kris Allen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's really all I have to say. And this is the first proof that I'm an actual whore and not just a pretend one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4663107103757482505?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4663107103757482505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4663107103757482505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4663107103757482505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4663107103757482505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-kissed-girl.html' title='I Kissed a Girl'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5799843051510475130</id><published>2009-05-17T23:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T23:30:18.975-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because Q Said So</title><content type='html'>I was told to blog about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate Steven. Now you might be thinking, "Now Tara, I know that can't be true. You love Steven with all of your heart and soul."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be true if this hadn't happene:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[10:32:19 PM] Steven says: did you see my latest youtube video?&lt;br /&gt;[10:32:59 PM] TGal227 says: not yet. I'm watching Survivor with my mom, so I can't make any noise&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:37 PM] Steven says: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:41 PM] Steven says: jk&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:43 PM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:49 PM] TGal227 says: what? huh?&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:54 PM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[10:33:58 PM] TGal227 says: I DON'T GET IT!&lt;br /&gt;[10:41:30 PM] Steven says: ?&lt;br /&gt;[10:41:31 PM] Steven says: dont get what&lt;br /&gt;[10:41:46 PM] TGal227 says: Why you said "AAAAAAHHHH" then "jk"&lt;br /&gt;[10:41:52 PM] TGal227 says: I DON'T GET WHAT YOU WERE KIDDING ABOUT!&lt;br /&gt;[10:41:58 PM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[10:42:11 PM] Steven says: ?&lt;br /&gt;[10:42:17 PM] TGal227 says: You're hurting my brain.&lt;br /&gt;[10:42:33 PM] Steven says: i dont even know what you're talking about&lt;br /&gt;[10:42:33 PM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[10:43:15 PM] TGal227 says: *asplode*&lt;br /&gt;[10:43:19 PM] TGal227 says: that was my brain&lt;br /&gt;[10:45:19 PM] Steven says: :) i know&lt;br /&gt;[10:45:45 PM] TGal227 says: IHATECHEW&lt;br /&gt;[10:48:52 PM] Steven says: OMG GUESS WHAT JUST HaPPENED?&lt;br /&gt;[10:48:53 PM] Steven says: !&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:01 PM] TGal227 says: WHAT?!&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:07 PM] Steven says: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:07 PM] Steven says: jk&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:10 PM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:21 PM] TGal227 says: OH MY GOD I HATE YOU&lt;br /&gt;[10:49:27 PM] Steven says: :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I &lt;3 Church Boy. He's so cute and amazing and makes me feel happy. You know I really like a guy when he reduces my vocabulary to a fourth grade level. I just can't use words to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Yankees rock. And that's all I have to say about that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So every weekend I watch a lot of movies. These are the ones I watched this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;Forrest Gump&lt;br /&gt;Bring It On&lt;br /&gt;Fever Pitch&lt;br /&gt;The Perfect Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems like a lot of nonsense, but the idea flow makes sense in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get a hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all I have to say about that. BYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5799843051510475130?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5799843051510475130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5799843051510475130' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5799843051510475130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5799843051510475130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/because-q-said-so.html' title='Because Q Said So'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4291048554707014609</id><published>2009-05-17T11:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T11:55:37.174-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Survey</title><content type='html'>I got tagged in another survey thing and usually I don't do these, but this one seemed a little interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your favorite color gummy bear?&lt;br /&gt;Red. Always red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the sexiest part of the opposite sex's body?&lt;br /&gt;I have a weird answer to this question, so I'm not gonna say it. But no, it's not dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever made up/sang a song for someone you cared about?&lt;br /&gt;I've made up songs about somebody, but I would never even think about singing it to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever had a song sang about/for you?&lt;br /&gt;LMAO Yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a baby in the room with you right now?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how to dance?&lt;br /&gt;hahaha, noooooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you sing the most, in the car, the shower or other?&lt;br /&gt;Other. Sitting on my bed with my guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite thing that is green?&lt;br /&gt;Money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did your last text message say?&lt;br /&gt;"I'm here" from my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boxers, briefs or boxer briefs?&lt;br /&gt;boxer briefs (srsly nao, how am I supposed to answer that question?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your middle name?&lt;br /&gt;Clare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the way to your heart?&lt;br /&gt;Music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you smell like?&lt;br /&gt;"Japanese Cherry Blossom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's in your pocket?&lt;br /&gt;No pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything in your mouth?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever hurt yourself playing Wii?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Wii Tennis is intense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have freckles?&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many languages can you say "Hello" in?&lt;br /&gt;4 ish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the last movie you saw in the theater?&lt;br /&gt;17 Again (and it was amazing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever jumped/fallen/been pushed in a pool with your clothes on?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, way too many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you wearing any clothes that you wore yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;I haven't changed yet this morning, so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name a song that you know all the words to:&lt;br /&gt;Heartless by Kanye West, but the Kris Allen version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you in love with someone right now?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Kris Fucking Allen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the last thing you watched on TV?&lt;br /&gt;Charm School or whatever that trashy show is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the last video game you played?&lt;br /&gt;Rock Band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is your daddy and what does he do?&lt;br /&gt;My daddy is Kenneth and he's an Accountant, college professor, lecturer, and MAGICIAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you do the alphabet in sign language?&lt;br /&gt;STORY TIME! I'm in love with a deaf guy  named Luke. I saw him on a reality TV show. Here's a picture of him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.ntid.rit.edu/media/images/article_photos/855_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How adorable is he?&lt;br /&gt;Well, yes, I do know the alphabet. I've been practicing so when I meet Luke, I can impress him.&lt;br /&gt;HOLD THE FUCK ON!&lt;br /&gt;I just was googling him to find a picture of him and... he's gay? NOOOO!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I'm depressed now. Fuck you survey thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have an unkle named Joe?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I actually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What word do you use when people pass gas?&lt;br /&gt;There's a word? I don't get this question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you wear glasses?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can you hear right now?&lt;br /&gt;I'm half playing the guitar, half answering these questions, so yeah, that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you feel better or worse or the same yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;The same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been overseas?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your plans for today?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, then Youth Group where I get to see Church Boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your favorite childhood show?&lt;br /&gt;As Told By Ginger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you close to your siblings?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your first job?&lt;br /&gt;Soccer referee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you bite your nails?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like your feet?&lt;br /&gt;ugh, no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you sleep well at night?&lt;br /&gt;I've been sleeping about 11 hours a night lately which is bad. So yes and no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That survey just ruined my day. I can't get over the Luke thing.&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4291048554707014609?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4291048554707014609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4291048554707014609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4291048554707014609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4291048554707014609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-survey.html' title='Another Survey'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4164950995942367010</id><published>2009-05-16T19:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T20:10:02.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm So IRL</title><content type='html'>I've been so IRL lately, it's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was the French Club dance. I pretty much organized the entire thing even though I'm only the Secretary. The president's job for the dance was to take care of the music. He made the playlist the day before. That day at school, he texted me asking if I had my thumb drive so he could transfer the music to there. The iPod didn't work. The flash drive didn't work. While I was setting up for the dance, he was going home and burning CDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody complimented the decorations which is nice. That was my main job.  I also set up the entire food stand thingy and people liked the food. That was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But overall, the party was really really boring. It was horribly advertised so the only people who actually went were the people my French teacher offered extra credit to.  My date (Shafaq. More on that later) and I were working the door and it was horribly boring. Then this guy walked in and we decided he was hot. He was really, really hot. So then we decided to play a game called, "Who can Hook Up With That Guy First?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That game was mainly a joke, but it turns out he's really really nice. Let's just say I almost won, but Greg is a cockblocker. When Hot Kid (his name was Eric, it's just more fun to refer to people in epithets) asked me to dance, I went to dance with him, but Greg (the president) was like, "NO! You need to help clean up." I was like, "Thanks. I set up this entire thing, I did most of the planning, and I go to have some fun at the end of the night and you decide I can't. You're great." Except I didn't really say that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right after that, I went to a Post-AP Party. I didn't take any AP tests this year so I felt weird being there, but it was so much fun. It was mainly my Asians, but there were some white people. And my date was there, so that's always fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shafaq and I have this weird relationship type thing. We're both madly in love with each other. We're always with each other. We're always joking about how we're a more adorable couple than anybody else. We take pictures like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 450px; height: 338px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs037.snc1/3298_1166567407734_1334371108_30937153_627317_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs032.snc1/3230_185502245470_668090470_6599079_2815050_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we had a conversation that went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;Me: Next week when we're wasted, we're gonna end up hooking up.&lt;br /&gt;Her: I'm gonna be drunk, but you're gonna be sober. What's your excuse?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'll do because you're hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's how we roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Post-AP Party, stuff like this happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4540/236/27/503874798/n503874798_1618881_1209555.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also had "AP Bio vs. AP Chem" wars. Somebody ended up yelling, "I'M RELYING ON MY PERIODIC TABLE TO GIVE ME STRENGTH!" And I realized how much I love my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at one point in the hot tub, one of the white guys leaned over to me and was like, "I'm trying to decode their Asian speak." The Asians were speaking English, but they were just... mental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great time and life is fun. I like IRL. Next weekend is gonna be... crazy. So crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4164950995942367010?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4164950995942367010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4164950995942367010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4164950995942367010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4164950995942367010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-so-irl.html' title='I&apos;m So IRL'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-7514938151363598975</id><published>2009-05-13T22:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T22:31:41.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Happy</title><content type='html'>Readers of this blog should be familiar with the character in my life named "Church Boy." If you're not aware, here's all the information you need to know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH MY GOD! He's so hot and so intense. He's also super duper religious and I see him all the time at church. He threatens to beat people up for me and that's hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well today I was driving with my mom to Party City. When I pull up to a red light, I see the guy in the car next to me wearing a green hat. I think, "Could it be?" So I pull up a little and see, yes indeed, it's Church Boy. We then share the most awkward moment ever where we wave to each other, then I need to look back to make sure the light didn't turn green, then we look back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the light turns green. We both floor it (even though my mom kept yelling "THIS IS NOT A RACE!"). But he was in the right lane which turned right away, so there really wasn't much of a race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I saw that he had written on my facebook wall. He said, "yooo we should drag race more often that was balllin' :P"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a fangirl moment, then replied, "Oh yeah. My minivan can kick your ass any day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he said, " are you kidding i smoked you off the start. not my fault i had to take that courner... i musta been doing 75 when i cut that. you had the straight away :/"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were an awesome girl, that would be why my day was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And does anybody remember that most popular guy in my school? The homecoming king? The one who added me as a friend on facebook? Well he's gonna be getting some... beverages... for me and my friends. It's gonna be lulz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a date to the French Club dance this Friday, then I'm going straight from there to a party at my friend's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these past couple days have been fun and the next couple weeks are gonna be even more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! I also took a math test today. I meant to study last night, but that failed. I fell asleep by accident. So I went into school. First of all, I forgot my calculator, and when I say "forgot" I mean "lost." I had to scramble to a) Find a calculator to use, and it had to be a TI 83 Plus at leaast, and b) Find out what the fuck was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something with sequences and sums of sequences. There were equations I needed to know. I have no fucking clue. But I ended up getting help with it and when I took the test, I think I actually did well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one question that was something like this:&lt;br /&gt;What is the sum of all the three digit integers which end in 2, but aren't multiples of 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no clue how to do it, so I just wrote out all the numbers that fit that criteria. I got something in the 29,000 range. No clue if that's right or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went shopping with my French teacher. I love her. Today was great. I'm in a good mood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-7514938151363598975?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/7514938151363598975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=7514938151363598975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7514938151363598975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7514938151363598975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-happy.html' title='I&apos;m Happy'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5287664163007856744</id><published>2009-05-10T22:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:09:28.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>POP goes the cyst</title><content type='html'>If you don't want to read about icky medical problems, don't read on. That was your warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I ruptured another cyst. Pretty much what rupturing a cyst feels like is somebody stabbing you in the gut, then twisting it, then punching you where they stabbed you for a couple hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put it more into perspective, when I went into the hospital, a man (who had ruptured a different kind of cyst) said it was more painful than getting kicked the balls. A woman said it was more painful than giving birth. That's what I went through last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was biting on my finger to the point where I started bleeding and realized I needed to take my mind off it somehow. So I went all attentionseeker on twitter and told people to talk to me on skype. I didn't want to start a conversation with somebody and be like, "Hi. Talk to me. I'm gonna be a complete bitch though because a bubble of fluids just popped inside of me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several people came to my rescue and it made me so happy.  I think they might have been the only thing keeping me from punching a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm in the post-cyst state where I'm still in pain and don't feel like doing anything. I don't feel like eating or doing homework or anything. I just want to sit and feel sorry for myself because I'm still in a lot of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm so grateful for those people who responded to my twitter plea. It makes me see who will really be there for me when I need them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I watched this video a thousand times to help me feel better:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlN6tO818S8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too scared to embed it because if he checks that I'll be embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just look at his eyes! *fangirls*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna be adding this new segment to my blog (lulzcheesy) called&lt;br /&gt;COLLEGE WATCH&lt;br /&gt;because I need to fucking focus on what college I want to go to. Currently, I want to go to EMERSON COLLEGE in Boston, Massachusetts. It. Is Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only downside is that it's hella expensive. It's about $40,000 a year including room and board.  HOWEVER, $28,000 of that is tuition and Emerson has this thing where if you make it into the honors program, you get half off tuition. That would make it about $26,000 a year, which is much more doable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AVERAGE GPA: 3.42&lt;br /&gt;AVERAGE SAT: 1924&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a beautiful place and I want to go there. I really want to go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for tonight. Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5287664163007856744?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5287664163007856744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5287664163007856744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5287664163007856744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5287664163007856744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/pop-goes-cyst.html' title='POP goes the cyst'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2351183649100425800</id><published>2009-05-07T17:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T18:23:16.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A While</title><content type='html'>I have a lot of stuff to talk about, so let's do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I can't not sleep. I've been so tired 24/7 lately. In 3 days, I slept a combined total of 44 hours. That's a lot of hours, especially considering I also had 21 hours of school. Whenever I sit anywhere comfortable, I fall asleep. It's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm running for Class Officer. There are 4 Class Officers for each grade and they elect new ones every year. I've always wanted to run, but I was always too lazy to get the paperwork in.  This year, the Class Officers we elected were terrible. We had no money for prom and the centerpieces were disasters. One balloon attached to a mug. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the night, but that part was terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm running this year and I'm really nervous. I do have a lot of friends at school, but I really wasn't sure. I don't think anybody really hates me, but I don't think I'm great friends with everybody. I needed to get 75 Student signatures and 10 Teacher signatures in order to run. I got my form yesterday right after school and just walking out the doors, 7 people signed. Today when I brought it to class, people saw I had it and were asking to sign it. I didn't even have to approach them and ask! A lot of people said they were excited I was running and they were gonna vote for me. And when I was getting the teachers to sign it, a couple teachers told me they were glad I was running because I could really bring change to the school. I'm really excited. Now I have to work on a speech. And then I have to actually get votes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the other people who are running are a) that girl in class who never talks and when she does, nobody can hear a word she says, b) that girl who nobody knows her name, c) a quiet Asian girl who was new to the school last year, d) one of my good friends who did a lot of work with the prom this year, e) one of those popular guys who also happens to be hard working. There may be more, but I haven't heard of them running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. So I have this guy friend who I'm sortof friends with, but I'm not too close to him. I talk to him every once in a while, but it's usually with a group. The thing with sleeping 44 hours in 3 days is that you dream a lot. Well I had a dream where we were hanging out. We were just talking and having an amazing time and I think it was assumed in the dream that we were going out... I'm not really sure how that worked. But it was the most amazing dream ever and something just felt right. Now I think I'm crushing on a guy based off a totally fictional dream. The thing is, that guy is really one of the nicest guys I know. We laugh together all the time. We have a similar sense of humor. He's stood up for me when people were picking on me. He's also really hot. It's just weird because I feel like my feelings are fake, but I understand why I would feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Danylo is trying to get me to wear a Darth Vader mask to prom with him. Not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. LULZ Manny Ramirez is a roid user. I could've told you that. I hate that dude so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Kris Allen was safe on American Idol which is good because I can be sexually pleased by him again next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'VE DECIDED THE SEXY SIX!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*background* I'm a huge Yankee fan. I'm a little psycho. Well maybe five years ago, I realized that there were a lot of hot Yankees. So I listed the really hot ones and there were six of them. That list then became my Sexy Six (the originals were Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Robinson Cano, Tanyon Sturtze, and Bubba Crosby). This Sexy Six was determined mostly by looks, but also by personality and playing ability. I've kept it up, rotated players, replaced traded players, and established a pretty nice list. This year though, a lot of players left. That forced me to change it up a lot this year. I'm pretty well known for this list and people have been asking me for it. I figured I would show it here first:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE SEXY SIX:&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://janeheller.mlblogs.com/Derek-Jeter-fistpump.jpeg"&gt;Derek Jeter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.rixmag.com/celebrities/large/celebs/robinsoncano.jpg"&gt;Robinson Cano&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://lolyankees.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/09lolyankees05.jpg?w=500&amp;amp;h=667"&gt;Nick Swisher&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Bcf_6uMS4/SPquZsZm1kI/AAAAAAAAGjo/_XEUb70wr-U/s400/Joba+Yankee.jpg"&gt;Joba Chamberlain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://nbcsportsmedia.msnbc.com/j/getty/gyi0055361424.widec.jpg"&gt;Melky Cabrera&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.hotstovenewyork.com/images/hughes2.jpg"&gt;Phil Hugues&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick Swisher is an outfielder. He pitched an inning. He struck a guy out. He didn't allow any runs. THAT NEVER HAPPENS! Joba and Melky are on there for their personalities, playing abilities, and adorableness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. This may seem random, but if you know me well at all, it's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after Kenny and I broke up, he decided to ask me what I liked about him. He just wanted an ego boost, but he was crying, so I figured I'd give it to him. This is pretty much what I said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a very boy crazy person. I love looking at hot guys and talking about hot guys. But when I was with you, I didn't think about other guys at all. Even if I saw a good looking guy, I wasn't attracted to him at all because I knew I had something better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after Kenny and I were done, I still felt that way for a while. There are only two guys I've ever felt that way about.  I've forgotten how much fun it is to be boy-crazy without having any deeper feelings for the guys. It's liberating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2351183649100425800?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2351183649100425800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2351183649100425800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2351183649100425800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2351183649100425800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s Been A While'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5655427231740502045</id><published>2009-05-05T19:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:36:53.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>I got tagged in this on Facebook, but I'm gonna do it here instead. Q and Borzoi tagged me because they want to stalk me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A - Age: 16&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B - Bed size: Twin at home, Queen at the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C - Chore you hate: Doing Laundry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D - Dog's name: Lilly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E - Essential start to your day: Urination&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F - Favorite color(s): Light teal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - Gold or Silver: Silver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H - Height: 5'6"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I - Instruments you play: Guitar, ukulele, violin, keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J - Job title: Full time student&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K - Kids: Only 5 kids with Steven, some with Q's accent, and some Borzoi Babies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L - Living arrangements: With my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M - Mom's name: Debra Anne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N - Nicknames: T, TC, Tar, Whoreface&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O - Overnight hospital stay other than your birth: When I was 7 months old, I had meningitis. Then when I was 14... I don't like to talk about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P - Pet Peeve: improper grammar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q - Quote from a movie: *see last post*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R - Right or left handed: Right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S - Secret crush: Kris Allen. I don't think that's secret. I guess a real secret crush would be a guy Dave from my Creative Writing class. He's an orgasmic person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T - Time you wake up: 6:00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U - Underwear: No. (that was a joke based on the fact that I'm a whore. I don't look up to Britney THAT much)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V - Vegetable you dislike: Broccoli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W - Workout style: Insane random dancing in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X - X-rays you've had: Let's do this! Nose, ankle, knee, knuckle, wrist, ovaries (I think that may have been a CT scan, but close enough), arm, thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y - Yesterday's best moment: I don't remember yesterday. Today's best moment was giving Tim his birthday card. He seemed to enjoy it, but I'm not really sure what joy looks like in him. He did say, "Oh my God, is that Stalin? I love you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z - Zoo favorite: Monkeys. Story time! When I was 6, I went to the Bronx Zoo with my dad and our family friends (side story, my dad said he was gay with the other dad so we could get family passes together) We were in this cave thing looking at the monkeys. I got very caught up in it and was fascinated. When I turned around, nobody was there. I got lost in the Bronx Zoo. Scary shit, yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations. You now know more about me than you ever wanted to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5655427231740502045?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5655427231740502045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5655427231740502045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5655427231740502045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5655427231740502045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8630936347659025686</id><published>2009-05-03T13:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T18:10:21.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Lovefest</title><content type='html'>"I have wasted thousands and thousands of kisses on you - kisses that I thought were special because of your lips and your smile and all your color and life. I used to think that was the real you, when you smiled. But now I know you don't mean any of it. You just save it for all your songs. Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FUCKING LOVE THAT MOVIE! And that's my absolute favorite part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I watched the extended version of That Thing You Do. It's the first time I saw that version and there were 40 extra minutes. It was amazing! I'm so in love with that movie, words can't even describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I saw Dirty Dancing for the millionth time. I already watched it last night, but I watched it again today. It was just as good as the first time I saw it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are two of my favorite movies ever and I've seen a lot of movies.  This weekend has been a great weekend for movie watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just took a break from writing this and watched Clueless. It's been a couple years since I watched that and I never realized how many drug references are in there. But I fell in love with Josh aka Paul Rudd. I need to marry a Josh-ish guy some day. Or maybe a guy like Guy Patterson from That Thing You Do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely not Johnny Castle from Dirty Dancing though. He's mean and he tries hard to be badass. But seriously, who is he kidding? He's a dancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or Zac Efron. Marrying Zac Efron would be nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of teen sensations, I watched JONAS today. Yes, the Jonas Brothers have a TV show. My little sister had a party last night and had a bunch of friends come over to watch it. It was so terrible. The "plotline" is that there are these brothers, Kevin, Joe, and Nick. Their last name is Lucas, but they're in a wildly popular band called JONAS. Yes, all capital letters. The one thing I do like is that they make fun of themselves. And seriously Kevin? You think you can pretend to be a high schooler? You're, like, thirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first episode was pretty much about how Nick is an idiot and falls in love with girls too quickly. It was terrible. Watch it if you want to laugh at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a very productive weekend. I watched 5 movies (well, 4 movies, but I watched one of them twice), I learned a buttload of songs on the guitar, and I took/failed the SATs. Now I have to go back to school on Monday. funtimez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8630936347659025686?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8630936347659025686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8630936347659025686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8630936347659025686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8630936347659025686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/movie-lovefest.html' title='Movie Lovefest'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1539567493719974056</id><published>2009-05-02T22:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T22:29:30.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I Won't</title><content type='html'>I'm with Hayley (of the ghoover variety) on this one, it's so hard to stop blogging every day once you start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things happen to me and I just think, "This needs to be blogged!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I took the SATs. My room was filled with dumbasses. I pwned the Math part (I think). I never want to think about that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I texted Emma asking her if she wanted to go to the movies tonight to see 17 Again. It was one of the best movies I've seen. It was quirky and hilarious. Maybe I was just in the right mood, but I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Okay, story time:&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in Junior year, I met a knight in shining armor, Kenny. He was my type (Half-Asian and smart. That's a weird type, I know) and he knew just what to say to make me giggle like the fangirl I am. We went out for a while, but we weren't "Official". But seriously, come on. If you show up at a high school event holding hands, you're pretty much official.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, out of nowhere, he decided to tell our mutual friend to tell me that he doesn't want to go out anymore. I was shocked. He was perfect and we had such an amazing time together. So that night, he imed me and ended it over the internet. Douche. But then he called me a couple hours later. He was crying. He was pathetic. He was a mess. I realized how emotionally unstable he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was during that phone call that I got over him. It was so fast, but I realized that I didn't need him. I realized how crazy he really was and that he didn't mean anything he said to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next weeks were the happiest weeks of my life. I was prancing around for no reason. I was so self-confident, it was ridiculous.  I didn't even think of him anymore. He didn't matter to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is that sometimes, getting your heart broken is worth it because the feeling when you get over somebody is the best feeling in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently in a very good mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned how to play some Julia Nunes on the guitar using all barre chords and my hand is in so much pain. It's the good kind of pain though. It's the kind of pain that produces beautiful results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact: I always keep the Sound Recorder open so if I have an idea, I can record it and put it in my "IDEAS" folder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go vomit up the popcorn I ate during the movies. BYE!&lt;br /&gt;(ps, that's not because i'm bulimic, it's because i put disgusting amounts of "butter" on it and that stuff can make anybody sick. or maybe it's just the swine flu)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1539567493719974056?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1539567493719974056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1539567493719974056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1539567493719974056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1539567493719974056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-i-wont.html' title='Maybe I Won&apos;t'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-394353320799828111</id><published>2009-05-01T23:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T00:16:32.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MY PRESIDENT IS BLACK</title><content type='html'>I didn't expect to be blogging today (technically it's today/tomorrow anyway), but I'm bored tired and lonely, so I'm doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say, "I'm lonely" I don't mean anything deeper than the fact that nobody seems to be online. I mean, I could talk to Twig and DaveGX, but I would really prefer not to. I even started a conversation with Omar, but then I remembered that he isn't really that interesting except for the fact that his name's Omar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are usually a couple people I would be talking to right now. Probably, Q, Minish, and Steven. None of them are online. I feel like everybody left the internet and I didn't get the memo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's an over exaggeration, but I have the SATs tomorrow. I told myself I would use the times between 11:30 and 12:00 to just talk to people. Now that I've earned that reward, there's nobody to talk to! Except this blog. I'm talking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in English we were talking about famous brothers. Somebody said Cain and Abel. Somebody said Romulus and Remus. Then somebody said Liam and Noel Gallagher. I was the only one who laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I earned extra credit on a US History test because I knew that my teacher's ringtone is "My President is Black".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my grandma drink bubble tea and she almost threw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the bubble tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out that a couple of my friends have YouTube channels, so that's always fun. I won't subscribe to them though because I don't want them to find mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan created a program in my calculator that as soon as you press a button, it says: "I'D FAP THAT SHIT" As soon as you press another button, it floods the calculator with "FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP". That was fun because it was like my calculator was fapping. That's what math nerds do in their spare time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Swine Flu jokes. Until somebody I know dies, it's funny. I think that's pretty much live my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY PRESIDENT IS BLACK. PEACE OUT Y'ALL.&lt;br /&gt;(i like ending sentences in "y'all" to confirm that i am indeed very, very white)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-394353320799828111?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/394353320799828111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=394353320799828111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/394353320799828111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/394353320799828111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-president-is-black.html' title='MY PRESIDENT IS BLACK'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4389073231385791718</id><published>2009-04-30T22:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T23:09:09.774-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day of BEDA</title><content type='html'>It's weird because the final day of BEDA is also my 100th blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized how much I love doing BEDA. It's nice to have an excuse to sit down at the end of the day and just think about what you did. I get to contemplate what I was thinking and feeling throughout the day. I also get to remember the little things that made my day amazing. I don't care if anybody reads this. I know my life isn't too interesting, but I like writing stuff for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I'm gonna blog more often. I might make some private (if I can figure out how to do that) so I won't constantly bother people.  I might also decide not to care and just blog when I want. My blog is probably the most private thing I have. It's the one place where my name isn't just "TGal227". I've never talked about it on my YouTube channel. I rarely link it on Twitter; I think I may have done that three times total. People find it by asking me or from me commenting on blogs, so I guess the only people who read it are the people who care the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's also why I don't really censor myself on here. Of course I keep some privacy because it is the internet and anybody can find it, but I use it as a place to vent everything I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I wrote down some things I wanted to remember and at the end of the day, I had a paper that said this:&lt;br /&gt;- Nick's "girlfriend"&lt;br /&gt;- Jeff and David's calculator cell phones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I understand what they mean, I'm not sure why I thought they were interesting. The first one was us making fun of a kid because he walked from one class to another with a girl. The other was my teacher thinking Dave's calculator was a cell phone, then him "calling" Jeff with his calculator. Not very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm so excited because now I can go onto hating my best friend's ex boyfriend, David.  I had to pretend to like him while they were going out and now all of my built up anger is coming out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just by chance, today in Physics, Natile told Andrew (you may know him as the most popular kid in my school and the Homecoming King who added me as a friend on Facebook) how I got my black eye.  Now, Andrew thinks Dave's a dick because he hurt me and is gonna "protect" me by scaring the shit out of David. That's very possible because Andrew is HUGE! He's giant! He's tall (maybe 6'4") and just... round. He's like a big teddy bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My French teacher also said she doesn't like him. That was fun to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been freaking out for the SATs. I'm taking them on Saturday and I feel like I haven't studied nearly enough.  My vocabulary sucks and I'm terrible at multiple choice grammar. The only thing I'm confident about is my math. On the PSATs, I only got 1 question wrong and I got it wrong because I did a:b instead of b:a.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NYU is my dream school (even though I'm not sure whether or not I would actually go there if I got accepted) and to get in there, I would need about a 2100 on the SATs. Here are my goals:&lt;br /&gt;Math- 800&lt;br /&gt;Reading- 720&lt;br /&gt;Writing- 650&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be great. On the PSATs, I pretty much got this:&lt;br /&gt;Math- 750&lt;br /&gt;Reading- 700&lt;br /&gt;Writing- 540&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm gonna be studying my ass off. I'll be the first to admit that I put the minimum amount of effort into my school work. However, when I need to study for something, I'm an expert studier.  I know just what to do to learn the information I need to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't hurt that I have more SAT books than I can count. I have practice test books, books of vocabulary words, grammar books, and SAT study strategies books. I'm not afraid to highlight them and mark them up in any way possible that will shove this information into my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan looks good shirtless. That's all I'm gonna say. 0:)&lt;br /&gt;Am I good at putting on an innocent face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really easy for somebody to make my day a whole lot better. Today in my Creative Writing class, I said something in class and a girl just shouted out, "I loved your dress yesterday by the way. I forgot to tell you, but I still remember it." That was sweet and she's adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. That's all for BEDA. I'm sad to see it end (even though I failed so hard at it). I need to close my laptop or it'll run out of battery. sadtimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYE GUYS! &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4389073231385791718?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4389073231385791718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4389073231385791718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4389073231385791718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4389073231385791718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-day-of-beda.html' title='Last Day of BEDA'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1937587597455148333</id><published>2009-04-29T19:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:19:25.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots of Randomness</title><content type='html'>I just got over Junior Prom which was so much fun! Best time ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it's time to think about Senior Prom. I'm obviously not a senior, but I would love to go to senior prom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan already told me he might ask me. Not only is he a hilarious person, he's my favorite /b/tard in the world. We have fun out meme-ing each other. We also have Rick Rolling competitions. I love us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg also said he might ask me, but Greg makes my brain explode sometimes. We yell at each other in the cafeteria, and it's not a good kind of yelling. But he's also my church buddy who loves Britney Spears and that's hawtt. Oh yeah, he's also my best friend's ex boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*NOTE TO SELF* Turn off realtime sharing while watching Boxxy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure if I could afford senior prom though. It would cost me about $50 for the ticket, then a lot for a dress. However, I found an amazing website with dresses under $100, so that's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend's boyfriend broke up with her, so now I don't have to pretend to hate him. That's a huge relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have fallen in love with Julia Nunes. I never really liked her, but now I do. I feel like I can relate to her songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out Church Boy will be able to make Antioch on Saturday, so that's nice. I can chat him up then. But be warned, if I get pregnant, he probably won't let me get an abortion. Church boys are weird like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now getting to my favorite part of sunburn: the peeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesdays are my Cute Dress Days. All the other days, I have to wear sneakers to school so I can do Phys. Ed. Wednesdays, I have double Physics instead of Phys Ed, so I wear cute outfits. Today I'm wearing one of my favorite dresses and people said they liked it. That made me happy. I'm easy to please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for today. That's almost it for BEDA. I'm gonna go watch my top few layers of skin peel off my back and shoulders. I hope you're having as much fun as I am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1937587597455148333?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1937587597455148333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1937587597455148333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1937587597455148333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1937587597455148333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/lots-of-randomness.html' title='Lots of Randomness'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2323998764292550547</id><published>2009-04-28T22:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T22:36:37.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today needs to leave</title><content type='html'>Today needs to just get out of my sight. It's sucked so hard for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's why I hate today:&lt;br /&gt;- It started off with something annoying and stupid.&lt;br /&gt;- I only got 2 hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;- I went home sick after 3rd period because of allergies.&lt;br /&gt;- My eyes were bloodshot and disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;- Because of the medicine I took, I was out cold for HOURS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my current injuries:&lt;br /&gt;- Black Eye&lt;br /&gt;- Extreme Sunburn (it hurts to move)&lt;br /&gt;- Disgustingly Red Eyes (from allergies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I haven't done a stupid emo teenager blog in a while, so I guess it's time for me to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting over this guy is the hardest thing I've ever had to do because I still love him. Every time I told him that, I was telling the truth. I've never felt that way about a guy before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm left on my own trying to pick up the pieces of what used to be and it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's enough emo-ness. Now for a Julia Nunes quote:&lt;br /&gt;"When I get over you it will be great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truths SON!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2323998764292550547?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2323998764292550547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2323998764292550547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2323998764292550547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2323998764292550547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/today-needs-to-leave.html' title='Today needs to leave'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3141459568194819743</id><published>2009-04-27T21:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T22:33:44.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Prom Pictures</title><content type='html'>Excuse for failing so hard at Dailybooth:&lt;br /&gt;- I went to post prom where I thought I would have internet, but it turns out I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;- I felt like a failure so I didn't post yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;- I have way too much to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be about 90% pictures because of the epicness of my post prom.&lt;br /&gt;I got a black eye. Don't ask. David is a douchebag.&lt;br /&gt;So if you see a huge bruise on my eye, that's the reason. However, we were very good at hiding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's a guide to the people who are in these pictures:&lt;br /&gt;Shafaq- The Pakistani one (who will shoot you in the face if you call her Indian, but we do it anyway)&lt;br /&gt;Wendy- The short little Asian one.&lt;br /&gt;Sally- The slightly taller Asian one.&lt;br /&gt;Emma- The short little white one.&lt;br /&gt;David- Guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs032.snc1/3230_185502245470_668090470_6599079_2815050_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that whore. We have a very sexual relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs032.snc1/3230_185501970470_668090470_6599033_5596895_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I got my black eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs032.snc1/3230_185500360470_668090470_6598935_4217878_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, it's a boat and I'm driving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164883605640_1334371075_30929561_7304046_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music by the campfire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164883285632_1334371075_30929553_734940_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about why, just know that we're amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164863645141_1334371075_30929409_4716772_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shafaq and I are the best poker players in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164832044351_1334371075_30928983_2441139_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's our trio and our dates at pre-prom in front of the sexy tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs014.snc1/2957_1133413571493_1111895153_377641_7018051_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're just one big pile of sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164864245156_1334371075_30929424_2336985_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is some time about an hour before we drunk dialed people, namely the funniest guy in the honors classes. "STRUUUUUUU"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs032.snc1/3230_185502035470_668090470_6599043_7687424_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think they built the fort right before the drunk dialing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs011.snc1/2905_1164875205430_1334371075_30929510_103786_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boat broke down in the middle of the lake and we had to get a tow from Sexy Boat Man. He was hot and he saved our lives. Boy was he hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Post Prom was so much fun, besides the fact that we didn't have any internet.  Also, my best friend is dating a guy I hate and I have to pretend to like him for her sake. He's the one who gave me the black eye.  He was at my house all weekend and it sucked. But overall, it was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have this crazy sunburn that's killing me more than any sunburn has ever in my life. I can't move. I can't wear a shirt. I'm in so much pain. IT FUCKING HURTS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3141459568194819743?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3141459568194819743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3141459568194819743' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3141459568194819743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3141459568194819743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/post-prom-pictures.html' title='Post Prom Pictures'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5553674468040058911</id><published>2009-04-24T11:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T12:16:23.909-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Prom</title><content type='html'>I know I didn't post a blog yesterday and that fails the whole BEDA thing, but:&lt;br /&gt;1. I already failed, so I don't give a shit.&lt;br /&gt;2. Yesterday was prom and I didn't have time to write a thorough explanation of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's my blog for yesterday. One for today will be up later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what happened on the most amazing day ever:&lt;br /&gt;- I went home from school at 12:20 to get ready.&lt;br /&gt;- I got my date's boutonniere for my date and it was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;- Doing my hair took over an hour and it was scary. I didn't think I'd be done on time.&lt;br /&gt;- My date came and as soon as I opened the door, he said, "Oh my God you're beautiful!"&lt;br /&gt;- We took a thousand pictures. At least a thousand.&lt;br /&gt;- My mom took 90 pictures of just me.&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny and I left my house to go to Marshall's house.&lt;br /&gt;- oh my god Marshall's house is huge.&lt;br /&gt;- We took a thousand pictures with the entire group.&lt;br /&gt;- Shafaq's date came in green. Shafaq was wearing a white dress. We laughed at him.&lt;br /&gt;- Shafaq's date was a hottie.&lt;br /&gt;- Shafaq fell in love with my date and he fell in love with her.&lt;br /&gt;- We went to the high school parking lot to get ready for the buses.&lt;br /&gt;- I saw a thousand people and took pictures with some of them.&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny ran around saying hi to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Side Story Time** People were really mad at my date. The guys in the play had a tradition of making a list of the hottest girls in the play.  They always swore they wouldn't tell any of the girls. My date didn't participate in this rating and felt he was wrong. But when the girls pressured him into finding out their numbers, my date ended up telling one of them. Everybody got super mad at him, especially one guy Dolapo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolapo is our class president (DALAP-O-BAMA). He got a 2400 on the SATs. He's pretty much the only black guy in the entire school. He's big. He's smart. Everybody loves him. When he gets mad, you don't want to cross him. My date got him mad. Dolapo was telling me that he was gonna confront my date about it. I was scared shitless. I didn't want my prom to be ruined.  But when we were in the parking lot, Dolapo went up to my date like he was gonna kill him, then shook his hand and said, "You're safe for tonight. I'll kill you some other time." So that was nice. Anyway, continuing with what happened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- We had to walk outside in front of a lot of parents with cameras. I felt like Britney Spears.&lt;br /&gt;- I barely managed to walk in my 4" heels.&lt;br /&gt;- We got on the bus, but we were the last ones so we didn't get seats with our friends.&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny and I talked the whole time on the bus and I fell even more in love with him.&lt;br /&gt;- There was a guy on the bus who was 20 years old and you could tell he thought he was the shit.&lt;br /&gt;- We finally got there and it was such a beautiful place.&lt;br /&gt;- There were nachos at the cocktail hour and I ate so many of them.&lt;br /&gt;- I went to the bathroom to re-tape my dress and the Shafucker went with me.&lt;br /&gt;- Cocktail hour was finally over and we got to go dance!&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny and I are the most adorable people ever.&lt;br /&gt;- Shafaq's date Nat was the cutest dancer. He was just doing his own thing.&lt;br /&gt;- Emma and David were cute and it was weird.&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny and I watched other people make out on the dance floor.&lt;br /&gt;- I talked to my French teacher because I love that woman.&lt;br /&gt;- I watched my French teacher dance like she was at the "discotech"&lt;br /&gt;- The prom song was "All or Nothing" which is shit.&lt;br /&gt;- I went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm home. We're leaving for post prom at my lake house at 3:00 and I'm sure that'll be a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I love Shafaq. She's amazing. She doesn't know how amazing she is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5553674468040058911?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5553674468040058911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5553674468040058911' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5553674468040058911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5553674468040058911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-prom.html' title='My Prom'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4207136767507040420</id><published>2009-04-22T19:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:44:56.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day Before Prom</title><content type='html'>My prom is tomorrow and that's all I can think about. I have a boring prom related story, but some background information is necessary to understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN- I love Ben, but I hate him at the same time. He's such a dick, but in the funniest way possible. One time, he said to me, "Hey Tara, can I see your flash drive?" so I gave it to him. He threw it across the room. No clue why he did it and it was such a dick move, but it was so funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another time, I was editing a video for the TV show and I wanted to get his opinion on it. I called him into my editing suite to see it. He was eating a piece of pizza at the time, which is not important except to understand that everything he was saying was with a full mouth. He then proceeded to watch my video yelling, "GAY! GAY! CUT FASTER! FASTER! FASTER! GAY! GAY! GAY" repeatedly. When it was done, he was like, "Nah, I actually liked it. It was good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben and I are also pretty good friends. We study for Pre Calc together during AM Wired.  He also feels the same way about me that I feel about him. He just got a new phone this week and I asked if I could see it. He said, "You're the last person I would ever want anywhere near my phone!" So instead, he made me just say my number to him. Loser. To be fair, I would've done some shit to his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last year I was in the same Digital Imaging class as Ben. He sat right next to me. Every time I would do a project, he would do some hacker moves and get onto my computer, copy my files, change the color, and submit the exact same thing to the teacher. Of course the teacher noticed it, but it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's Ben. Ben also invited this girl to the prom because she's a whore and he wanted to get laid. Well today he realized that she's not really into him and she'll probably end up hooking up with some guy in the bathroom at prom.  I had the job of comforting him, which is hard when that's probably the truth. But I told Ben that if his prom date runs off with some other guy, I'll fill in because my date is gay and doesn't really care. By the way, that wasn't like, "Oh, my date is so gay." No, my date is a boy who likes boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I always talk about the TV Studio or my edit suite. Well, here's my edit suite, A1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=My_Edit_Suite.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 422px; height: 315px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/My_Edit_Suite.jpg" alt="Edit Suite A1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that place. I sit at that computer for hours editing videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm putting pictures, here's something I saw on the YouTubez that I thought was funny:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=MusicFromBritneySpears.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 419px; height: 267px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/MusicFromBritneySpears.jpg" alt="MusicFromBritneySpears" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two favorite artists in the world jammed into one! I think they should do some type of duet. That would be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think after prom I might cut my hair to look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=HairCut.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/HairCut.jpg" alt="Hair Cut?" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though most people so far have said they don't like it. I want something different. Plus, I'm not very confident in my appearance and I'm not a big fan of my face. I got my side bang to cover up part of my face. These bangs would cover it up more. I like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my nails done today and they're hot pink. I'm so excited. I'm ready for prom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I want to take a little bit of something from somebody else's blog. It's from Kayley's (owlssayhoot i think)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does anyone else have people that they just genuinely interested in? Like, not in a romantic or sexual way. But people who just care about, friends even, or maybe people you sort of know but not really…I dunno. I have three or four people who I just like to hear from in some form. Not in a stalkerish way at all, I just want to know what is going on in their lives. It’s weird. Sometimes I’ll just like, watch a video made by them and be like “yeah, I really like her/him,” then move on with my day. Just little like, check-ups on them. Is that weird? I’m describing it oddly. But yeah, I was just thinking about that. Haha. Wow, this was probably creeper status. Whatever, nevermind! xD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do this thing where I get obsessed with people.  If I meet a new person and start talking to them, I want to talk to them ALL THE TIME! There are so many new things to learn and to talk about. Conversations can go on for hours and there are always surprises in the conversations.  I love talking to people when the conversations are like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real test of our friendship is how long it lasts. I've had so many friends of whom I got bored after a couple months. It's not like I ditched them or was mean to them, our conversations just stopped being interesting.  It's like a relationship. The first couple months are new and exciting and adventurous. Then there are the boring months. The true test of that relationship is if you can still be entertained and enjoy the company of the person when you're in the "boring" months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can name a bunch of people with whom I'm in the "new relationship phase" right now. It's sad knowing I'm like this because I know I probably won't have much to do with these people in a couple months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to play my guitar, but I can't. I'll ruin my nails. I hate being girly! This is why I don't do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend is currently dating a guy I hate. I really dislike him a lot. Think of your friend dating Dr. House. You may be thinking, "I love House! He's so cool!" but seriously, think about how terrible he is. He's constantly putting people down and not caring about other peoples feelings. Worst of all, my friend keeps telling me to be nice to him. I haven't been nice to him since 8th grade (when I was madly in love with him, but that's another story). I don't like him and I don't want to pretend to like him for her sake. She's lucky he's invited to my house after prom. I'm really dreading having him there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a conversation I had in text with my friend regarding her boyfriend:&lt;br /&gt;Emma: ... and try to be nice to him i really really care about him&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'll try, but it's hard&lt;br /&gt;Emma: Hes my boyfriend! Lol&lt;br /&gt;Me: But I haven't liked him for years! You know that!&lt;br /&gt;Emma: But he's gotten nicer this year... and he's absolutely adorable to me&lt;br /&gt;Me: But he's not in any way nice or adorable to me. I'll put up with him for your sake though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just frustrated that I have to put on a nice face and not hate him for her. I know it's the friendly thing to do, but she knows how I feel about him. She knows what a dick he is. Here's something he actually did:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl in our school passed away of leukemia last year. She was the most popular girl in the school. She played 3 varsity sports as a sophomore. She was beautiful. Everybody in the school knew how nice she was and was really upset about it. The day after everybody found out, a boy in our grade was walking down the hall and for some reason he was smiling. My friends new boyfriend yelled down the hall so everybody could hear, "Hey Eric, are you always this cheery when somebody kicks the bucket?" How disrespectful can you get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like this guy and I don't want to have to pretend to like him. Does that make me a terrible friend? I hope not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4207136767507040420?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4207136767507040420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4207136767507040420' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4207136767507040420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4207136767507040420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/day-before-prom.html' title='The Day Before Prom'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2502879938474370037</id><published>2009-04-21T22:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T22:59:11.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PROM!</title><content type='html'>There are only 2 days until prom! I'm going with the most awesome person in the world. He hugs me more than anybody has ever hugged me in my life, and that includes my mother. Usually, I don't start conversations with, "I'm taking a freshman to prom!" because people think I'm a pedophile or a loser who couldn't get a date. Incorrect (well, at least half incorrect).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time when people were asking other people, I didn't want to go with any guys I knew. I wanted to go with my gay best friend. Then, the decision was mainly just so I could have a confirmed date and if anybody asked me, I wouldn't have to be mean. I could easily say, "Sorry, I already have a date."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm so glad I'm going to prom with Johnny:&lt;br /&gt;- When he texts me, he says things like, "Hey dear..." or "What's up, love?" and I think that's so cute.&lt;br /&gt;- He tells all his friends about me.&lt;br /&gt;- He called me up just to tell me about the shoes he got.&lt;br /&gt;- He suggested a "POP" of color in our outfits.&lt;br /&gt;- He was fine with hot pink being that "POP".&lt;br /&gt;- He's so excited to go to prom, unlike all my friends' dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was producing the morning TV show at my school. I was asking a girl how to spell her name for the credits. She stopped me and said, "Wait, are you Tara?" I said yes. She said, "I'm friends with Johnny! You're going to prom with him, aren't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm a celebrity for going to prom with him. Everybody knows him and everybody loves him.  I told somebody else he was my prom date and she flipped out. She got so excited and went straight to him to tell him how excited she was.  Johnny and I will be the cutest people there FO SHO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post prom is a go. We have enough drivers (thank God) and it's gonna be a big party. I'm so excited about it! I know this is all I ever talk about, but I've waited forever for this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And regarding my prom dress- I made it fit. There's heavy duty tape involved and I'm still afraid it'll fall off, but that's okay. My date's gay. He won't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have a lot of school work to do.  I have to read 2 books to write an essay that's due Friday. However, Thursday is prom and I won't be in school on Friday, so it's really due tomorrow. Not gonna happen. I'll probably go to school on Friday just to drop it off, then leave. I hate assignments when I'm trying to look pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get my hair cut after prom. Not right after prom, but at some point after prom. I want bangs (or a fringe for you foreign folks) straight across. I think it'll cover up enough of my face so that I'm not too self-conscious. I find that the less people can see my face, the more confident I am with my appearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boobs hurt from taping them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today hasn't really been an interesting day. I ran all around town looking for stuff for Prom and post prom. I had to buy a flower for my date and a ribbon for my hair. My mom had to buy food to make her super amazing lasagna. Then I went home, took a nap, ate dinner, and watched American Idol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with Kris Allen and Adam Lambert. They both gave me chills when they sang. They're also beautiful men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it. It's my shortest blog in a long time. I just have nothing to say today. I'll be here again tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2502879938474370037?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2502879938474370037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2502879938474370037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2502879938474370037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2502879938474370037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/prom.html' title='PROM!'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4429495612677673633</id><published>2009-04-20T22:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:05:48.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dad's Watching Hannah Montana</title><content type='html'>The title has nothing to do with what I'm gonna say, but I can hear him watching it in the room next to me. I'm a little creeped out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I wanted to share my daily process with this BEDA thing.&lt;br /&gt;-When I'm going through my day, I think of lots of things I should mention. Maybe I should talk about. If they're really important, I write them on my hand.&lt;br /&gt;-I get home at around 3:00 and think, "I could write a blog now, but what would be the point? I"m not even done with my day yet!"&lt;br /&gt;- At 10:30 I realize I haven't written my blog or started my homework yet, so I think, "Well the blog has to be done by midnight. The homework doesn't have to be done until tomorrow. I think I'll blog first."&lt;br /&gt;- I don't remember anything I had thought about during the day and just spit out the first things that come to mind.&lt;br /&gt;- Usually, I mention the most recent events in my lives. For example, I was just talking to Minish, so I'll mention Minish. I also went back and read my chats with some people and got all nostalgic. That will probably be included somewhere in here.&lt;br /&gt;- I just don't stop typing. When I think I'm done, I type, "I think that's it." and then I remember something else. It's a terrible circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently eating an orange. This only means something to maybe 2 people reading this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot the step in my process where I get distracted. I always seem to have at least 5 tabs open and I'll look up and be like, "Oh, I have 11 things in Google Reader. Maybe I should just go read a couple..." then I'm gone for 10 minutes. I think this helps the thought process. Either that or it's just me having the shortest attention span ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the pert of the blog when I seem crazy, then try to justify why I am, in fact, not crazy. Let's start with a statement: Sometimes I forget to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may  be thinking, "Tara, how is it even possible for you to forget to eat? Surely hunger is a natural reminder."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well yes, I get hungry, but when most people would be like, "I'm hungry. I'll go get food." I think, "I'm hungry. I could either get up and get food or watch some videos on YouTube to try to distract myself from my hunger." I choose the lazier option and end up not eating. That's how I missed dinner today.  This is bad when you're trying to gain weight to fit into a prom dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I was eating an orange (yeah, I finished it. it wasn't that great). I hadn't eaten anything since 1:30 when I had lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORY TIME&lt;br /&gt;This is Shafaq:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 432px; height: 324px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/46/2/1334370976/n1334370976_30829715_2724.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That also happens to be one of my favorite pictures ever taken. It pretty much sums up our friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dragged her to that football game. I made her stand with me in the pouring rain. I forced her to take that picture. And she still loves me. It's a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shafaq and I first became good friends in 10th grade. We were sitting at the same lunch table and I happened to quote sXephil, as you do. I expected to just quote him and have nobody know what I was talking about. However, Shafaq is special and she did. It turns out she watched sXephil too. I then found out she was a fan of Jimmy0010. I feel in love with Shafaq that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would always talk about VLR while we were doing chemistry labs. I'm sure I was the worst lab partner ever because I would spill hydrochloric acid on her foot (oops) and break test tubes, but she didn't mind. I would always go into school and be like, "DID YOU HEAR VLR YET?!" and she would be like, "No." and I would be like, "I can't speak to you until you do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then forced her to watch the sexiest guy on the planet's videos (oh yeah, I will have to use epithets for him. His name is Taboo like Voldemort). She agreed that he's the sexiest guy on the planet.  She told me to subscribe to PJ. I called her a slut. She told me to get my shit together. We love each other like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need the friend who I can vent to about a boy and when I'm done, she can just say, "Dude, just fuck him." I need the friend who I can high 5 for the dumbest (but really, most necessary things). Here's a conversation we had today:&lt;br /&gt;Me- I don't think he was fucking that girl.&lt;br /&gt;Her- NICE! *high 5*&lt;br /&gt;I love Shafaq for that moment. I also love her for every other moment in my life. We're gonna make sweet love at post prom and it'll be hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of lesbian love, I think I've fallen in love with Taylor Swift. I was watching the making of one of her videos and she's actually a really sweet girl. She seems so cute and amazing and I can really relate to her songs. She doesn't sing about, "I love you so much. Let's get married. You're my Romeo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, one song was like that, but most of them aren't. Most of them are like, "You're a bastard and I don't see why I liked you." or "You're a cheater and I can't forgive you." I think she needs to be my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to rape Steven because he hasn't gotten his dailyboothlovers picture up yet and it's almost 11. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite song of the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYDDiqhhzbQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYDDiqhhzbQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love songs I can relate to. It makes me feel like some day, my pathetic life can turn into a brilliant song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is your mouth supposed to burn after you eat an orange? No? I didn't think so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends asked me to recommend a book for her senior project. She hates reading. She hates education. She's pretty much just a horrible student. I recommended for her to read Looking for Alaska by John Green. First, she read Katherines and loved it. Then, because she couldn't think of a good project associated with Katherines, she started to read Alaska. She can't put it down. I feel so proud that I actually made somebody read! I should probably do some of that myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to read 2 books for an essay. One is a Hawthorne book that's about 200 pages. The other one is a nonfiction book about Commons in American society called Children of the Counterculture.  I really don't want to read either one. It'll take way more time than I have. The bad thing is that I have to read them or I'll fail English. Although I managed to get a B+ without doing much work...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I REMEMBER THE MAIN THING I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT!&lt;br /&gt;I went to my guidance office to talk about my potential colleges today.  I found out that my GPA will probably be well over 3.8 and my SATs will be around 2100.  I'm super excited about that (if I can actually keep them up) because I didn't think I was doing that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she did the search, a list of colleges came up that I thought were way out of my reach. It came up with Columbia and Yale. She told me she wanted me to apply there because there's a very high chance I'll get accepted. I have remarkable community service (Youth Group FTW) and have a unique personality that's well suited for interviews.  While it would be nice to apply there, I don't think I'll get in. I want to go to NYU or Emerson or Quinnipiac or Penn State or somewhere like that, not Columbia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out that when they re-weight the GPAs, mine will be higher than it actually is. They factor in electives and Gym class. I get As in all of those. They're my joke classes. I think I may be better off for college than I originally thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got my PSAT booklet back and saw that I'm a huge idiot. I messed up verbs. Who messes up verbs? UGH I hated myself for that. And the only reason I got a 75 instead of an 80 on the Math portion was because it asked for the ration of a:c and I gave the ration of c:a. So the answer should've been 2/15 but I put 15/2. That was the only thing I got wrong and it brought me down 5 points. Damn PSATs making me feel stupid. I'm hoping for an 800 on the math portion (not to sound arrogant or anything).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the things I have to do tonight. If I don't get them all done, I'll fail at life:&lt;br /&gt;- Write my US Thesis paper (which I haven't even started researching)&lt;br /&gt;- Study for my French vocab test tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;- Finish my PreCalc take-home test&lt;br /&gt;- Pick an episode of Friends I like.&lt;br /&gt;- Read at least SOME of Children of the Counterculture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that might actually be all I have to say today. I used to think this BEDA stuff was so easy. I would talk about my day and never shut up. I even had some things to say that I had been thinking about for a while. I let out a couple rants. But now I think those rants are bitchy to do.  I think my days are boring. I've run out of unique thoughts. It's becoming a challenge and I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've decided not to apologize for the length of my posts anymore. I'm really mainly doing this for myself. When I go back and look at this month, it'll be exciting to read every detail about every day. I've been going through a little bit of an emotional roller-coaster this month and I'm sure that won't change soon. Prom is on Thursday, so that still needs to be dealt with. I'm gonna love reading about how crazy I was. I even look forward to the time when I forget who I was talking about when I wasn't using names. I want to make my posts as long as possible for myself and I'm sorry if that offends you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4429495612677673633?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4429495612677673633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4429495612677673633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4429495612677673633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4429495612677673633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-dads-watching-hannah-montana.html' title='My Dad&apos;s Watching Hannah Montana'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6254703949515470556</id><published>2009-04-19T21:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T22:22:11.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>oh hai thurr, im tara</title><content type='html'>I realized that my BEDA buddies probably don't know anything about me at all. They're just reading the random blog posts of a psychotic stranger. So, here are some things about me I feel you should know:&lt;br /&gt;- I love Britney Spears more than the average person.  I have almost Chris Crocker levels of love for her.&lt;br /&gt;- I also have almost that much love for Ellen DeGeneres.&lt;br /&gt;- I like Church. Jesus is my homeboy. I'm there a lot.&lt;br /&gt;- I'm obsessed with school. I freak out over grades and all that fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;- I like television production and hope to go into that as a career.&lt;br /&gt;- I love the internet. Here are some websites I have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dailybooth.com/TGal227"&gt;Dailybooth&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/TGal227"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/TGal227"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I did today:&lt;br /&gt;- My mom woke me up at 8:30 and was like, "Tara, we have a problem." She leads me to the basement where there's water flowing out of a pipe. So we called the plumber, packed up, and left the lake house.&lt;br /&gt;- I drank hot chocolate on the ride home. That may not be exciting for you to hear, but it was exciting for me at the time.&lt;br /&gt;- Once I got home, I hugged the glorious, reasonably speedy internet.&lt;br /&gt;- I thought "Hmm, I should probably read the book I have to write an essay on." then didn't.&lt;br /&gt;- I had a wonderful skype call with Reese and some of the people from the Ning. Everybody seemed really nice, but then my internet made everything choppy, so I restarted my computer.&lt;br /&gt;- Upon booting my computer up again, I had no internet. I tried to fix this, but failed. Instead, I watched SNL. It was funny! (TAKE THAT MINISH YOU FOOL)&lt;br /&gt;- I cut my hair.&lt;br /&gt;- I went to Youth Group where we had Chinese Food and Pajama night. Twas fun.&lt;br /&gt;- CB was his usually perfect self, although he did insult Barack Obama's spending plans. Why does he have to be a Republican?&lt;br /&gt;- I got home and wrote this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I Love Steven (aka StevenExists):&lt;br /&gt;Steven and I haven't talked in a while. When I say a while, I mean probably about 5 days. But we used to talk every day with the StickFam and it was beautiful. So I had a crazy idea and without any introduction or "hello", I sent him this on skype:&lt;br /&gt;"STEVEN HERE'S WHAT MUST HAPPEN&lt;br /&gt;We must create an account on dailybooth called "dailyboothlovers" instead of "vloglovers". We take pictures every other day of us being a couple who hates each other. DO IT WITH ME!"&lt;br /&gt;Most people would be like, "Oh dear, I have to avoid this girl forever." Steven was like:&lt;br /&gt;[11:31:34 AM] Steven says: LMAO&lt;br /&gt;[11:31:35 AM] Steven says: win&lt;br /&gt;SO EVERYBODY! &lt;a href="http://dailybooth.com/dailyboothlovers"&gt;http://dailybooth.com/dailyboothlovers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Steven is just generally amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm talking about amazing people, I'll talk about Minish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Minish. Wanna hear something interesting? I had always seen Minish's comments around YouTube and seen him modding up Dave's BlogTV. I thought he was one of those UK YouTubers who went to all the gatherings and was really good friends with them. He was hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then MiniDave added him into the chat on Skype and said he wanted to get into the community. I was thinking, "Hmm, that's weird. I thought he was already a part of that group." But I'm a fangirler. I fangirl over everything. I was fangirling Minish a little bit on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the first thing we ever talked about was my Britney Spears essay (which my teacher is now getting published *gulp*). We were joking around about a Hitler essay. I felt very happy that he actually liked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the backstory. I have this weird thing where I remember everything. If you ask me about the first time I ever talked to you or met you, I promise I'll remember.  It often comes off as creepy, so I pretend I don't remember. But I remember that MiniDave was eating a spoonful of cinnamon, Rory was in Borzoi's live and had sexy pink writing, Davey tried to draw America and put New York somewhere near the middle, Anders streamed the YouStage finale to me, Steven wouldn't talk EVER (lulz), and Pav was playing with a caterpillar. (creepy enough? okay, good)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love talking to Minish because I think he understands me. We're very similar deep down, even though he hates Britney Spears. I think when one of us is upset, the other one understands and that feels good. Most people think I'm crazy or overreacting or thinking too much when I'm upset. Minish understands that I'm normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If everything Minish and I planned goes down, my life would be hilarious (and not only because it would be a '90s sitcom). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are a couple cool people. I enjoy cool people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*RANDOM FACT* John Green is following me on my secret Twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the fact that I use this blog to procrastinate any real work I have to do.  I have to read about 200 pages of a Hawthorne book, do some heavy duty Pre-Calc Honors work, write my US Thesis paper, and write a tiny French essay. However, I simply don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I'll continue writing in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at lunch a couple days ago, my friend was preparing for a trivia show he was doing in his TV class. They had a lot of questions that would seem random to normal people, but are actually all /b/ memes. I got a lot of the questions right and he asked me for help thinking of more. So I helped him. I realized how much I know about /b/.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, he said to me, "You're awesome because you're just like one of the guys, but you have boobs." TAKE THAT MINISH (again) But that wasn't the point. The point is that nobody wants to date "one of the guys". They all seem to want to date the girl who says "EWWW" to all that stuff. But srsly y'all, 2girls1cup was funny. Shock porn is so amazingly hilarious and I feel accomplished when I get through it without cringing. Then I enjoy talking about which one was the worst (BME Pain Olympics by far).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the potential to be girly, but I do that when I'm with my girls. I need to let my /b/ side out when I'm hanging out with the guys. The girls don't understand when I say, "U IZ TROLLIN" (which I do way too often). I think I need to find a guy who appreciates the fact that I'm pretty much a dude. That's what all my friends say to me. They say I'm pretty much a dude just without the penis. To be fair, I think a dude would get beaten up if he liked B. Spears as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to spend way too much time on these blogs. I've been writing this one for about 45 minutes. I can't focus on one thing at a time though, so I took multiple breaks to watch Boxxy and annoy my sister. However, 45 minutes is way more than I have to spare. I'm gonna go DO WORK SON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye guys &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6254703949515470556?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6254703949515470556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6254703949515470556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6254703949515470556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6254703949515470556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-hai-thurr-im-tara.html' title='oh hai thurr, im tara'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3230245839965103246</id><published>2009-04-18T21:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:21:46.148-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BEDA buddies and Lake Fun</title><content type='html'>So I got my BEDA buddies and I'm super excited about it, so HI GUYS! I think Maureen Johnson set people up hoping that eventually, some people who were buddies would get married and have BEDA babies. That's just a theory though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first of all, TJ had these questions for us to answer, so here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Age &amp; Grade&lt;br /&gt;16 in 11th grade (so I'm a junior)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Location (just a state works fine)&lt;br /&gt;New Joisey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Favorite game? (sport, video, board, whatever)&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, I'm a game nut. Here are the sports I enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;Volleyball: I've played it since I was... young. (GO GIBB ROSENTHAL)&lt;br /&gt;Baseball: I watch baseball like it's my job and I played softball for half my life. (GO YANKEES)&lt;br /&gt;Soccer: I played it for over half my life and all the money I have comes from refereeing. Soccer timez were the best timez of my life. (GO VILLA)&lt;br /&gt;Football: Go Patriots! *takes bullet*&lt;br /&gt;Lacrosse: Played it for a couple years back in the day.&lt;br /&gt;Basketball: I hate this sport, but I still played it. (GO... SETON HALL)&lt;br /&gt;Swimming: Yeah, did that. (BOO MICHAEL PHELPS)&lt;br /&gt;So I love sports a lot and I've played a bunch of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Favorite Band/Song/Album?&lt;br /&gt;I'm a big fan of a small band called Blue Skies. You should go check 'em out.&lt;br /&gt;srslynao, it's really hard for me to decide. But I will.&lt;br /&gt;Favorite band is Fall Out Boy (older stuff though, not the new trash)&lt;br /&gt;Favorite singer is Britney Spears (and if I have to give it to a guy, I'd give it to Mika)&lt;br /&gt;Favorite song changes every minute.&lt;br /&gt;Favorite album is Take This To Your Grave from Fall Out Boy (I know every lyric of every song)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Favorite Movie? (I don't really have one but answer if you want.)&lt;br /&gt;Probably The Breakfast Club, Benny and Joon, or Pirates of the Caribbean (just the first one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. After school activities?&lt;br /&gt;I feel like this is my college application! But that's alright, I've been building this up my whole high school career:&lt;br /&gt;National Honor Society, Volleyball, TV Show (broadcast to the school and the surrounding towns), French Club (Vice President), National French Honor Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Special skills? (Like Musical instruments and stuff)&lt;br /&gt;I can play the Guitar, Ukulele, piano (a little), and violin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I blog because....&lt;br /&gt;When I type 1000 words about my day, it lets me look back at what I've done. You have no idea how much I've learned about myself from this BEDA thing. I also like to read back on what I've written and see what I was going through and who I was talking about. It's weird looking back at my blogs from over the summer and being like, "Well, that situation worked out nicely."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Future goals?&lt;br /&gt;I would love to work behind the scenes on television, whether that be as an editor, a producer, or a camerawoman.&lt;br /&gt;That being said, my dream job is to work at College Humor.&lt;br /&gt;As far as colleges go, my list that I'm looking at currently includes: NYU, Emerson, Penn State, Boston University, Quinnipiac, and some others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was fun. Now I'm going to go on about my day because it was an exciting one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 8:30. Upon realizing what time it was, I tried to go back to sleep. However, I could not do so because the guy next door is doing construction and it was hella loud. So I went downstairs and ate a third of a crumb cake. Then, I continued cleaning the whole house. It's tiring work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mommy went to the store to buy me a sandwich while I stayed at home and did pretty much nothing. Then I played my guitar for a good 2 hours. I turned on the Yankee game and right away, Texiera hit a homerun putting the Yankees in the lead 2-0.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went upstairs and to the interwebz. About an hour later, I found out that it was still the middle of the inning after I left and the other team had scored 14 runs so far in that inning. I was so furious. The ace from 2 years ago was pitching! That's not only an ERA killer, it's an ego killer! How will he be able to get past that? And why is this the second time that's happened to me? I start watching and they do great. As soon as I stop, they lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only possible solution is that I have to watch every second of every Yankee game. It's the only possible way to fix that situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then my daddy came up for a little while. I drove the boat around the lake and it was so much more fun than I remember! I was going full throttle and going in circles to hit my own wake. And when the boat got loud enough so nobody could hear me, I would yell "I'm on a boat BITCH". Then my mom told me to stop driving like that because she was getting sick.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Jumboland for dinner and I decided it's my favorite place in the world. New Jersey is famous for its diners and Jumboland is the best diner I've been to (I've been to a lot, so trust me). Then we went to get water from a natural spring which is really cool. Water is just constantly flowing from a pipe thing and people all go with jugs to fill with the most amazing water in the world. Then we got gas and I killed a huge bug. It exploded green juice. Then we went to Dale's to pick up firewood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, my dad and I set up the fire pit. We assembled it together, then moved stuff around it. It was a really cute father-daughter bonding experience. I &lt;3 my daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my daddy left to go back home. I went back on the internet. I stayed on the internet. I'm currently on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on twitter, there's this person who's been following me for a while and @replying me. I never even thought to check out their page until today. When I did, I found out they're a 59 year old tranny who followed me because my name is TGal and they think that stands for Tranny-Gal. *FOR THE RECORD* I have nothing against transsexuals. I have a friend who is transsexual. This person just creeped me out.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there were pictures on their twitpic and I looked at them... then I clicked a link on her twitter which led to her website... then from there I clicked a link to her xtube... then I don't even want to mention what I saw. It was disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tweeted something like, "I am a girl. I was born a girl. I like boys." SHE UNFOLLOWED ME!!! BITCH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So (with some advice from Pav) I tweeted "...sexist mother fucker" and I'm still waiting for a response. It was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go back home tomorrow. I don't want to go back home. When I'm up at the lake house, I don't have to worry about anything. I don't do any homework, I don't have to worry about plans with friends, I just hang out by myself. I like spending time alone. But once I go back, all the problems from the real world are there. I don't like those problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I have something to bitch about.  My best friend called me. She's currently dating a guy I liked for 2 years, but I don't like him like that anymore. I found out how big of an asshole he is. So first of all, she calle dme up and talked for hours about how adorable he is and how cute they are when they're together and all that fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So originally, she was our second driver up to the lake for post prom. My mom would take however many would fit in her car and my friend would take the others. Currently, 6 or 7 people are coming up. My mom's car can only hold 6 people. We need a second person to drive. My friend decides to tell me just now that her mom won't let her drive. She wants my mom to squish 4 people into her back seat.&lt;br /&gt;a) My mom's back seat is already squished with 3 people.&lt;br /&gt;b) We'll all have our bags. The bags will already be partially on our laps. Adding another person and another set of bags would be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;c) It's against the law and my mother is a typical mother.&lt;br /&gt;d) My friend said she would drive! It's not right to back out now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so frustrated and I don't know what to do. Even though the post prom is at my house, I don't feel like it should be my responsibility to take care of everybody. It's not like I'm their hostess and I need to entertain them. I shouldn't be the one to figure out rides for everybody. It's just obnoxious to expect both my parents to drive us up here. Nobody has even asked their parents if they can drive one way. It's 50 minutes here an d back, so it's a long drive, but I feel like my friend put us into this situation, she should plan things to get us out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is that she was implying that I encourage my date not to go to the post prom.  He's the one person who's not sure if he can go or not.  If he can't go, there's no driving issue at all. If he can, we have problems.  My friend doesn't know him too well, so she wants me to sortof tell him he shouldn't come. That's totally unfair, especially because her date is going. I hate him with a passion.  I hate seeing them together, too. It's disgusting. If anybody should be "un-invited" it should be him. Plus, I'm sure if he were "un-invited" my friend would make more of an effort to drive up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want Johnny to come so badly, but because he's only 14, his parents may not let him. I love him so much though and it would be amazing to have him here. There's no way I'm encouraging him not to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Johnny Picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2575/129/109/611368732/n611368732_1682698_1774636.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until Prom! I'm so super duper excited! AHHHHH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3230245839965103246?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3230245839965103246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3230245839965103246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3230245839965103246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3230245839965103246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/beda-buddies-and-lake-fun.html' title='BEDA buddies and Lake Fun'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3299977299257452643</id><published>2009-04-17T14:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T21:00:18.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet?</title><content type='html'>So I leave for my lake house in 30 minutes and I still haven't packed or anything.  I'm pretty screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the most interesting thing that happened with my day today was that when I went into my US History class, my teacher brought up YouTube. First of all, whenever we're looking at YouTube in any of my classes, I have the irrational fear that one of my videos will pop up in the search results or the related videos.  But he looked up that amazing lady from Britain's Got Talent. Just last night, I was watching that same video with Minish. It was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But halfway through the video, a big red thing popped up and I yelled out, "Turn off the annotations!" It may not seem awkward, but it was really awkward because everybody just looked at me, then continued watching the video with the annotation still up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really looking forward to going up to my lake house.  I haven't been there since before school started and I miss it.  Plus, I'm driving there for the first time. I'm scared shitless, but that's alright. I'll get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be doing a lot of cleaning though. Lots of cleaning, moving heavy things, and other work I would rather not be doing. That's alright though. It's all for the good of the most awesome post prom ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that I typed this entire post, then didn't submit it. But then I found out... I have internet? What is this?! THIS IS AWESOME! *knocks on wood*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have stuff to bitch about, but I'll save it until tomorrow. I thought this post was finished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3299977299257452643?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3299977299257452643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3299977299257452643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3299977299257452643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3299977299257452643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/internet.html' title='Internet?'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1347792349068986303</id><published>2009-04-16T19:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T21:54:50.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That Thing You Do</title><content type='html'>Today was better than yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up 40 minutes late (this isn't sounding better...) and had to rush to get ready.&lt;br /&gt;I turned on MTV to watch music videos while I was getting ready and just as I turned it on, "If U Seek Amy" started. Britney is so hot.&lt;br /&gt;Right after "If U Seek Amy" ended, "9 in the Afternoon" by Panic! at the Disco came on. I love that song almost as much as I love this video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G2ie3B1a-To&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G2ie3B1a-To&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I left for school at 7:05. My crew position for my morning TV show was Camera 1, so that's usually pretty boring. Except today we did a complicated show, so I had to go from a 2 shot to a medium shot of one person with room for a jumpback on ME1, then switch to a second person with room for the same jumpback without having time to measure it out.  The entire show was mass pandemonium, but we pulled it off in the end.  I love the feeling of a live show.&lt;br /&gt;However, it didn't record. We ran out of room on the tape. So we had to do it again so it could be put on the website. That was a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my US class, I heard some bitch say this, "I hear we'll have to all wear the same color gown at graduation because some dyke last year complained about it."&lt;br /&gt;First of all, that "dyke" happens to be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;Second of all, that "dyke" is a transgender teenager.&lt;br /&gt;Third of all, she didn't complain about it, she simply asked to wear the boys color and they let her.&lt;br /&gt;So I told that bitch off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after school, I had the best conversation ever with Shafaq. I love that skank so much, you have no idea. The conversation is probably only funny if you know both of us, but you don't matter so here are random snippets of it that make no sense:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: The first time I travel out of the country, I'm gonna find some foreign guy and have sex with him. I know i joke all the time about having sex with people, but I'm not joking. I'll totally whore out. I'll fuck so hard, I'll get pregnant... wait, that doesn't work. I'm smarter than that.&lt;br /&gt;Her: Yeah, and if you get pregnant, I'll slap you.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You can slap my pregnant stomach.&lt;br /&gt;Her: It's like a free abortion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: How do you know he's off fucking some other chick? Well, actually, if guys are presented with any willing girl, they'll fuck her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That bitch makes my life happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I'm going up to my lake house. I haven't been there in a while and I'm so excited. I love seeing the lake because it's so beautiful. However, I won't have the internet for 3 days. The only way to get me will be through my cell phone which means:&lt;br /&gt;a) texting me if you have my number&lt;br /&gt;b) direct messaging me on twitter, which then gets sent to my phone and makes me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized that America is very different from England as far as morality in friendships and relationships is concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who wants to see my vice principal?&lt;br /&gt;Here he is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9UdSyzJ_nwI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9UdSyzJ_nwI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I got home from school today, I turned on the Yankee Game. The second pitch I saw was Posada's homerun. Then I fell asleep. I woke up in the top of the 9th and saw how badly the Yankees were losing and changed the channel. I couldn't watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I changed the channel to the movie "That Thing You Do". I just caught the last 20 minutes of it, but that song must be the most addicting song ever.  I can't stop singing it. Whenever I have a song stuck in my head, I learn how to play it on the guitar. The most recent victims of this treatment are The Climb, About You Now, and Mario Kart Love Song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also realized that writing your own music is so much harder than it seems. I know a lot of chords, but I don't know how to put them together so they sound good. I'm also generally terrible at the guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to start putting the things I want less people to know about, but still want to talk about, at the end of my super long posts. That means only the people who &lt;s&gt;stalk&lt;/s&gt; care about me enough will hear about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about doing a series of videos on my other channel (which only a couple people know about and will remain a secret) with my guitar.  I'm really self-conscious about my voice and my guitar playing skills (or lack thereof) which is why I never do anything like that on my YouTube channel.  But I want to make a series of about 5 videos called "The Heartbreak Sessions" of all the songs I've been listening to a lot lately that describe how I've been feeling (Forever and Always, About You Now, That Thing You Do, etc.). I'm not sure if I'm gonna do them though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 2 videos in the making. One is part of a collab where I get to whip out the guitar and play some musykz by my favorite artist ever. Yeah, that's right, Britney Spears. Don't judge me. The other one is a video I recorded for somebody's VEDA. I recorded 20 minutes of me sitting there and being an idiot, so all I need to do now is import it, edit it, and send it to him. However, I'm lazy and I don't feel like doing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time next week, I'll be at my Junior Prom. I promise I'll still get a blog up. FINGERS CROSSED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH And I found out something today that's really weird... It's a story about a girl I've been becoming pretty good friends with lately. You get to hear it. *WARNING EXPLICIT CONTENT*&lt;br /&gt;So this girl was on a date with a guy, one of their first dates. They were going to the movies.  In the car (I'm assuming it was the car. I surely hope it wasn't in the middle of the theater) he said to her, "I'll only pay for your ticket on one condition." He pulled down his pants and said, "Right here, right now." She did it. (use your imagination. I don't feel like explaining.) What kind of whore does that... But I still like her. She's one of the most fascinating people I've ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it until tomorrow. I haven't done any school work all week and it feels like I have way too much free time on my hands. At least now that baseball season is starting, I'll do all my homework during the games. That's 3 hours a day of homework. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason I'm "smart".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of smart (oh yeah, I guess I lied when I said that's it until tomorrow. sorry.) my friend who got a 2400 on the SATs brought his paper into school today. It was so scary to see the MATH- 800 CRITICAL READING- 800 WHATEVERTHATOTHERONEIS- 800. Mine is gonna be like- MATH- 780 CRITICAL READING- 700 THEOTHERONE- 540. Decent enough I guess, but I still wouldn't be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's really it until tomorrow. Bye guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1347792349068986303?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1347792349068986303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1347792349068986303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1347792349068986303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1347792349068986303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/that-thing-you-do.html' title='That Thing You Do'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1269335200771824674</id><published>2009-04-15T21:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T22:42:24.571-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For MiniDave</title><content type='html'>This is for MiniDave because he's my favorite midget in the world (although he's not much of a midget compared to most of my friends). He told me to write this for him, so I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MiniDave's birthday is on April 21st.  He'll be 15 years old. He still won't be legal in the UK, so that sucks for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a surprise for him, but it looks like that's not gonna happen in time for his birthday, so fuck it, I'll say it in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was gonna send MiniDave a present.  I made him a very amazing card, bought him a couple things, and they're all together in my room right now. However, my parents don't love me between January 1st and April 15th, so I couldn't package it or send it out. However, it will be sent out eventually and MiniDave had better still love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like sending things to people. It's fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OTHER NEWS! So today, I talked to James, a really hot and amazingly nice wrestler, about how to put on weight.  He was so nice and so funny about it. So now I know how the professionals gain weight and I'm gonna fit into that prom dress! YEAH! I probably won't end up fitting into it. My life sucks. But at least I had an excuse to talk to James.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I didn't get a 0% on my Pre Calc test; I got a 62%. I was so scared because she walked up to me with the paper and was like, "Ooh, ouch. Ouch." I thought I actually got a 0%. When I saw it was a 62, I was really happy. She sounded so disappointed that I was happy with my grade, but she doesn't understand how worried I was about it. It brought my average from a B+ to a B- though, which I am actually upset about. At least it didn't bring it any lower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while other people were fucking like bunnies, I was too busy being fucked by the school. (psst Andrew, that was my attempt at a witty line. fail.) I got a 14/20 on a French test. That's not good at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched American Idol and WTF with that save?! I feel like they just needed to use it and they figured they would use it then. LOST time nao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy nights on Stickam where there are a lot of people and (this sounds terrible written out, but it's not as bad as it sounds) we all gang up on Andy.  I also like when a lot of people gang up on DaveGX, especially when Darren is there. Sometimes, picking on DaveGX over the same things gets boring. However, Darren is the expert at annoying people and he always keeps it interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So onto something that's not just "Here was my day. I'm an angsty teenage girl. Blah blah blah, boys boys boys, complain complain complain":&lt;br /&gt;When I was in middle school, I was the type of person who would always be like, "I don't understand why people would ever want to copy from somebody else's paper. It's so much easier to just do it yourself." Now, I've become the master of letting other people copy off my work. I'm too paranoid to cheat myself, but I'm always willing to let other people copy my answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a physics class where most of the kids are a year older than me. They all got into college already and they don't care about school. They don't want to do any work, and that's where I come in.  Today in class, I did an entire lab. It took me maybe about 40 minutes to finish. Then, I spent the next 20 minutes watching the lab circulate the class until everybody had the same answers as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When one girl, Sarah, the funniest girl in the world, was copying my lab, she told another girl Natalie that they need a plan to cheat on finals.  Natalie said each person should learn 2 chapters, then we cheat off each other until we have the right answers.  Sarah decided that she had a different plan. Put me in the center of the room and let everybody just look at my paper. I would make the answers big and obvious, then my answers would spread across the room and they don't have to do any work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad thing is, I take this plan as a compliment.  They trust me enough to get their finals grade for them.  They think my answers will be right. And also, as long as I'm not doing the copying, I'm alright with cheating.  They told me that if they get caught, I could be like, "What?! People were copying off my paper?! How cruel of them to betray me like that." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, that class is easy. I'm not worried about making everybody fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was my day. Except for the one aspect of my life that I complain about in every single blog post (which I'm sorry about. It's all I can think about. I'm working on fixing that.) my life is pretty decent. Prom is next Thursday and I'm so super excited for it. I really hope Johnny can go to post prom because that'll make it even better. I'm looking forward to the next week of my life and I love that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;Then, peop&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1269335200771824674?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1269335200771824674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1269335200771824674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1269335200771824674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1269335200771824674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/for-minidave.html' title='For MiniDave'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8208758427644283896</id><published>2009-04-15T00:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T01:04:43.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Description of a Boring Day</title><content type='html'>I understand that it's after midnight, but I can live with that. I just had a 4 hour TV marathon where I caught up on all my TV shows. I watch way too much TV and having time to sit down and watch even more makes me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as if it's my job to educate any non-American people reading this about Adam Lambert.  He'll be the father of my babies, even if I have to rape him. I should stop sounding creepy... But Adam Lambert is my favorite person in the world at the moment.  He's on American Idol and I know that show is usually for talentless aspiring pop singers, but Adam Lambert is in a league of his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too lazy to look up videos for you guys. Search him yourself. Maybe look for Mad World or Satisfaction or Born to be Wild. Actually, just look for anything he sang. Watch yourself fall in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you're done looking up his singing, you can look up pictures of him kissing guys. Such a scandal! But I'm addicted to Adam Lambert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the longest day ever. I had 4 tests to take. I BS'd an English essay and it made no sense, I didn't know any of the information for a US History test, I knew 10 out of 30 vocabulary words for a French test, and I didn't know any information at all for a Pre Calc test. That test completely killed me. I had no clue how to do half the problems. I got messed up on even the simplest things.  I'm so disappointed in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least now that the marking period is over, I have time to focus on prom.  My date is far more adorable than anybody else in the entire world.  He called me up just to talk about his shoes ^_^ If you were wondering, he got saddle shoes. I'm really glad I decided to go with him because I'll have way more fun than if I went with some random guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I mentioned that the Homecoming King requested me on Facebook. Today he talked to me. I have this thing where I get really excited if people of a "higher rank" acknowledge my existence, so that was fun. We talked about what different outfits he could wear to prom.  Last year, he went with the all white tux and a top hat. This year, he wants to do something to top that. We were thinking maybe a short sleeved tux or he could just use body paint to make it look like he's wearing a tux. They're both equally interesting options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it into the National Honor Society! XD XD That made me so happy! Most of the people who make it in have crazy high GPAs. I think it's my service with the church that got me in.  I'm really excited because my parents are proud of me.  If you know anything about my parents, you should know that they never get proud. I got straight As on my report card first marking period and my mom said, "Nice report card, but I think your teacher made a mistake on the comments..." She didn't say anything else about me pwning the school.  But this time, my mom got really excited and told all the people in her office how smart her daughter is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Yankees won again, which is nice. I think this might be their fastest start in a long time.  They usually lose a lot in the beginning of the year, then make up for it after the All-Star break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I'm doing that thing where you try to read 50 books in a year. I'm a little behind now, but I have to read 2 books for an essay next Monday, we're reading a book out loud in English class, and I'm reading The Little Prince in French and English, so that's 5 books right there. So far, here's what I've read:&lt;br /&gt;1. The Bro Code&lt;br /&gt;2. Let It Snow&lt;br /&gt;3. Out of Sync (Lance Bass's autobiography)&lt;br /&gt;4. Looking for Alaska&lt;br /&gt;5. The Awakening&lt;br /&gt;6. Fight Club&lt;br /&gt;7. Bartleby the Scrivner/Billy Budd&lt;br /&gt;8. Girl at Sea&lt;br /&gt;9. The Great Gatsby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm actually gonna do it this year. Last year, I read a total of about 30 the whole year. This year, I'm sure I'll top that. In a week, I'll already be 1/3 of the way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend, I'm going up to my lake house to prepare for post prom.  I'm really excited to get back up there because I love everything about that house.  It's so beautiful.  The only disappointing thing is that I probably won't have internet access.  I know I haven't been keeping up with my dailybooth lately, but I would've loved to take dailybooth pictures up at the lake. Also, I'll probably have to write my blogs in a Word document, then put them in here later.  I'm actually loving this blog every day thing.  I'm sure I'll love it even more when I get to read back on all the boring things I've done over the past month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Tax Day. After tomorrow, I get my parents back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I haven't been signed into Skype at all in the past 2 days.  To be fair, I'm always invisible and I have had a couple conversations, but I haven't actually been on.  I sorta want to see how long I can keep that going. I love the internet and everything, but I hate how much my life depends on it. Being offline just makes it a lot easier to not care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm so glad I check who's following me on twitter.  I noticed that one of my IRL friends started following me.  I don't think I say anything too bad on there, but I just want to keep my two lives separate.  I know that the kid would be the type of person to ask me what I was talking about or make fun of the stuff I say on there and I don't want that. So what I did was I blocked him, then unblocked him. I hope he doesn't go back on twitter and realize he's not following me anymore because if he refollows me, I think I'm gonna block him, unblock him, then make my updates private. I didn't like it when my updates were private.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister texted me to tell me she's dating a guy at her college. I texted her back telling her I'm not stupid and I picked it up when her friend said, "I don't flirt with you because you're with Sean" right in front of me. I told her I didn't question her on it because I figured if she wanted me to know, she would tell me. She told me I that was surprisingly mature and I felt very special.  I'm never surprisingly mature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't feel like going to sleep. I've had a terrible and draining day which has been thoroughly documented in here. But I know that tomorrow, I'll be getting my Pre Calc Honors test back and that will be badtimes.  I hate getting tests back when I know I didn't do well on them. I'm furious at myself for not doing well on that. At least I have lab tomorrow so I don't have to go to gym. It's sad when that's the highlight of my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always feel the need to say bye, so bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8208758427644283896?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8208758427644283896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8208758427644283896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8208758427644283896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8208758427644283896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/long-description-of-boring-day.html' title='Long Description of a Boring Day'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-7629265341321213045</id><published>2009-04-13T21:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T21:24:52.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WORKWORKWORKWORKWORK</title><content type='html'>My mamma told me there'd be days like this, but I'm still not ready when they come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was my first day back in school since April 1st. I missed the 2 days of school before break because of some type of Devil's illness. The last two days are always the Hell Days because all the teachers want to shove their tests into your face before the vacation. I ended up missing a test in almost every subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to take 4 tests tomorrow in subjects I am nowhere near understanding (so if anybody happens to be an expert on Parametric equations, please help me! I'm invisible on Skype, shhhhh). I think this actually almost helps me because I'm too focused on school work to even think about the personal life issues I've been having. (Plus, Jordan from The Great Gatsby helped me with some of those. Thanks, grlll)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much shit to do, I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with this blog. I'm gonna make a list. Lists help me stop freaking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STUFF I NEED TO DO:&lt;br /&gt;1. Write "Le Petit Prince" essay for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;2. Read "Children of the Counterculture".&lt;br /&gt;3. Read "Blithedale Romance"&lt;br /&gt;4. Explain to readers that I'm not stupid, I understand that book titles should be underlined.&lt;br /&gt;5. Go on Wikipedia and copy notes for the Civil Rights unit in US History&lt;br /&gt;6. Learn Parametric equations.&lt;br /&gt;7. Make flashcards for French vocab test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that all gets done, I'm rewarding myself with... reading Looking for Alaska. That sounds like a reasonable prize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to share the thing that was the highlight of my day today:&lt;br /&gt;My friend Shafaq came up to me after school and told me she had a story and that it was a good one. So from her point of view... "Over the Easter break, I went to visit Columbia University.  I told a professor I was accepted into the college so I could sit in on a Spanish class. It went really well and I was sitting next to this Romanian exchange student. So after class he offered to tell me more about why I should go to Columbia. We were sitting on a bench talking, then we started making out. So he took his tongue out of my mouth for a second and I figured that was the perfect time to say, 'I'm still in high school'. He jumped away and just said, 'Damn'. I don't even know his name!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's why I love Shafaq more than anybody else in the world. She can manage to be a complete slutface, but a brilliant one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so super duper excited for prom, y'all have no idea. I just want it to be today. Johnny was calling me and he was really excited about the shoes he got. They're saddle shoes. We're gonna be the most adorable people there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we'll be the most adorable people there if I manage to fit into my dress, however I don't think that's gonna happen.  I keep eating and eating and eating. Today I ate a whole box of macaroni and cheese by myself. But my weight keeps hovering from 97 to 100. Unhealthy. It's disgusting. I feel like I have a reverse eating disorder though. I keep the scale in my room and weigh myself every five seconds. I should ask the wrestlers what they do when they have to put on weight. Not only will that make me fit into my prom dress, it'll give me an excuse to talk to the super hot wrestlers in my TV class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of super hot people, the most popular guy in my school friend requested me on facebook. He's a senior and he was on the football team. Everybody in the world loves him. He was voted Homecoming King. And he wants to be MY friend! I feel so honored. I freaked out to Minish a little bit. I think he understood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the only reason I'm still writing is to put off doing all of the work I have to do. It's not helping me not fail at life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT ONE MORE IMPORTANT THING! One of my good friends Dolapo got a 2400 on the SATs. That's a perfect score. I hate him so much it's not even funny! I know he worked his ass off to get that, but it's still frustrating knowing there's a perfect person in my school! For those people who don't know much about the SATs, here are some figures for you:&lt;br /&gt;600- the score you get if you don't answer a single question.&lt;br /&gt;1600- the average score on the SATs&lt;br /&gt;1990- my projected score from the PSATs&lt;br /&gt;2000- the score my sister got&lt;br /&gt;2100- the score I need to get into the college I want&lt;br /&gt;2400- the number only freaks get to see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now I'm actually gonna do work. I'll see you tomorrow *insert cheesy wink here*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-7629265341321213045?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/7629265341321213045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=7629265341321213045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7629265341321213045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7629265341321213045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/workworkworkworkwork.html' title='WORKWORKWORKWORKWORK'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5574613523729159397</id><published>2009-04-12T20:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T21:14:02.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook Sunday</title><content type='html'>This picture describes my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2682/79/26/612193959/n612193959_1542002_7199252.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're there with the EASTER BUNNY!&lt;br /&gt;Those are my Church Peepz and I adore them. Matt (all the way on the far left) was the one who thought of taking that picture and buying the shot glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Minish last night and we had the sexiest conversation ever. We're now having another sexy conversation. Our lives are filled with sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have school tomorrow. I'm not happy about that at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back on Facebook today and it made my life complete. I've been watching videos from my Rainbow Retreat all day and I remembered how amazing it was. My "I Love Britney Spears" skit got recorded and it was fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I need to work on having courage. I got all worked up to do something big and brave today, then I just failed. I wanted to be like, "GRRRR MEAN TARA" but I don't have that in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a really short post, but I can't think of anything else to say. The Yankees lost today and that makes me sad. My mom gave me $20 for Easter. The priest who said mass sounded like he was Jewish. My Grandma Schizzaz is the shit. That's about it. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5574613523729159397?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5574613523729159397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5574613523729159397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5574613523729159397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5574613523729159397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/facebook-sunday.html' title='Facebook Sunday'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1363822538603291952</id><published>2009-04-11T22:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T23:04:30.808-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hannah Montana!!!</title><content type='html'>THIS IS THE SERIOUS BUSINESS PORTION OF THE BLOG&lt;br /&gt;Today, I felt shitty. I needed to rant to somebody, so I tweeted, "Is there any non biased third party online to whom I can rant?" Four people responded. It made me feel so great that people actually cared. And it was amazing because my problems were guy problems and all 4 people were guys. I like getting that perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ranted the same rant 4 times. I think it got better and better each time. I realized why I was so upset and became better at verbalizing it. The best thing is that I got 4 completely different words of wisdom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got 1, "You're better than him", 1 "He's an ass! Hate him!", 1 "Don't hate him. Don't be too upset. Talk to him", and 1 "I know what you're going through. I'm going through the same thing and it sucks". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll take Advice Number 3, but I need to work up the guts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Miley Cyrus has inspired me to write a couple songs about it. Hopefully they won't be as shitty as her music, but they will be as catchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS THE NOT SERIOUS BUSINESS PORTION OF THE BLOG&lt;br /&gt;So today I went to see the Hannah Montana movie with my sisters. I wouldn't have gone, but my mom was paying and it was a free movie, so I figured, "Hey, what the hell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I got to the theater, I saw a group of about 20 girls, maybe 11 years old, all wearing rich, designer clothes and with expensive cell phones. They were all texting (probably each other) and talking in the most annoying way possible. I hate kids like that. When we actually got into the theater, it only got worse. They took the seats we wanted. They got up in front of the screen during the previews and started doing the "Hoedown Dance". They sang. They acted like brats. I laughed at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the movie started and I have to say, I enjoyed it. It was completely ridiculous. There were scenes that pissed me off so much because of how completely stupid they were. But I was sitting next to my older sister and we complained to each other.  We also talked about how hot Billy Ray is and how the "Hot Guy" in the movie (his name doesn't really matter) looked like Jeremy from Little People Big World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually laughed once. It was a funny moment, so I laughed. Then, I just laughed at the stupidity. Miley started crying and I started cracking up. Then, when the "Hoedown" part came on, those little brats actually went up and started dancing to it! My sister and I laughed so hard at them, I think they heard it! Then the movie ended (I hated the ending) and I realized I didn't want it to be over. I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm loving BEDA. It makes me write a lot and I enjoy writing. I also enjoy realizing that I say "so" way too often and need to stop that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1363822538603291952?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1363822538603291952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1363822538603291952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1363822538603291952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1363822538603291952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/hannah-montana.html' title='Hannah Montana!!!'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4205103527906127652</id><published>2009-04-10T23:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T23:56:46.369-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Friday</title><content type='html'>So here are my options:&lt;br /&gt;a. Write a really quick blog and get it in before 12.&lt;br /&gt;b. Take my time, describe my day, and have it be a little late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going with option b because I had such a great night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been practicing for the Living Stations of the Cross for a couple months now. Today was the performance and it was amazing. I was the reader for the whole thing and old ladies were coming up to me and telling me it was the best they've seen it in a long time. They told me they got chills. The priest stopped me and told me how great we all were. It made me feel really happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had the rehearsal at 10 AM, so I only got a couple hours of sleep. So we went to rehearsal, then we mobbed the mall to buy a gift for the Youth Minister, AnnMarie.  It was me, Rae, Gretchen, Emily, Carly, Kathryn, Greg, and Matt (who's really hot. more on that later). First we went to Bath and Body Works, had a team huddle, then split up throughout the store and found about $70 worth of cute stuff for her. Then, we forced Matt and Greg to go into Victoria's Secret with us to try to find slippers. Fail. Then, Matt decided to go into Spencer's Gifts to try to find something good for her. We found a shot glass that said "I &lt;3 Jesus" on it so we had to get it! Then, we took a picture with the Easter Bunny for her. It was so sexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after the performance, we went to Applebees. This is the highlight of any Stations.  It was so weird because the last time I went to Applebees was after Homecoming. I sat in the same seat as homecoming. Matt sat in the same seat as Kenny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this girl Carly who's the most adorable girl in the world. She's 4'9" and she's so gorgeous. There's this guy Dan who's 5'5" and I decided that they would be the cutest couple in the world. So of course I texted Greg saying "Carly + Dan = SO ADORABLE", and he texted me back "You + Matt?!?!?!?!?! ;)" I wish. Matt is pretty much the hottest guy in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt is half Japanese. I have a thing for half Asian guys I guess. Thinking about it, I'm in love with way too many half Asian guys (and one half black guy cough*derekjeter*cough*).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home, we sang Britney in the car. That and BOYS BOYS BOYS! It was HOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Yankees won. yayyy. Now that baseball season is back, My life will be absorbed with that. It's a good addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was a very Good Friday (see what I did there?). I'm on such a Church high and I love it. But the next time I'm gonna be at Church is next Sunday, so that sucks. It's too far away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, did I ever mention how much I love getting dms like "Just thought I'd tell you, guess who's sleeping in bed with Dave tonight ;)"? Because they get sent to my phone and nobody around me understands my frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey look, it's 11:56. STILL ON TIME! Win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4205103527906127652?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4205103527906127652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4205103527906127652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4205103527906127652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4205103527906127652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-friday.html' title='Good Friday'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4493244648900081574</id><published>2009-04-09T21:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T22:15:05.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know How I Feel About You Now</title><content type='html'>So I woke up, read Hayley's blog, and it reminded me of a song. So I listened to the song. I listened to it over and over and over again and danced to it and realized that the song could pretty much be the story of what I'm feeling right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People know I have bad luck with boys.  That's all I ever talk about.  So change the word "mountain" to "ocean" and it's me (and for you grammar nuts, you also have to change "a" to "an"). And YES! This IS the kind of music I listen to! Nickelodeon pop. It's good music so DON'T JUDGE ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JyFtotnL-gk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JyFtotnL-gk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Miranda, you get me. You understand. Whenever something I have ends, I wish I could go back and change what I did. The worst was when Kenny told me there was just nothing special with us. I wish I could've been less awkward, been more of myself. I refused to tell him my secrets, but maybe if I had opened up, we would be together. Ugh, Kenny is so hot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop thinking like that though. I need to realize that with the current guy I can't get over, there's nothing I could've changed. I did everything right.  I was completely myself. I went above and beyond for him, but everything just wasn't enough.  Maybe once I learn that, I'll feel like less shit about myself. It's not that I'm all "Nobody will ever love me! Wahhh I'm a baby!", it's less dramatic than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just feel like I had the perfect guy. He's so perfect. Usually, after I'm done with a guy, I hate him. But I can't hate this guy. He's still super amazing. He's so perfect and he liked me. It was too good to be true. And now, I feel like I can't find anything better than him. Anybody I'll meet, they'll just be compared to him. It sucks to know that there's nothing better than the guy you can't get over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, this post was not meant to be that angsty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Good Friday. YAY JESUS! *SPOILER ALERT* YOU'RE GONNA DIE! But don't worry, you'll come back. Actually, you'll come back twice: once after you die, then once in the sequel. But the sequel hasn't been made yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I talked to Davey and Rory on Skype and it was amazing. The total time of the call between me and Davey was 3 hours and 30 minutes. It was amazing and I love that old fat man like a brother. A whorish brother who's an idiot sometimes, but still a brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also talked to MiniDave and I realized how much I miss the old chat we used to have. I felt much more connected to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, until tomorrow, BYE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Tomorrow might be late. I'm going to Applebees at some crazy hour of the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4493244648900081574?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4493244648900081574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4493244648900081574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4493244648900081574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4493244648900081574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-know-how-i-feel-about-you-now.html' title='I Know How I Feel About You Now'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-943834771774254041</id><published>2009-04-08T15:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T16:09:18.147-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Day at College</title><content type='html'>So I spent the day at my sister's college and it was SO MUCH FUN! So here's what happened:&lt;br /&gt;- Greg and I got lost twice when we were driving up there.&lt;br /&gt;- Greg played "Guess the Speed" and it was always over 90 mph. He scares me!&lt;br /&gt;- We got to Ramapo and walked on the Rape Trail&lt;br /&gt;- We saw the Random Tree which is pretty much a tree with random things nailed to it.&lt;br /&gt;- We ate dinner at the Pavillion and it was so fantastic!&lt;br /&gt;- My sister yelled, "SKINNY BITCH, EAT THAT FOOD" as motivation for me to fit into my prom dress.&lt;br /&gt;- We did Perler Beads in the lounge.&lt;br /&gt;- Martin came into the lounge and it was very very funny.&lt;br /&gt;- Finn trying to set me up with her brother.&lt;br /&gt;- I met so many people and there were way too many names to remember.&lt;br /&gt;- We ate Late Night at Birch.&lt;br /&gt;- Hung out in Kerry's room.&lt;br /&gt;- Went back to Kayla's room and watched Shakespeare in Love&lt;br /&gt;- Fell asleep &gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ate lunch at the Pavillion and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I was there, I met a guy named Martin.  It took me until the ride home to realize it, but MARTIN IS EXACTLY LIKE THE COLONEL FROM LOOKING FOR ALASKA!!! He's The Jewish Colonel! Just... yeah, this is what Martin is like-&lt;br /&gt;- He's short. 5 foot nothing. (he's actually probably 5'4" or so, but he seemed shorter)&lt;br /&gt;- He has such a huge personality.&lt;br /&gt;- He's the leader of the group.&lt;br /&gt;- He pulls pranks on people (I saw him pull multiple pranks)&lt;br /&gt;- He's so smart! He got accepted into Princeton and NYU.&lt;br /&gt;- He didn't go to one of those schools because of money.&lt;br /&gt;- He complains about people a lot, usually the "Weekend Warrior" types.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The similarities scared me in the most amazing way possible. I swear they were the same person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the College Boys front, the only hot ones were Lance, Pete, and I guess you can consider Martin hot. And then there was a guy at dinner who I thought was the hottest guy ever, then I found out his name is Walker, but his friends call him "Fawkward" because he's fucking awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I found out that Julia Nunes is playing there tomorrow!!! I'm so upset that I can't go! I'm very very upset =( &lt;-- that's my super upset face. And my sister won't even go. There were posters everywhere! It's like they were taunting me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I took this picture with my sister and our friend Greg:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://dailybooth.com/pictures/large/e/7/e7ce0be2286f1922cdb11975236cdb76.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was so much fun! It makes me want to go to college NOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-943834771774254041?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/943834771774254041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=943834771774254041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/943834771774254041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/943834771774254041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-day-at-college.html' title='My Day at College'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4588154218250070745</id><published>2009-04-07T01:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T01:26:33.074-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love England</title><content type='html'>If you're too lazy to read, the answer is a mix of Johnny and Soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[12:12:16 AM] Steven says: Hey tara, i have to go to bed, and i just wanted to let you know that you missed out on chatting with me.&lt;br /&gt;[12:12:21 AM] Steven says: Your life is ruined&lt;br /&gt;[12:12:23 AM] Steven says: :D&lt;br /&gt;[12:12:42 AM] Steven says: ;D&lt;br /&gt;[12:13:24 AM] TGal227 says: Your life is ruined because now you're going to sleep knowing you could've chatted with me.&lt;br /&gt;[12:14:01 AM] Steven says: No you. This is like when girls are all "Can't touch this." and walk away.&lt;br /&gt;[12:14:27 AM] Steven says: Can't touch this, Tara, Can't touch this.&lt;br /&gt;[12:14:37 AM] Steven says: Or, more like, Can't chat this, tara, can't chat this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Steven is trying to seduce me. It's working. I might have to sex him up instead of Bo Burnham at Bamboozle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, did I mention that Steven's 100% going to Bamboozle and I'm about 75% going to Bamboozle. Yeah, it'll be fun. Steven can be my wingman in the Bo Burnham seduction process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing to wear tomorrow. I'm freaking out a little. I still need to pack and clean my room before I go. But G-Tillz is driving me, so he wont' be here until an hour later than he's supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! I'm thinking of taking a picture of my bulletin board and analyzing it some time in the future of this blog. I'm not sure why I needed to mention that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALSO I miss playing soccer. I didn't miss it at all until I was talking about my glory days at dinner. Here are some things that make me wish I played again:&lt;br /&gt;- There was a play where the coach would call out "2! 2!". It meant "Pass the ball to Tara!" That was the only play our team had.&lt;br /&gt;- I was the keeper for an undefeated team XD I was also the youngest player on the team. But I wouldn't be taken out. EVAAHHH&lt;br /&gt;- The goalie clinic I did where we would play 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 3 weeks. I had just gotten my ears pierced and had to take my earrings out, then re-pierce them every night. It says a lot that I was willing to do that.&lt;br /&gt;- I got expensive, matching goalie equipment. It looks HAWTT.&lt;br /&gt;- My dad told me that one time, I scored a goal that they were talking about when he was at the field 3 games later to ref a game.&lt;br /&gt;- Playing up on my sister's team. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;- The header goal. Epic amazingness and possibly the highlight of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish my parents had pushed me to keep playing, but I understand why I stopped. They completely broke me down. I had a combination of English trainers who didn't care that I was young and a keeper who didn't need to run at all, they would push me way too far. They made it so it wasn't fun anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best men I've ever met, my old trainer Glenn, recently went through something terrible where his muscles stopped working and he was in the hospital. He was even in a coma at one point. The worst part was that he lived and breathed for soccer (or "football" because he's from London) but he couldn't play. He's getting better though and it's lovely to see him whenever I get the chance.  Did I mention that he used to be a model? Well, he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was Johnny! I think he might be the reason why I'm obsessed with England.  He had the most amazing accent I had ever heard! And he would sing really cheesy songs in a high pitched voice. And he would call all of us "love" and "dear" and "darling". Johnny was the best trainer I ever had because he was so much fun! And it was fun to get him to say "The airplane is made of aluminum" in an American accent. Miss him. Love him. Want him back. Why do they always have to leave to go back to England? They should just stay so I can run into them at Soccer Circle and they can call me dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I didn't plan on going into that rant. I didn't realize how much I missed them. Anyway, bedtime. l8r g8r&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4588154218250070745?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4588154218250070745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4588154218250070745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4588154218250070745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4588154218250070745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-i-love-england.html' title='Why I Love England'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2546962158225825910</id><published>2009-04-06T22:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:10:09.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Day</title><content type='html'>So today was pretty much the least exciting day ever. I stayed at home and cleaned my room. Then I went to Church wearing my prom heels to break them in. That's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But did anybody see House today? OH MY GOD! I was almost crying. I never cry at TV shows. I was seriously almost in tears. It was probably the best episode since House fired the old people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm going to visit my sister at college with Greg (who's playing JESUS in the Stations thing I'm in). Here's what that means:&lt;br /&gt;1. College Boys (LMAO yeah right)&lt;br /&gt;2. I get to see what it would be like to live in a college, at least for one night.&lt;br /&gt;3. Maybe I'll get lucky and gain some of the Freshman Fifteen I've heard so much about. I NEED TO FIT INTO MY PROM DRESS!!&lt;br /&gt;4. My next blog will be coming early tomorrow morning (because I really don't feel like nerding out on her and going to blog.)&lt;br /&gt;5. I won't be online at all until late Wednesday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get bored, I draw people. Usually I draw celebrities, but lately I've been feeling the urge to draw YouTube people. Is that creepy? I feel like it would be too creepy if I drew a bunch of YouTubers, then had the drawings around my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bye until tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2546962158225825910?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2546962158225825910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2546962158225825910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2546962158225825910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2546962158225825910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/big-day.html' title='Big Day'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1783180993983453456</id><published>2009-04-05T00:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T01:18:57.487-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet Love Blog Part II: End of an Era</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's been an hour since my last blog post. But it's tomorrow right now and I won't have any time tomorrow, so here's the April 5th blog post for BEDA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I could copy and paste my conversation with Q here. It describes so much about how I'm feeling and why I feel like I just need to leave the internet. But I mention too many names and I don't want people hating me. Instead, I'll give myself this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[12:38:02 AM] TGal227 says: I get so frustrated by the internet though. There are amazing people who I love, like you and *name*, and I meet cool new people all the time, like I've been talking to a girl *name* today, but then there are the people who make me feel so terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's how I feel. I love getting the opportunity to talk to people. I fangirl when I find out that John Cox is following me on Twitter (which zomg he is!) and I call my best friend when MusicFromBlueSkies comments on my video (which zomg he did!) and that keeps me excited in the internet. I love being so happy about talking to people I've heard of, or even talking to new people at all. But what I hate is how I can become such great friends with people, then they can hurt me so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so easy to realize when you're being ignored or thrown to the side on the internet.  Maybe they just don't comment on my dailybooth picture like they normally do or they don't @reply a tweet that was directed toward them. Maybe they're online but they don't start a conversation with you. Or maybe you're online and they tweet, "Why isn't anybody online?!" (that wasn't a direct jab at anybody. Don't think it was.) It's so easy to get hurt from so many different directions (YouTube, facebook, twitter, dailybooth, etc.) on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, I randomly ranted to Q. I'm sure it came out of nowhere. I just started talking about the internet and boys and internet boys. I told him about my frustration and desperation and anger. I'm so glad I had Q to vent to because I think that's what I really needed. I didn't have to censor myself to him. It's not like if I were talking to one of my IRL friends and I had to pretend I knew all these people IRL. It's not like I was talking to somebody I couldn't trust and had to leave out all of my huge secrets. I feel like once I tell people the biggest secret I have, the one I hold onto so tightly, I love them so much more and can tell them anything in the world. So far, the only internet people with whom I've shared that secret are Davey and Q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are some share-able snippets of my conversation with qrousaracentos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[12:29:51 AM] qrousaracentos says: If any girl would have a penis, that would be you!&lt;br /&gt;[12:30:19 AM] TGal227 says: Thanks. That makes me feel special.&lt;br /&gt;[12:31:05 AM] qrousaracentos says: Why do you need me to make you feel special? You already ARE!&lt;br /&gt;[12:31:57 AM] TGal227 says: But I need to FEEL special because I don't always think I AM special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[12:41:06 AM] qrousaracentos says: WAIT!!! What Davey are you talking about?&lt;br /&gt;[12:41:21 AM] TGal227 says: daveyboyz&lt;br /&gt;[12:43:31 AM] qrousaracentos says: OMG!!!&lt;br /&gt;[12:43:48 AM] qrousaracentos says: You just compared me to daveyboyz!!! WOOT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[12:46:59 AM] TGal227 says: I tend to go for the stereotypical submissive female role in any relationship situation.&lt;br /&gt;[12:48:27 AM] qrousaracentos says: That doesn't suites you well.&lt;br /&gt;[12:49:07 AM] TGal227 says: I know! I wish I had the guts to slap guys around when I like them like I do when they're just my friend!&lt;br /&gt;[12:49:14 AM] qrousaracentos says: However, sometimes people just folow their own ways. It might be better let a relationship die naturally that try to maintain it artificially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like how brutally honest I am about myself. And I like how excited Q got when I compared him to Davey XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing in our conversation I really wish I could put in here, but I just can't. I know that in the future, I'll be reading this and it would be an amazing quote to have, but sadly it's a public blog which other people can read (not that they'll have read this far anyway. I talk too much.) So Future Tara, go back and read that conversation from Q. You'll realize why you gave this post its title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read all the way through this, comment. I will give you a prize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1783180993983453456?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1783180993983453456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1783180993983453456' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1783180993983453456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1783180993983453456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/internet-love-blog-part-ii-end-of-era.html' title='Internet Love Blog Part II: End of an Era'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-391040537698645799</id><published>2009-04-04T23:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T23:47:04.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Times</title><content type='html'>I just realized I have 17 minutes until I fail BEDA for the second time, so I demanded, "ANDY, WHAT SHOULD I BLOG ABOUT?" and he responded, "You should blog about how I have my foot on my desk right now." No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he said, "You should blog about how much you love being here." No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Pav told me to blog about the zits on Andy's ass. Maybe tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to blog about The Big Bang Theory because it's the best show ever (besides How I Met Your Mother DUH). In a fake fantasy world, I would marry Sheldon. But in a real world, I would marry Leonard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of blog. 14 minutes to spare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-391040537698645799?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/391040537698645799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=391040537698645799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/391040537698645799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/391040537698645799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/fun-times.html' title='Fun Times'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-296057972198950147</id><published>2009-04-03T17:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T18:18:29.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the ULTIMATE playlist</title><content type='html'>So some people know that I lost my iPod about a year ago (the last time I remember seeing it was at my Sweet 16 on June 6th). So for the past year, I've been using an old school CD player or the music that was already on my iTunes. Today, I decided to import all of my old CDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, this task takes forever.  My computer is slow, so it took about 10 minutes for each CD. I have years and years of built up CDs that I needed to import. Actually, I'm still going. I have about 20 CDs left. But while they're importing, iTunes automatically starts playing the CD. So I've listened to the first 3 songs of a bunch of CDs and it reminded me how much I love certain artists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to make a sort of "Soundtrack to my Life" type of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd Grade: Pokerap (I knew every word BIOTCH)&lt;br /&gt;4th Grade: God Bless the USA- Lee Greenwood (year of 9/11)&lt;br /&gt;5th Grade: Good Riddance- Green Day (lol at the cliche song)&lt;br /&gt;6th Grade: Grand Theft Autumn- Fall Out Boy&lt;br /&gt;7th Grade: Suddenly Tragic- cKy (First time I ever moshed XD)&lt;br /&gt;8th Grade: American Idiot- Green Day&lt;br /&gt;9th Grade: Don't Wait- Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;10th Grade: Broken Wings- Mr. Mister&lt;br /&gt;11th Grade: Days Like This- Van Morrison (For reasons nobody can understand)&lt;br /&gt;My Wedding Song: The Way- Clay Aiken&lt;br /&gt;My Faith: Testify to Love- Avalon&lt;br /&gt;My Self-Image: Video- India.Arie&lt;br /&gt;My Education: Chip on my Shoulder- Legally Blonde Soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;My Internet Life: Internet Love Song- Tom Milsom&lt;br /&gt;My Romance: Forever and Always- Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;My Funeral: End of an Era- Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life's been fun and interesting. I only hope my soundtrack does it justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. One of my friends came over to drop off some stuff and she said to me, "Somehow, you manage to look even more amazing when you're completely run down and sick. You'll make an amazing wife some day." I think that's the best compliment I've ever received XD (besides Lexi calling me pretty. That will always win.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-296057972198950147?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/296057972198950147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=296057972198950147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/296057972198950147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/296057972198950147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/ultimate-playlist.html' title='the ULTIMATE playlist'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4584147637272767146</id><published>2009-04-03T07:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T07:49:34.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fail</title><content type='html'>So I already failed BEDA. I have an excuse. I'm sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's pretend it's April 2nd right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was sick. I stayed at home and did thousands (or about 30, you choose) of Sudokus. Then I ate salad. Fun, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I had a list of things I could possibly talk about in these blogs and my sickness caused me to be bitter and in the mood to complain. So, I chose the topic of my WONDERFUL ex-boyfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just start off by saying that I don't get along with them. Probably my fault. But my friends and I have given them all nicknames because we're cool. So let's do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Dealer&lt;br /&gt;He was a drug dealer. He loves to drink. We "went out" for 3 months. We were 13. We broke up because I discovered that we were "going out", not just hanging out as friends. He grew up to get arrested for dealing drugs. Then he went to the alternative school for troubled students. I really know how to pick winners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Abuser&lt;br /&gt;He was the first older guy I met when I went to high school and I was all, "OMG, an older guy likes me!" It turns out he's a major creeper. On our second date, he leaned over and whispered to me, "I don't know what I would ever do without you" so I broke up with him the next day.  But during our relationship, I was in the hospital for my cyst issues. When I wouldn't tell him what was wrong (because it's sorta weird to say to your boyfriend of 2 weeks, "Something on my ovaries popped.") he pushed me against a locker. He also constantly put me down. I don't like him. He's another major winner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The Cheater&lt;br /&gt;This Filipino Dinosaur was so hot. Like, really hot. And he was really smooth. He knew just what to say to make me think he was perfect. Then, he told his friend to tell me that he wanted to break up with me. Sad thing- he was fucking 17 years old. Do it yourself! But he was so cool and so hot and so smooth. And he wasn't a virgin, so I felt all badass. So, when he eventually called me to tell me about our breakup, he said he wasn't ready for a relationship (and he cried on the phone, which is my favorite detail). Then, I found out the real reason he broke up with me was because he was seeing somebody else at the same time and he chose her over me. Ouch. He's such a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The Hot One&lt;br /&gt;We don't talk about him. He was hot. I was being sarcastic when I called all the other ones winners, but he really is a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was a fun way to release all my bitter energy. Just kidding, I still have bitter energy. I'm a bitch when I'm sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan for it to turn into April 3rd later on today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4584147637272767146?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4584147637272767146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4584147637272767146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4584147637272767146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4584147637272767146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/fail.html' title='Fail'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3596691798329322515</id><published>2009-04-01T17:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T17:21:25.601-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BEDA?</title><content type='html'>Yeah sure. Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick. I'm sorry that I cannot provide any form of wit in my altered state. I will also be in a terrible mood. If I wish death upon anybody, I can assure you, I don't actually mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My  parents are at work and put me in charge of making food for my little sister.  I hate them. I hate it. If I wanted children, I'd get myself knocked up. I don't want to have to take care of their children for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't help that I'm trying to sleep and the brat threw a phone at my face. Ugh. She needs to die right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even had something planned to talk about today, but I can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a happy fact to counteract the garbage throughout this entry:&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, CB got to Youth Group and went straight to talk to me. I'm so in there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3596691798329322515?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3596691798329322515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3596691798329322515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3596691798329322515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3596691798329322515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/04/beda.html' title='BEDA?'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1825984348596248680</id><published>2009-03-30T06:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T06:11:45.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood Swing</title><content type='html'>This morning, I woke up feeling like shit. I had the worst dream ever and I woke up feeling like my emotions had been igbitch slapped. I even checked to make sure my dream wasn't true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I heard vibrating. My phone has been missing for a couple days and the last time I saw it, the battery was at the lowest possible. Turns out, my phone has amazing battery life. I found it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started reading the text messages I had gotten (13 new ones. I'm so popular) and I got one from my friend Emily. But first, some terminology-&lt;br /&gt;Mike = Church Boy aka CB(who was showing us how many different kinds of push-ups he can do. It's a lot)&lt;br /&gt;Grace = His girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;Emily and I are always swooning over Mike. So here's the text:&lt;br /&gt;"Hey i no u cant find your phone but im txting you anyway... i was on facebook &amp; being the stalker that i am i was on mikes and he had taken thequiz howw well do u know me &amp; #1 was "who is the love of my life" an dhis gf answered it... me grace cassidy... and i was like nuh-uh me &amp; tara are..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no clue why, but that text made me so happy! It's so true. One day, CB will realize his mistakes and fall madly in love with me. Jesus told me so. (PS Sorry for lying Jesus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a big video planned, but I have to film it this afternoon. I hope everything goes well because I've been planning this video for months now. Well, I haven't really been planning it, I've just been like, "Oh, I'm gonna make that video."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can find some balloons...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1825984348596248680?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1825984348596248680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1825984348596248680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1825984348596248680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1825984348596248680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/mood-swing.html' title='Mood Swing'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3007962921517931368</id><published>2009-03-29T00:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:06:21.587-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends (or lack thereof)</title><content type='html'>I have friend issues. Not issues like, "Oh, I don't have any friends and I'm crying about it." It's different... I'm pretty alright at making friends. I'm the kind of person who will talk to anybody who's willing to talk to me, so I have a bunch of different groups of friends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Asians-&lt;br /&gt;my homegurlzzz with amazing parties and brains, so they teach me how to do stuff. They're very cliquey though and because I'm not Asian, I don't always fit in with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Valedictorians-&lt;br /&gt;They all have 4.7 GPAs, but that's still not good enough to be valedictorian.  I love these people, but they get so caught up in their grades that they can never do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The TV People-&lt;br /&gt;These people hang out with me at the TV studio until 9 at night and it's amazing what goes on.  When there are so many creative people thrown into one room, crazy shit goes down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Druggies/Sluts-&lt;br /&gt;I love these people too and they respect me for not being a huge slut and not drinking/doing drugs at all, but that's all they ever talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Church People-&lt;br /&gt;Love these people to death. See them 4 times a week. Can't say anything bad about them, but we don't hang out outside of church too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Stickfam-&lt;br /&gt;Our group has semi-disbanded, but I usually talk to at least one Stickfam-er every day. For those of you who don't know, these are the American YouTube people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UK YouTubers-&lt;br /&gt;We've split too, but I still talk to people individually all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TheBorzoi's Live People-&lt;br /&gt;The people in that huge Skype chat.  I'm only friends with some of them (and hate others), but the people with whom I'm friends are AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shafuckers-&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't put Shafaq into any other group (except maybe sluts...) but I love her so much that she gets her own group. Only neither of us can ever be bothered to make any plans... We always say that our duo is like VLR, only we're both Jimmy. Yeah, we became friends over YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're probably thinking, "How is this possibly a problem? There are so many groups, you probably always have somebody to hang out with." The thing is that I'm friends with all of them, but I don't really know too many people who I can trust with my secrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just need somebody to talk to who can understand what I'm going through, and I don't really have anybody like that.  I'm sure I could talk to anybody in any of those groups, but I don't really trust them to keep my secrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one person online I could trust to tell everything was Davey(boyz). He was the most supportive person when I needed him and I'm eternally grateful for that. But he's almost never online anymore, and when he is, I don't notice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So pretty much I need to find somebody and be like, "YOU! You're my new best friend. Listen to my problems." That won't be weird at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog was lacking in Youth Group stuff. Here, take some pictures. The first one is me "TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH" ing the Tabernacle. The second one is Cody wearing a jacket. He saved my life on Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=2594_59632923959_612193959_1456236_.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/2594_59632923959_612193959_1456236_.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=2672_143633855601_668870601_6278200.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/2672_143633855601_668870601_6278200.jpg" alt="Cody in his Jacket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3007962921517931368?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3007962921517931368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3007962921517931368' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3007962921517931368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3007962921517931368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/friends-or-lack-thereof.html' title='Friends (or lack thereof)'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6307990872916041281</id><published>2009-03-24T00:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T00:42:46.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BOYS BOYS BOYS</title><content type='html'>I already submitted my letter declining the trip to England, but I think I'm starting to regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I have the memory of Cody, a skater who wears skinny jeans all the time, dancing to "Boys Boys Boys" in the church. good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, CB looked all around the room and made a big deal out of sitting next to me. And he's going to my prom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep time nao? No, not yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6307990872916041281?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6307990872916041281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6307990872916041281' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6307990872916041281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6307990872916041281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/boys-boys-boys.html' title='BOYS BOYS BOYS'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2415340131045011778</id><published>2009-03-21T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T23:04:14.751-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitchhhh</title><content type='html'>I'm planning on doing something really bitch pretty soon just for the sake of being bitchy. It'll make somebody (and possibly their friends) hate me, but that's okay because I'm mad at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN OTHER NEWS I got a new phone. It's really cute and I love it. Better than any iPhone anybody could possibly have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I spent an hour changing my contacts. A year ago, I changed it so all of them would be "It's *name* Bitch" in honor of Britney Spears. However, people think I'm crazy. So I changed every single contact individually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out I have some numbers I completely forgot about! Lots of internet people. Some internet people from across the ocean. Internet people who would know what to do with a powercut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have church tomorrow and I bought a cute new outfit just for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And post prom is coming together nicely. So far, the confirmed people are me, Emma, Shafaq, Sally, and Wendy. Possible people are Johnny, David (Emma's date), and Nat (Shafaq's date). The only sad part is that I'm missing the 9th graders confirmation. I've prepared them for 2 years and I won't even get to see them "graduate" so to speak. Sad day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT PARTY AT THE LAKE HOUSE! And I'm gonna tell Ben he should come. That would be mad fun. He could wear his manly moccasins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does anybody read this? There's no way anybody understands anything in here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2415340131045011778?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2415340131045011778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2415340131045011778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2415340131045011778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2415340131045011778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/bitchhhh.html' title='Bitchhhh'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2471307381863172008</id><published>2009-03-17T21:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T21:34:44.654-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Done</title><content type='html'>I've been putting way too much effort into whatever's going on.&lt;br /&gt;I've been making passive aggressive comments in here in the hopes that he gets the point.&lt;br /&gt;I've even moved on (to another stupid decision. Somebody please talk me out of it)&lt;br /&gt;But now I realize that I've been spending way too much energy worrying about it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done wasting my energy on something you don't even care about.&lt;br /&gt;I hate being that person though, the person who stops caring.&lt;br /&gt;But I need to be selfish or I'll drive myself crazy.&lt;br /&gt;So when you're ready to stop ignoring me, do it.&lt;br /&gt;I just wish you had been there when I needed you.&lt;br /&gt;I needed you a couple weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;I needed to talk to you about everything.&lt;br /&gt;I needed a shoulder to cry on and somebody to support me.&lt;br /&gt;But I don't need that anymore, so I guess I don't need you.&lt;br /&gt;The weird thing is that when I needed support, I got it from somebody you hate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2471307381863172008?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2471307381863172008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2471307381863172008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2471307381863172008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2471307381863172008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/done.html' title='Done'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-6176062927464271674</id><published>2009-03-15T16:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T16:16:36.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ANOTHER Rainbow blog?!</title><content type='html'>So because today's Sunday, I can get on facebook. That means I can put pictures into this blog XD Click them to make them bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Team1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 420px; height: 315px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/Team1.jpg" alt="Team 2" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the Team.&lt;br /&gt;Left to Right (or something like that...)&lt;br /&gt;Anne Marie, Kiara, Tommy, Ben, Colin, Emily, John, Greg, Katie, Rae, Mike, Gretchen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=SmallGroup1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 418px; height: 313px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/SmallGroup1.jpg" alt="taRAHHHH" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=SmallGroup2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 415px; height: 311px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/SmallGroup2.jpg" alt="JESUS GROUPIES" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are my small group members. I love them!&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, left to right:&lt;br /&gt;Me, Alyssa, Brendan, Kathryn, Alexa, Rudy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Kids1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 434px; height: 325px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/Kids1.jpg" alt="The kids!" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are all the kids. There are about 45 of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=n1334370976_30882660_5234023.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 434px; height: 325px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/n1334370976_30882660_5234023.jpg" alt="Chris Made Me Cry" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Chris playing "I will follow you into the dark" and making me cry (in a good way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=BreakingIn1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 436px; height: 327px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/BreakingIn1.jpg" alt="Breaking In!" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the retreat, we thought the Blue House was locked, so we had to shove Brielle through a window. So essentially, we broke into the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=MikesUniform3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 442px; height: 397px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/MikesUniform3.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys were playing Ultimate Frisbee and that was Mike's uniform. It was hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Team3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 442px; height: 331px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/Team3.jpg" alt="Team Morning" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the team at 7 in the morning. I &lt;3 them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to Youth Group again tonight and seeing a lot of these kids. I'm so super duper excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-6176062927464271674?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/6176062927464271674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=6176062927464271674' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6176062927464271674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/6176062927464271674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-rainbow-blog.html' title='ANOTHER Rainbow blog?!'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4409208392620405783</id><published>2009-03-11T17:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T17:42:31.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Day Today</title><content type='html'>I was gonna put stuff on twitter today, but then I realized I had too much I wanted to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my opener aired on AM Wired and all day at school people were telling me that they saw it and asking me how I did it.  Everybody thought it was great and they were impressed when I explained how I did it. It made me realize how much I love videos and making videos people will enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got a 97% on a Pre-Calc test. That made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And purely for the benefit of myself when I'm re-reading this (HI FUTURE TARA) I want to mention a couple people with whom I've recently fallen in love:&lt;br /&gt;MIKE- Officer Mike is amazing (and he's only Officer Mike because he acts like a police officer and wants it to be his career) for so many reasons. His Ultimate Frisbee uniform was sexy. His shoelaces matched his shirt (although he assured me it was a mistake) and he threatens to kill people in Church. And when we were sharing a song book, the song got too high for him and he shouted "GODDAMNIT!" in the middle of church. Plus, I know I can always go to him if I need to threaten somebody or if somebody's annoying me.&lt;br /&gt;CODY- I'm not sure how Cody can breathe with pants that tight. But I was really excited yesterday when he said hi to me right away. And he threatened a couple 13 year olds for me, so that was nice. He also informed me that Rebecca was giving me the death glare and it was hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;MATT- Matt is my teaching partner and he was nice enough to let me move into a group without Rebecca. But he's also amazingly funny and we had the best skit EVER a couple weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;JACK- Jack locked himself in a bathroom by accident once. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;BRENDAN- Brendan stopped in the middle of the most crowded hallway in school to give me a hug and ask me if I was doing okay (because he knew I was crying on the retreat). It was super sweet and I love him.&lt;br /&gt;CHRIS- He started the "And there are fish" thing, but he's so much more than just humor. He has so much wisdom and courage and I'm sure his story will prepare me for life in the future.&lt;br /&gt;BEN- I have no clue where to start! But I'll be going up to the lake just to see him. And he has cool moccasins.&lt;br /&gt;BRIELLE- I see so much more in her now than I ever have before.&lt;br /&gt;LEXI- We really bonded with sharing our stories. We shared some really tough stuff and we helped each other through them.&lt;br /&gt;ALEXA- She's my girl. i was her "teacher", but really, she taught me so much &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4409208392620405783?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4409208392620405783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4409208392620405783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4409208392620405783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4409208392620405783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-day-today.html' title='My Day Today'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8401422172198865514</id><published>2009-03-08T20:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T20:34:47.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;3</title><content type='html'>Today I looked in the mirror and for the first time ever, I thought I was pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything in the world is wonderful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8401422172198865514?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8401422172198865514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8401422172198865514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8401422172198865514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8401422172198865514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/3.html' title='&lt;3'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-5555499406192526748</id><published>2009-03-07T23:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T01:06:29.439-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Recap &lt;3</title><content type='html'>I really want to write about everything that happened. I currently have the best feeling in the world and I want to ride it as long as possible. Maybe if this goes past midnight, pictures will be added...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday at Church:&lt;br /&gt;- Got ready and went to the Church at 5&lt;br /&gt;- Made the name tags and gave Greg a really pretty pink with flowers and a bow&lt;br /&gt;- Ate pizza and listened to stories about the ice rink&lt;br /&gt;- Watched the video of Ben falling on the ice&lt;br /&gt;- TAKE CONTROL! (birth control)&lt;br /&gt;- Bob Marley Jesus, Mug Shot Jesus, Pedophile Jesus&lt;br /&gt;- faith, celebrate, inspire&lt;br /&gt;- Debating over puff paint for 20 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday at My House-&lt;br /&gt;- ChrisGregTommyshit&lt;br /&gt;- Manshit Kwok&lt;br /&gt;- Lexi called me pretty XD&lt;br /&gt;- 2 hour long prayer just saying nice things about each other&lt;br /&gt;- "I'm listening, I'm just texting"&lt;br /&gt;- "If Rae gets arrested, I can take her talk"&lt;br /&gt;- "Senior Stuff"&lt;br /&gt;- the OTHER 2 hour long prayer (while Ben was trying to get to sleep)&lt;br /&gt;- Random Fact: Tara has good cookies.&lt;br /&gt;- Random Fact: I'm Jewish&lt;br /&gt;- Going to sleep at 2 am to wake up at 6, then go through over 15 hours of Church stuff&lt;br /&gt;- Greg trying to show me his penis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday (this will be long)-&lt;br /&gt;- shoving the alarm next to Greg's face&lt;br /&gt;- lots of caffeine. LOTS.&lt;br /&gt;- Greg almost killing me driving&lt;br /&gt;- Ben shaves his legs&lt;br /&gt;- THE JESUS GROUPIES&lt;br /&gt;- "Rudyyyy!"&lt;br /&gt;- TaRAHHHHH&lt;br /&gt;- I was the first to need the first aid kit.&lt;br /&gt;- Ben got a HUGE cut and got Barbie, NASCAR, and Hello Kitty band-aids&lt;br /&gt;- "Get that shit off the table!"&lt;br /&gt;- "I was wondering, but now I'm in awe!"&lt;br /&gt;- Ella ella ella...&lt;br /&gt;- Best version of "I will follow you into the dark" ever&lt;br /&gt;- Crying because of Chris's talk and realizing how much my grandfather has lived.&lt;br /&gt;- Giving the person my right shoe.&lt;br /&gt;- sauce&lt;br /&gt;- buddy lunch FAIL!&lt;br /&gt;- being able to pray for Rae as my PP&lt;br /&gt;- being able to be the first one to pray for PP&lt;br /&gt;- being able to burn the secrets&lt;br /&gt;- before my talk, John telling me that he knew it would be amazing no matter what&lt;br /&gt;- John pulling my name out of his pocket&lt;br /&gt;- everybody giving me so much support&lt;br /&gt;- Tommy P., a kid I never talked to, is that typical REALLY REALLY REALLY HOTTT lacrosse player. After the group huddle for my talk, he stayed behind and gave me a hug and said, "I know you're gonna be great. I know you and I know you can do it."&lt;br /&gt;- Me crying before my talk even started&lt;br /&gt;- Tommy saying, "It's so good, she hasn't even started and she's crying already!"&lt;br /&gt;- Feeling the support when the shoes were in front of me&lt;br /&gt;- Random kid throwing her shoe into the pile in support&lt;br /&gt;- Seeing my girl Alexa crying during my talk&lt;br /&gt;- going through my whole talk while crying, sobbing, and being a complete mess.&lt;br /&gt;- The look on Chris's face when he hugged me and told me I did a great job. I know he meant it.&lt;br /&gt;- Hugs from all of the team members.&lt;br /&gt;- A girl I hadn't talked to all day came up to me to give me a hug, say she's sorry, and ask if I'm okay.&lt;br /&gt;- Random kid I hadn't talked to coming up to give me a hug. He's special &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;- Random girl I hadn't talked to telling me that my talk was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;- A special hug from AnneMarie&lt;br /&gt;- Mike waring the pink blindfold as a headband all day. It was actually very attractive.&lt;br /&gt;- SITTING NEXT TO MIKE IN CHURCH&lt;br /&gt;- The ribbon in Church&lt;br /&gt;- Chase carrying the other kid&lt;br /&gt;- Leading blind Gomez up the hill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I'm about to shut my eyes and crash. There will be another one of these just because I want to remember every detail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-5555499406192526748?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/5555499406192526748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=5555499406192526748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5555499406192526748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/5555499406192526748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/rainbow-recap-3.html' title='Rainbow Recap &lt;3'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-3082028647847171162</id><published>2009-03-05T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:02:35.817-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ZoMg RaInBoW!!1!1</title><content type='html'>This week, everything is coming together to completely stress me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I'm in a Looking for Alaska situation where I'm Lara and he's Pudge, only I don't think anybody *there was a spoiler here. I was kind enough to remove it*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The retreat is on Saturday. Ever since I went on this retreat when I was 14, I was excited for teaching it. And ever since that January, I knew what my talk would be about. But I never knew how stressful it would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm giving my talk on the most personal thing in my life.  It's this big secret that I have and don't tell anybody. I only told my best friend a couple months ago. And going through this whole process of preparing a speech is making everything so real to me and it's taking a toll.  I want every word to be perfect to get across the right emotions and I'm way too hard on myself when I don't get it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope is that finally being open to these kids about that secret will help me deal with it, but it's so fucking stressful.  I feel so emotionally unstable and I hate it! I've cried more in the past week than I have in the past ten years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on top of that, I'm going through the shitty Pudge Lara situation. It would be really nice to have support from the places I need it most, but I don't always feel like I'm getting that. The few friends who I can trust haven't been there for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today, Greg told me that he wanted me to play Umbrella on the retreat. I know how to play it, but that's just more stress being put on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a mental breakdown coming...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-3082028647847171162?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/3082028647847171162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=3082028647847171162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3082028647847171162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/3082028647847171162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/zomg-rainbow11.html' title='ZoMg RaInBoW!!1!1'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1822730500156310425</id><published>2009-03-02T00:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T00:44:25.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Entertainment</title><content type='html'>I was just going about my normal business and my screen happened to be this (Click it. Click it. Click it. Click it.):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/EntertainingScreen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 610px; height: 364px;" src="http://i579.photobucket.com/albums/ss235/taramakescrap/EntertainingScreen.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think only me and Q will find that funny, but I found it very funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The iTunes music if my top played songs.&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. The conversations are not the lulzy parts. Feel free to read them if you feel the desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Q, it looks like it goes 3, 2, 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1822730500156310425?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1822730500156310425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1822730500156310425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1822730500156310425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1822730500156310425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/self-entertainment.html' title='Self Entertainment'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-36134352450086011</id><published>2009-03-01T21:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T22:33:05.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ANOTHER Youth Group blog?</title><content type='html'>Youth Group was fun tonight. We played Taboo. Stop reading now because the rest will be filled with things you won't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(the word is "vote")&lt;br /&gt;John: Okay, so you would use this... like for Barack Obama.&lt;br /&gt;Collin: GUN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John: It's like Parmesan... SNAP! Come on. Parmesan... SNAP!&lt;br /&gt;Collin: We give up!&lt;br /&gt;John: It's a mouse trap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen: There are a lot of these in Livingston...&lt;br /&gt;Bianca: JEWS!&lt;br /&gt;Emily: JEWISH PEOPLE!&lt;br /&gt;AnneMarie: TEMPLES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Love. My. Youth. Group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night I think a bunch of them are gonna sleep over my house. And by a bunch I mean possibly 15. My Church Week goes/has been like this-&lt;br /&gt;Saturday- Speaking at Church (5-6)&lt;br /&gt;Sunday- Youth Group (7-9)&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday- Teaching 8th Graders (6-8)&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday- Preparing for Rainbow Retreat (7-9??)&lt;br /&gt;Thursday- Stations of the Cross Practice (7:30-9:30)&lt;br /&gt;Friday- Preparing the Church and Tobias Hall, then to my place for a sleepover (5- FOREVA)&lt;br /&gt;Saturday- RAINBOW RETREAT!!! (8 am - 9 pm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm super excited, even though that's over 24 hours of Church in 1 week.&lt;br /&gt;But God is my homeboy, so it's all cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-36134352450086011?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/36134352450086011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=36134352450086011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/36134352450086011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/36134352450086011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-youth-group-blog.html' title='ANOTHER Youth Group blog?'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-776679698331440067</id><published>2009-03-01T12:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T12:18:52.929-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exciting Stuff.</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;YOU'RE DELLUSIONAL!!! We've last spoken in January! Do the maths. Gladto see I've been missing, tough. I'll be back on wednesday. ^^ DFTBA!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Adore. Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was an exciting day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my church to talk about the Youth Group and how we "give back" instead of "give up" for Lent. When I was done, all the old ladies were like, "You were fantastic! You should be a lector. It's amazing what you're doing." It was fun, even though I know all the old ladies hate teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;And my gay priest kissed me on the cheek. I was a little scared, but I got through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my family headed up to my sister's college to go out for dinner. I went to go up to her room and some creepy guy mumbled something to me that I didn't understand. I was scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate hibachi. I love hibachi. We ate fried ice cream. I love fried ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I named all of the Top 20 American Juniors with my sister (and the songs they sang) EXCEPT FOR KARA LEIBERMAN! We forgot about her and it was killing us. So I went to her room and we looked it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were penises drawn on pretty much everything in my sister's room. I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back home and became Danny for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Exciting stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH AND  two days ago, Jed told me I was an 8.5 out of 10, 1 being ugly and 10 being the most fuckable. THEN DaveGX told me he thought I was a 10. Highlight of my life XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-776679698331440067?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/776679698331440067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=776679698331440067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/776679698331440067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/776679698331440067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/03/exciting-stuff.html' title='Exciting Stuff.'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-4120305917848149004</id><published>2009-02-26T19:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T19:14:25.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Boy</title><content type='html'>There's a boy to whom I have not spoken in about 4 months (I think. I can't even remember the last time we talked...). He sent me this dm today on twitter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;"Life is so boring when you don't have anyone to annoy you over skype and to tell you how british boys are hotter than you. I miss you."&lt;br /&gt;I read it during school and it made me very very happy XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's something about guitars that make anybody sexy. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;There's a kid in my physics class who's the stupidest kid in the world. I swear he doesn't know the difference between life and death. His midterm grade was so low, it wasn't even on the curve. One time, the teacher asked, "So if Jupiter's radius is 9 times that of the Earth, how much heavier do we feel on Jupiter than on the Earth?" and he raised his hand, got really excited, and said, "OOH! I know this one! It's a trick question because we would be dead!"&lt;br /&gt;That's how stupid this kid is.&lt;br /&gt;But today he brought his guitar into class and managed to play a flawless "Good Riddance". How is that even possible?! And the girl in front of me (who I love to bits) turned around and said, "Ehmigawd (because she talks like that) I can't even look at him because I'll just want to do him right here."&lt;br /&gt;Guitars are like magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOST EVERYTHING ON MY GOOGLE READER BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT! So if you have any blog or something, please just send me the link?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-4120305917848149004?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/4120305917848149004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=4120305917848149004' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4120305917848149004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/4120305917848149004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-boy.html' title='Oh Boy'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-32182250639717019</id><published>2009-02-25T21:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:31:35.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And There Are Fish</title><content type='html'>So this is another blog about my Youth Group. I've decided that I love writing in here for myself rather than an "update" for the 2 people who read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going on a 1 day retreat on March 7th. I'm not just going on it, I'm planning it and teaching it and giving a talk there. I'm really nervous because my talk is something really really personal. It's a big thing I've kept to myself for the longest time and I'm finally speaking about it for the first time.  The other teachers have been really supportive of me, but it's still really stressful. But I think it'll help these kids to hear this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was a planning meeting for this Rainbow Retreat and it was just fantastic. Each person gets to choose a song to play after their talk and today, Chris played "I will follow you into the dark" on his guitar for us and it was the best version I've ever heard. His talk almost brought me to tears and the song made me want to give him a hug. Youth Group is so inspirational &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we planned some shizz and said funny things that I will now put here, but you won't understand:&lt;br /&gt;"And there are fish."&lt;br /&gt;"It's Fish-tianity!"&lt;br /&gt;"I am the captain in my cabin above / I sit in here and watch you... love?"&lt;br /&gt;"i iz father gerald. i watch u luv omnomnom"&lt;br /&gt;"He was talking about pillaging villages and she was talking about fire being the Holy Spirit. I think I'm gonna have to go with her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that group of people so much and even though I'm 100% sure none of them read this (or even know about my internet life) I have to just do it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 Lexi, &lt;3 Chris, &lt;3 Greg, &lt;3 Rae, &lt;3 Gretchen, &lt;3 Emily&lt;br /&gt;That was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeahhh, I iz down with the G-O-D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-32182250639717019?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/32182250639717019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=32182250639717019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/32182250639717019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/32182250639717019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-there-are-fish.html' title='And There Are Fish'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-53524593679756241</id><published>2009-02-24T23:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T23:28:49.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Word Vomit</title><content type='html'>I'm tired and I want to go to bed but I just feel like forcing some word vomit upon people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really sad lately. I'm usually a very happy person. Thank God Sophia and Emma are there to understand my crazy thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized that it used to be "Us Vs. the Mannings", but I've slowly started to fall in love with each of the Mannings. The most recent victim of my complete and utter love is Danny who will probably not read this due to lack of follow button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can haz Bamboozle? Yes. I'm pretty sure I can haz Bamboozle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned that I've been sad and my cure for sadness is going to church. I'm there 3 or 4 nights a week and usually it's the same people. But recently, the group of THOSE boys started going. By "THOSE" I mean the boys who are the funniest people in the world, even if they are immature. So I'm teaching with this one guy Matt who is completely amazing. Insert picture that I took of him at church HERE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v213/172/44/782722835/n782722835_413580_3178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 591px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v213/172/44/782722835/n782722835_413580_3178.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I will now put some quotes from Matt that you won't understand, but I'll enjoy when I go back to read this later.&lt;br /&gt;"So you're gonna be walking along and then I'M GONNA MUG YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;"I think when I mug you, I'm gonna take your $3 and your chewy bar, but leave your phone. Why would I want your phone?!"&lt;br /&gt;"I used to get away with so much shit. I would be like, 'I'm a hooker!' and Cara would love it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to play my ukulele for my physics class. Long story, but pretty much either we learn for 80 minutes or I play my ukulele. I'm taking one for the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's actual bedtime. I feel like I was writing this with a bunch of stuff to say, but I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH And I'm thinking about submitting something to fmylife.com, but I'm not sure if I should.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-53524593679756241?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/53524593679756241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=53524593679756241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/53524593679756241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/53524593679756241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/word-vomit.html' title='Word Vomit'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2281647710594672077</id><published>2009-02-23T00:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T01:24:30.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="entry-body"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="item-body"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I stole this from Jerry's blog, but he doesn't know me so I guess that's creepy. Oh well, I should be writing an English essay and I really don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;001. Real name → Tara Claire Marie&lt;br /&gt;002. Nickname(s) → TC, T *vomit*&lt;br /&gt;003. Zodiac sign → Cancer&lt;br /&gt;004. Male or female → Female&lt;br /&gt;006. Middle School → Heritage and Mount Pleasant (does it concern anybody else that there's no 5?)&lt;br /&gt;007. High School →  LHS&lt;br /&gt;008. Hair color → brown&lt;br /&gt;009. Long or short → too long&lt;br /&gt;010. Loud or Quiet → Around friends- loud. Around strangers- quiet&lt;br /&gt;011. Sweats or Jeans → sweats&lt;br /&gt;012. Phone or Camera → phone&lt;br /&gt;013. Health freak → LMAO&lt;br /&gt;014. Drink or Smoke? → Never.&lt;br /&gt;015. Do you have a crush on someone? → yes&lt;br /&gt;016. Eat or Drink → eatttt&lt;br /&gt;017. Piercings → 2 in each ear, but I think they closed up&lt;br /&gt;018. Tattoos → Eventually, I'll get the Chinese character for "dream" (meng) on my hip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;HAVE YOU EVER?&lt;br /&gt;019. Been in an airplane → Yes&lt;br /&gt;020. Been in a relationship → Yes&lt;br /&gt;021. Been in a car accident → No&lt;br /&gt;022. Been in a fist fight → No&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;FIRSTS:&lt;br /&gt;023. First piercing → ears when I was 4&lt;br /&gt;024. First best friend → Brie-z when I was 3&lt;br /&gt;025. First award → Carol Scharf Creativity Award&lt;br /&gt;026. First crush → PJ. I actually married him.&lt;br /&gt;027. NO CLUE WHAT THIS QUESTION WAS AHHH FLAWED THING!&lt;br /&gt;028. First big vacation → Lake George when I was 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;LASTS:&lt;br /&gt;029. Last person you talked to → My mom yelling at me.&lt;br /&gt;030. Last person you texted → Twitter, although technically that's not a person, but it was a dm to Pav on twitter.&lt;br /&gt;031. Last person you watched a movie with → Jenna&lt;br /&gt;032. Last food you ate → Lasagna&lt;br /&gt;033. Last movie you watched → Spectacular, but I only got through half of it.&lt;br /&gt;034. Last song you listened to → I Will Follow You Into the Dark (Blue Skies cover)&lt;br /&gt;035. Last thing you bought —&gt; Probably lunch a week ago.&lt;br /&gt;036. Last person you hugged → salope s'il te plait, hugs are for losers. (I don't remember)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;FAVES:&lt;br /&gt;037. Food → Mommy's Lasagna&lt;br /&gt;038. Drinks → Hot Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;039. Clothing → Short shorts in general &lt;3 Or that 1 dress I have in 5 colors.&lt;br /&gt;040. Flower → rose&lt;br /&gt;041. Animal → human&lt;br /&gt;042. Colors → a very specific shade of blue&lt;br /&gt;043. Movies → Benny and Joon&lt;br /&gt;044. Subjects → Math&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;IN 2008….. I&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;045. [x] kissed someone&lt;br /&gt;046. [x] celebrated Halloween&lt;br /&gt;047. [x] had your heart broken&lt;br /&gt;048. [x] went over the minutes on your cell phone&lt;br /&gt;049. [x] questioned someone’s sexual orientation&lt;br /&gt;050. [ ] came out of the closet&lt;br /&gt;051. [ ] gotten pregnant/got someone pregnant&lt;br /&gt;052. [ ] had an abortion&lt;br /&gt;053. [x] done something you’ve regretted&lt;br /&gt;054. [x] broke a promise&lt;br /&gt;055. [x] hid a secret&lt;br /&gt;056. [x] pretended to be happy&lt;br /&gt;057. [x] met someone who changed your life&lt;br /&gt;058. [x] pretended to be sick&lt;br /&gt;059. [ ] left the country&lt;br /&gt;060. [x] tried something you normally wouldn’t try and liked it&lt;br /&gt;061. [x] cried over the silliest thing&lt;br /&gt;062. [x] ran a mile&lt;br /&gt;063. [x] went to the beach with your best friend(s)&lt;br /&gt;064. [x] got into an argument with your friends&lt;br /&gt;065. [x] hated someone&lt;br /&gt;066. [  ] stayed single the year&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;CURRENTLY:&lt;br /&gt;067. Eating → Nothing&lt;br /&gt;068. Drinking → Tea&lt;br /&gt;069. I’m about to → Continue writing my essay&lt;br /&gt;070. Listening to →&lt;br /&gt;071. Plans for today - Go to school. Die.&lt;br /&gt;072. Waiting for → 2 weeks to be over so I can go on Rainbow (this sentence seems crazy unless you're me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;YOUR FUTURE:&lt;br /&gt;073. Want kids? → DON'T FUCKING ASK ME THIS QUESTION&lt;br /&gt;074. Want to get married? → Yes&lt;br /&gt;075. Careers in mind → television production&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;WHICH IS BETTER WITH GIRL/BOY?&lt;br /&gt;076. Lips or eyes → Eyes&lt;br /&gt;077. Shorter or taller? → shorter&lt;br /&gt;078. Romantic or spontaneous → romantic&lt;br /&gt;079. Nice stomach or nice arms → stomach. arms scare me. i could get crushed.&lt;br /&gt;080. Sensitive or loud → sensitive&lt;br /&gt;081. Hook-up or relationship- relationship&lt;br /&gt;082. Trouble-maker or hesitant → trouble maker (but not in the illegal sense)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;HAVE YOU EVER:&lt;br /&gt;083. Lost glasses/contacts → only always&lt;br /&gt;084. Ran away from home → nope, but I've been packed with money saved.&lt;br /&gt;085. Hold a gun/knife for self defense →LMAO yessss&lt;br /&gt;086. Killed somebody → No (but if I did, why would I say yes there...)&lt;br /&gt;087. Broken someone’s heart → I heard I did, but I don't think it's true.&lt;br /&gt;088. Been arrested → nope&lt;br /&gt;089. Cried when someone died → yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;DO YOU BELIEVE IN:&lt;br /&gt;090. Yourself → yah&lt;br /&gt;091. Miracles → yes&lt;br /&gt;092. Love at first sight → Now I do.&lt;br /&gt;093. Heaven → Yes&lt;br /&gt;094. Santa Claus → No&lt;br /&gt;095. Sex on the first date → Sure, why not?&lt;br /&gt;096. Kiss on the first date → yes&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;097. Is there one person you want to be with right now? → you don't even know the half of it.&lt;br /&gt;098. Are you seriously happy with where you are in life? → yes&lt;br /&gt;099. Do you believe in God? → yes&lt;br /&gt;100. Post as 100 truths and tag 10 → No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2281647710594672077?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2281647710594672077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2281647710594672077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2281647710594672077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2281647710594672077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/procrastination.html' title='Procrastination'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-1636741561506839079</id><published>2009-02-22T13:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T13:34:23.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Signals</title><content type='html'>Why can't DaveGX just love me the way I love him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: Dave, are you in love with me?&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX1 says: YES&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX1 says: NO&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: Are you gonna rape me?&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX1 says: MAYBE&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX1 says: FREIDNS tara&lt;br /&gt;DaveGX1 says: YES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's sending me these crazy mixed signals and they're confusing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-1636741561506839079?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/1636741561506839079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=1636741561506839079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1636741561506839079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/1636741561506839079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/mixed-signals.html' title='Mixed Signals'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-784224181879564955</id><published>2009-02-19T17:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T17:22:32.798-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stomach. Always Stomach.</title><content type='html'>My IRL friend Mark:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: does reading tummy bother u too?&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: I actually cringed&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: no joke&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: hahaha&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: pwned&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: oh yea&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: i dont say pwned&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: i say&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: bwned&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: it's like an extreme typo then&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: it's like a typo, then dyslexia&lt;br /&gt;Mark says: lysdexia&lt;br /&gt;TGal227 says: hahahaha, exactly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I hate the words "tummy" and "belly" and if you say them, I go through these spasm things. So don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-784224181879564955?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/784224181879564955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=784224181879564955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/784224181879564955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/784224181879564955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/stomach-always-stomach.html' title='Stomach. Always Stomach.'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2108172781771907769</id><published>2009-02-18T09:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T10:15:05.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"vent" doesn't even begin to cover it</title><content type='html'>*WARNING* If you read this, you will probably end up hating me. If you don't want to hate me, please don't read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, hello blog. I feel like it's been a while. Maybe it hasn't, but it seems like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So some shit happened over the past couple days that got me thinking... Now, I think I'm a pretty tough person.  I rarely get emotional about stuff and I didn't even cry at the end of The Notebook (it was a HAPPY ENDING! They're old and they love each other. END OF STORY IT'S HAPPY!). The last time I remember somebody making me cry was in 3rd grade when Josh Fucking Dumbroff said I was mean and pushed me into the monkey bars, giving me a black eye. And just the other day, my friend described my personality as "whatever" meaning that I really never give a fuck about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So somebody must do something pretty bad to make me upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another related thing is that I'm pretty confident about my personality. It took a hellhole of a freshman year to get me to that point, but I really like who I am.  So if somebody calls me a bitch, slut, cunt, or bully, it doesn't bother me because I just think it's funny. It's when people start insulting things that I value when I get upset. If somebody tells me I'm not a good friend, that actually hurts because I care so much about my friends and I try so hard to make sure I don't lose them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the worst thing is that when somebody starts insulting me like that, especially somebody I like a lot, I start to think it's true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2108172781771907769?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2108172781771907769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2108172781771907769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2108172781771907769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2108172781771907769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/vent-doesnt-even-begin-to-cover-it.html' title='&quot;vent&quot; doesn&apos;t even begin to cover it'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-8125519429083967442</id><published>2009-02-11T21:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T22:20:12.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lists</title><content type='html'>This is by far the longest week ever. I was at Youth Group 4 nights in a row!&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: led discussion on stress&lt;br /&gt;Monday: proctored an exam and played my guitar. 'twas fun.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: The Boys showed up and we had inappropriate conversations while proctoring another test.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Prepared for the retreat and listened to a talk that almost made me cry in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I'm Happy About:&lt;br /&gt;I have a 4.0177 GPA so far this year.&lt;br /&gt;Johnny texts me ah-dorable things.&lt;br /&gt;Next week is break!&lt;br /&gt;I may have a visitor this summer...&lt;br /&gt;My English teacher is letting me write an essay about Looking For Alaska&lt;br /&gt;We're having a Mario Kart tournament in my TV class on Friday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I'm Not Happy About:&lt;br /&gt;The TV Studio is over 80 degrees (F) and I might DIE!!!&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day is coming up.&lt;br /&gt;French test on Friday&lt;br /&gt;I have an issue only Davey can help me with and we almost never have time to talk.&lt;br /&gt;The existence of the Atlantic Ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I plan to do over break:&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-8125519429083967442?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/8125519429083967442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=8125519429083967442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8125519429083967442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/8125519429083967442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/lists.html' title='Lists'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2024006404089979701</id><published>2009-02-07T20:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T20:30:59.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is What Boredom Makes Me Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These things look like so much fun when you're really bored. I've seen this everywhere, but the one that sent me over the edge was Denise:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Username:&lt;/b&gt; TGal227&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why did you pick it?:&lt;/b&gt; I was in 4th grade. My nickname was "T" *vomits* and I wanted people to know I was a girl. 2 is my lucky number (because of Derek Jeter) and my birthday is June 27th, therefore 227.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who did you first subscribe to?:&lt;/b&gt; BenLoka&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who did you most recently subscribe to?:&lt;/b&gt; BlueSkyCanopyCovers (right after BlueSkyCanopy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What does your last text message say?:&lt;/b&gt; "sry this text is late but omg your cookies made me jizz in my pants bitch"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have any goals?:&lt;/b&gt; Go to England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was the last thing you bought?:&lt;/b&gt; Pizza at lunch on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe the person who posted this using one line?:&lt;/b&gt; She's a super whore, but I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you excited about anything?:&lt;/b&gt; This video I spent a LONG time on finally airing on the TV show I do in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have a crush?&lt;/b&gt;: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been drunk?:&lt;/b&gt; That would be illegal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who was the first Youtuber you met in real life?:&lt;/b&gt; Laney &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who was the last Youtuber you met in real life?:&lt;/b&gt; Lauren aka devilishlypure aka the original Tuesday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you prefer day or night?:&lt;/b&gt; Night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a member of any collab channels?:&lt;/b&gt; I was in one a while ago... but there are SO many I've started with friends, my favorite probably being Steven Exists Fanclub&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have a secret account?:&lt;/b&gt; Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you believe in God?:&lt;/b&gt; God is my bffl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Which Youtuber do you talk to the most?:&lt;/b&gt; probably Pav&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Which Youtuber do you think makes the best videos?:&lt;/span&gt; I think corporalcadet's videos are pretty kickass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You may only subscribe to 5 channels and only watch their videos. Who will they be?:&lt;/b&gt; AHHH NOOOOOO (musicfromblueskies, corporalcadet, italktosnakes, chrisontv88, littleradge)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you in a relationship?:&lt;/b&gt; Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Would you date a smoker?:&lt;/b&gt; I'm gonna say no, but that might be a lie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where is your favourite place?:&lt;/b&gt; Manhattan, Yankee Stadium (the old, good one) or Lake George.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a happy person?:&lt;/b&gt; XD &lt;-- obviously yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Would you kiss the person who posted this?:&lt;/b&gt; psh, we've done much more than kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What would you take to the desert island?:&lt;/b&gt; my computer (lulz, nerd)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you prefer sun or snow?:&lt;/b&gt; Sun.  The snow is way too cold!  Although making a snowman is tons of fun. ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who did you last speak to on the phone?&lt;/b&gt;: Shafaq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who did you last text?:&lt;/b&gt; Shafaq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are you doing tommorow?:&lt;/b&gt; Homework, Laundry, and Youth Group&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your favourite flavour of potato chips?:&lt;/b&gt; Plain. I hate it when my mom gets dumb flavors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What size are your feet?:&lt;/b&gt; 6 1/2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you want?:&lt;/b&gt; To go to England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you need?:&lt;/b&gt; To do my homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you remember?:&lt;/b&gt; I have this weird thing where I remember everything... So if I know too much about you, it's probably because you said it at one point and I just remembered it forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you wish?: &lt;/b&gt;I could get a perfect score on the SATs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Confess:&lt;/b&gt; Sometimes, I'm a huge bitch just for the fun of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Honestly, do you want people to anonymously post what they REALLY think of you?:&lt;/b&gt; I would actually love that. I'm always worried that people really hate me and talk about me behind my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that was fun! And it kept me from being bored for a little while. yayyy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to boredom. I should ask Twig for advice on how to get through it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2024006404089979701?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2024006404089979701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2024006404089979701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2024006404089979701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2024006404089979701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-what-boredom-makes-me-do.html' title='This is What Boredom Makes Me Do'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-2233310987557536337</id><published>2009-02-05T20:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:42:59.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom BITCHES</title><content type='html'>So this year is Junior year which means JUNIOR PROMMM!!! Yayyy! I've been tortured through 2 years of promless high school and I'm ready for this! And I've always been nervous about having a date. I thought I wouldn't have one and I would go alone while all my friends would be with guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some guy told me to ask him, but he just happens to be my best friends ex boyfriend... of two weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no. I will not go with him. Because I have the most awesome date ever!! Guys, meet Johnny:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v372/123/105/1111895153/n1111895153_165609_1997.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 279px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v372/123/105/1111895153/n1111895153_165609_1997.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is very awesome. He's 14 years old, he's a freshman, he sings, he plays volleyball, he's a giant, I love spending time with him, he gives me hugzzz, and he's g-g-g-gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tired of the whole prom date thing. Prom isn't until April and people are already getting worked up over who they're going with.  I had people telling me to ask them *cough*greg*cough* and I heard rumors about somebody wanting to ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But truthfully, I don't want to go with any of them. I don't want to go with any of the guys in my school. Really, I don't want to go with any guys in America...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I knew I could invite my gay bffl and he would go with me and we would have a BLAST! And we will have the hottest prom pictures ever. We'll match so hard core, it'll be scary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I asked him in the un-cutest way possible. I just texted him saying, "would you be up for prom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he said yesssss!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now actually excited. And when people are talking to me about it, I can just be like, "I have a date. It's gonna be a blast."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2233310987557536337?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2233310987557536337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2233310987557536337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2233310987557536337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2233310987557536337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/prom-bitches.html' title='Prom BITCHES'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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-3744932527722480063.post-7373350910248415774</id><published>2009-02-01T21:32:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:48:13.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Shit</title><content type='html'>I was at a Super Bowl party where the person's house had a mini movie theater in their basement.  That includes 14 cushioned chairs equiped with massaging and heating functions, and a 110 inch TV. Just for you to realize the full beauty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you first walk into the room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZdE4g1DTI/AAAAAAAAABM/eQgTK3tNfrY/s1600-h/0201091751.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZdE4g1DTI/AAAAAAAAABM/eQgTK3tNfrY/s400/0201091751.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298024350118907186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from my seat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZdSrfitYI/AAAAAAAAABU/fYfEQEiilSc/s1600-h/0201091820.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZdSrfitYI/AAAAAAAAABU/fYfEQEiilSc/s400/0201091820.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298024587142018434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side view of the chairs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZeGadX_QI/AAAAAAAAABc/5Hm0B_2oZG4/s1600-h/0201091819.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZeGadX_QI/AAAAAAAAABc/5Hm0B_2oZG4/s400/0201091819.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298025475922722050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bar right outside of the "theater":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZeZPAMFqI/AAAAAAAAABk/DzhXYFICTQY/s1600-h/0201091752.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZeZPAMFqI/AAAAAAAAABk/DzhXYFICTQY/s400/0201091752.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298025799265031842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place is CRAZY! You can't go anywhere in that house without being able to see a TV somewhere. So beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-7373350910248415774?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/7373350910248415774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=7373350910248415774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7373350910248415774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/7373350910248415774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/2009/02/holy-shit.html' title='Holy Shit'/><author><name>TaraWritesCrap</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14070023665256888789</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ieYzB9IJOB0/SYZdE4g1DTI/AAAAAAAAABM/eQgTK3tNfrY/s72-c/0201091751.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3744932527722480063.post-2040633180176411419</id><published>2009-02-01T12:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T12:35:49.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-insert title here-</title><content type='html'>I have officially received all of my mid term grades and they are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;Pre-Calculus Honors- A- (one of 7 in the A range out of all the classes. yayyy)&lt;br /&gt;US History 2- B (WTF?! I averaged 100% both marking periods. I'm pissed.)&lt;br /&gt;French 4 Honors- B (XD XD)&lt;br /&gt;Physics- over 100% (highest grade in the class XD)&lt;br /&gt;So overall, decent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a party last night and the following occurred:&lt;br /&gt;- Bryan danced the entire Thriller dance&lt;br /&gt;- Crowding around a computer hacking a girl's facebook&lt;br /&gt;- Crowding around a computer searching 4chan&lt;br /&gt;- "Hey, what's up?" "NOT YOUR T CELL COUNT!"&lt;br /&gt;- Bryan made out with Greg&lt;br /&gt;- Bryan made out with Pascal&lt;br /&gt;- Bryan made out with pretty much everybody&lt;br /&gt;- A conversation with a dinosaur about priest pedophilia&lt;br /&gt;- Avoiding somebody while they're sitting right next to you&lt;br /&gt;- Rapping "I'm Bo Yo" with Greg while people watched, very confused&lt;br /&gt;- Greg agreeing to possibly take me to the Bo Burnham concert in New York!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;- Debates about pokemon (Jesse and James were only 12 years old...)&lt;br /&gt;- Listening to and singing along with French music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I love my Asians &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3744932527722480063-2040633180176411419?l=tarawritescrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarawritescrap.blogspot.com/feeds/2040633180176411419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3744932527722480063&amp;postID=2040633180176411419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3744932527722480063/posts/default/2040633180176411419'/><link rel='self' 
