<?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-7689089079007456360</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:15:38.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion"</title><subtitle type='html'>-Waking Life</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689089079007456360.post-8029857011601644154</id><published>2008-08-07T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:34:47.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Update</title><content type='html'>So I figured it's been a little while and that my life have nearly done a 180 so I think I will update while I have a minute to myself to unwind and ramble.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First off, I just got a new internship at the bank helping with the "group tour" department.  I have to say---I am going to have the best job ever.  Basically, I will be looking through catalogs of different tours to different states, countries, or even different cruises.  I then decide which ones I would like to do, gather a group of people to go--and I then get to go on this trip for free as the tour planner.  Basically getting paid to travel.  I can't wait. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my internship at the bank is full time, but I also have a job at a piano bar---which I also LOVE.  So....I don't have a lot of time to myself...which I was afraid of at first....but come to find out, I kind of enjoy it....besides not having time to enjoy the sun anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onward.... so..... I believe I mentioned in an earlier post I had decided to put myself back on the market.  Well, coincidentally.... I wouldn't say I am in a relationship now....well it's some sort of relationship...but it doesn't have a name yet....all I can tell you is that he is my friend and I am moving 20 hours away to be with him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8029857011601644154?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8029857011601644154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8029857011601644154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8029857011601644154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8029857011601644154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/08/life-update.html' title='Life Update'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-6636718412580419893</id><published>2008-06-14T19:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:25:01.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I would like to believe I am going to make it past 27. &lt;div&gt;I'd like to think someday I will find true love again and share a home with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somedays I would like to have some sort of structure to my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I could say what I mean to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/7689089079007456360-6636718412580419893?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/6636718412580419893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=6636718412580419893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6636718412580419893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6636718412580419893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-would-like-to-believe-i-am-going-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-3227705389906218776</id><published>2008-05-26T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:41:27.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back on the Market</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Okay, so I just woke up and realized how pathetic I am.  Minus the douchbag from work I dated three years ago, I have been "single" for over 4 years now and almost 5. So to be honest, I'm not sure that I even know how to be in relationship anymore. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Anyways, I'm in a new town and starting a new life for myself...and figure what the hell, I am back on the market. I guess. Well, not to say that I ever wasn't, but I'll keep my options a little more open now. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;So that's my update from out of nowhere. I am feeling optimistic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-3227705389906218776?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/3227705389906218776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=3227705389906218776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3227705389906218776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3227705389906218776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/05/back-on-market.html' title='Back on the Market'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-3038003455035614436</id><published>2008-05-18T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:00:32.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Fall in Love With Their Ears</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SBuM8HaquPM&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SBuM8HaquPM&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/7689089079007456360-3038003455035614436?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/3038003455035614436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=3038003455035614436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3038003455035614436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3038003455035614436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/05/women-fall-in-love-with-their-ears.html' title='Women Fall in Love With Their Ears'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-1045196561519807141</id><published>2008-04-08T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:43:09.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Phoenix/Vegas Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My $800 trip to Vegas .........Expensive, but most definitely worth it :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A0_uvV5c3Os"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A0_uvV5c3Os" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8OhMsKFdvYU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8OhMsKFdvYU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vPPXF9PEP3U&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vPPXF9PEP3U&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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/7689089079007456360-1045196561519807141?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/1045196561519807141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=1045196561519807141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/1045196561519807141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/1045196561519807141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-phoenixvegas-vacation.html' title='My Phoenix/Vegas Vacation'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4356287631923510015</id><published>2008-03-17T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:33:04.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Warrensburg</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;at the right time of the day, warrensburg can be an interesting town. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;old men in top hats with cameras, dressed from the 70's. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;it has it's quarks. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;chinese restaurants and owners that remember you and never fail to ask how your day was. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;photo students taking pictures downtown. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;old people sitting in their wheelchairs, sitting close to pine street but far enough away only to get a taste of warrensburg's youth. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the youth they once had. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;young, odd, mismatched couples sitting on benches in front of the courthouse. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the warm weather that brings them out form hiding. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the smell of college students bbq'ing throughout the town, with loud music constantly echoing throughout. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;live bands outside my bedroom window at east pine pub, blending with johnny's wild crew. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the youth, in general. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;and people that like to party. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;lots of cats and lots of creepers. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;every bars uniqueness that attracts it's own group of people. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;and the few unique people you will find there. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the teachers that admire their students.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;and the teachers that don't care.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;and the one's you occasionally see at the bar. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the freshmen that dress in their finest to go to lowclass bars. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the people that are always looking. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;the train. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;oh god, the train. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4356287631923510015?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4356287631923510015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4356287631923510015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4356287631923510015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4356287631923510015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/03/warrensburg.html' title='Warrensburg'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-7589908565702154268</id><published>2008-02-05T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:07:08.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Psychoanalyze Yourself :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;With the first Psychoanalyze Yourself; Don't read ahead, just answer the following questions thought that comes to mind. Then read which each answer means at the end. (No cheating! )&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;DONT READ AHEAD!!!! just copy and paste then go through and answer the questions.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;Here Goes:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;1. You are walking in the woods. You are not alone. Who is with you? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;MOLLY AND ZOE&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;2. You are walking in the woods. You see an animal. What kind of animal? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;ELEPHANT&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;3. What interaction takes place between you and the animal? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;I PET IT. TALK TO IT..YOU KNOW. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;4. You walk deeper in the woods. You enter a clearing, and before you is your dream house. how big is it?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;IT'S NOT TOO BIG. JUST BIG ENOUGH FOR ME AND ALL MY PETS. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;5. Is your dream house surrounded by a fence? how big is the yard?? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;YES, THERE IS A FENCE. I CAN'T LET ALL MY ANIMALS RUN FREE. THE YARD IS GIGANTIC. IT'S LIKE A FIELD-YARD. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;6. You enter the house. You walk into the dining room and see the dining table , what is on it?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;PAPERS, MY LAPTOP..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;7. You exit the house and a cup is on the ground, what kind is it?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;A WINE GLASS&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;8. what do you do with the cup? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;PICK IT UP AND SEE IF THERE IS A SIP LEFT IN IT&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;9. You walk to the edge of the property where you find yourself standing at the end of a body of water what kind of water is it? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;MOST DEFINITELY THE OCEAN&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;10. How will you cross the water? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;I WON'T CROSS IT, BUT I'LL PADDLE AROUND IN MY LITTLE BOAT FOR A WHILE&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;After you copy and paste into a new bulletin, and answer ALL the questions above you can look down here.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;|&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;v&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;The ANSWERS&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;1. The person who you are walking in the woods with is the most important to you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;MY DOGS? COULD BE TRUE. LOL. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;2. The size of the animal is representative of your perception of the size of your problems in your life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;THE SIZE OF AN ELEPHANT! AWESOME. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;3. The severity of the interaction you have with the animal is representative of how you deal with your problems.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;I PET THEM? TALK TO THEM?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;4. The size of your dream home is representative of the size of your ambition to solve your problems.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;SO MY AMBITION ISN'T GIGANTIC..BUT JUST ENOUGH!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;5. A lack of a fence is indicative of an open personality. People are welcome at all times. The presence of a fence indicates a closed personality. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;HMM...TRUE &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;6. If your answer did NOT include food, flowers, or people, then you are generally happy&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;OKAY...SO I HAVE A LOT OF BIG PROBLEMS...BUT ARE GENERALLY HAPPY! IRONICALLY, THAT IS TRUE :) &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;7. The durability of the material that the cup is made of is representative of the perceived durability of your relationship.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;GLASS? NOT SO DURABLE... GOOD THING I'M NOT IN ANY RELATIONSHIPS I GUESS&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;8. What you did with the cup is representative of your attitude.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;...EVERY LAST SIP&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;9. The size of the body of water is representative of the size of your sexual desire.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;DAMN... REALLY? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;10. The way you cross the water is representative to how easy or hard you expect your life to be.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;SO I JUST PADDLE AROUND THROUGH MY LIFE A BIG...FAIR ENOUGH :)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;SO...THAT WAS FUN.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-7589908565702154268?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/7589908565702154268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=7589908565702154268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7589908565702154268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7589908565702154268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/02/psychoanalyze-yourself.html' title='Psychoanalyze Yourself :)'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4206959200204490466</id><published>2008-01-05T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:40:32.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts For 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 2.0px 4.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; background-color: #dcdcdc; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I found this on the internet somewhere :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 2.0px 4.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; background-color: #dcdcdc; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 4px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Arial; background-color: rgb(220, 220, 220); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Thoughts for 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 8.&lt;/b&gt; Life is sexually transmitted.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 7.&lt;/b&gt; Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 6. &lt;/b&gt;Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 5. &lt;/b&gt;Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 4.&lt;/b&gt; Some people are like a Slinky ... not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you shove them down the stairs.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 3.&lt;/b&gt; All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 2.&lt;/b&gt; Why does a slight tax increase cost you $200.00 and a substantial tax Cut saves you $0.30?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Number 1.&lt;/b&gt; In the '60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world Is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4206959200204490466?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4206959200204490466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4206959200204490466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4206959200204490466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4206959200204490466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/01/thoughts-for-2008.html' title='Thoughts For 2008'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-6352324404690839549</id><published>2008-01-01T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:05:56.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:13px;"&gt;so it's officially a new year...and i am going to "ramble on" about it for a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 13px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 13px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first. my body has been starting to feel like a wasteland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*wasteland: an uninhabited wilderness that is worthless.---&gt;okay, i don't really feel quite that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the point of this is....as i've been getting older, more problems with myself and body arise, and i want to get back to where i was before it gets harder to deal with. it's about starting to take care of and renewing myself. this has recently become really important to me within the past several weeks. in 5 months i will be done with school for good and ready to start a "brand new life"...and i want to start it off feeling "well". i feel like i haven't had a "big change" in awhile....and right now i need one and to get myself back in line. it's time for another new beginning, soo...what better time than now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i probably, generally, wouldn't take the time to share this....but i think that if i share what i am trying to do, it will be easier to stick to. if i keep it to myself, and fail...no harm done. so now that you all know, you can call me a liar if this doesn't really happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my new years resolution:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) successfully quit smoking...for real this time.&lt;br /&gt;2) no more eating meat.&lt;br /&gt;3) drink 10 times more water than i drink now. basically, a whole lotta watta!&lt;br /&gt;4) begin exercising again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think this idea/resolution/plan is probably absolutely typical, but it's for a good cause so i don't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am not doing it for anyone else. and it's not about weight or anything like that. when i say i want to stop eating meat, it's not to purposely cut out a food group to eat less. the toxins in meat can do a lot of damage, and also can eventually cause colon cancer. just a quick fact: dioxin is one of the deadliest toxins, and is concentrated in meat levels at 22 times what are safe!! there are other reasons it's not safe, but i won't blab on about it, i imagine you get the point. i just don't want that in my body anymore. it's time to take care of and cleanse my body. and speaking of "cleanse", i think eventually in the year i will do an "actual" body cleanse. such as a whole body detox or colon cleanse. everyone should. and as for exercise, it is about getting fit again, but more importantly about healing. does this sound weird for someone my age to already be thinking about this? i don't know? okay, okay. so i am done talking about that!! i am probably starting to bore you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new topic...but leading into the same topic:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have turned into a youtube maniac lately. it is my by-far-favorite website right now. honestly, i will be up until early in the morning watching peoples ridiculous videos. i have no idea how it happens either. i just can't stop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is badass "where did these people come from" musicians, amazing choreographers, people with very interesting ideas....etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i feel weird sometimes for getting so involved in some of these people's lives....but they are sharing it.....so i guess that's the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching all of these vidoes make me miss the days where i aspired to be a "brilliant dancer" and the girl-next-door who played guitar and sang. so....i am thinking about picking up the guitar again? i sold mine to my grandpa, an amazing musician, a year or two ago....and i think i may try and buy it back. i would just buy a new one, but this guitar was soo, so, so beautiful. and as for dancing, i am still taking classes every week...but i have been so lazy with it...so i think it's time to step back up and get with the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so..leading back to my resolution!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't think anyone knows how excited i am about doing this more than i do.  i NEVER, ever make new years resolutions...but this, as i said, has become really important to me. this year is calling for a lot of life changing experiences. for once, i am excited about the future...and if i can just pull myself back together and gain control back over my life again it will make it that much better. i think maybe there is more to my plan than quiting smoking and drinking a lot of water. somehow i managed to lose myself this past year...i made a lot of mistakes, and it's time to start over..again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did you make it to the end?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-6352324404690839549?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/6352324404690839549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=6352324404690839549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6352324404690839549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6352324404690839549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008.html' title='2008'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-7717608999399960432</id><published>2007-12-28T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T10:11:43.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay Sweaters, Anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K4KR2RxxhzA&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K4KR2RxxhzA&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-7717608999399960432?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/7717608999399960432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=7717608999399960432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7717608999399960432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7717608999399960432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/12/gay-sweaters-anyone.html' title='Gay Sweaters, Anyone?'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-8132874756028622645</id><published>2007-12-20T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:02:52.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GAH!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;fake?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;conceited?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;rude and uncaring? selfish?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;close minded?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;don't listen?: so into yourself that you can only hear the words that come out of your own mouth.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;argue for the sake of it? &lt;span style="font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"&gt;temperamental?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;sycophant?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;if you fit into any of these characteristics, please stop. you are giving me a headache. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Verdana"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8132874756028622645?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8132874756028622645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8132874756028622645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8132874756028622645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8132874756028622645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/12/gah.html' title='GAH!'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4085642589278818177</id><published>2007-11-27T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T11:50:46.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Never Come Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;when the music's turned up like that, all i can think about is dancing. just that sort of music makes me want to find you. i wanna pick you up. pick you up, and dance. here and now, in the middle of the floor. and then i want to crash on my bed and fall asleep and not have to worry about my day, the rest of the week, or what comes next. i wanna smoke. because when i smoke, my smokes so sweet. sweet like nostalgia. i inhale like flying. i'll never come down. i wanna drink it down, but i can't cause my mind has to be someplace else for now. i need someone to take me away from here... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4085642589278818177?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4085642589278818177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4085642589278818177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4085642589278818177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4085642589278818177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/11/ill-never-come-down.html' title='I&apos;ll Never Come Down'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-665190755005470782</id><published>2007-10-26T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T23:42:10.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am an INFP!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Dude, this was pretty much dead on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;INFP's are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity. They are often misunderstood by those they incarnate with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;INFPs are known to be the gentle poets of the Universe. They are quiet, creative, and perceptive souls who often strike others as shy, reserved and cool. They have a rare capacity for deep caring and commitment--both to the people and causes they idealise. INFPs guide their behavior by a strong inner sense of values, rather than by convential logic and reason. Forced to cope with this facts-and-figures 'real' world we inhabit, INFPs may appear to have been imported from another galaxy! They gravitate toward creative careers which allow them to use their instinctive sense of empathy. Usually spiritual or philosophical people, INFPs may see the purpose of their lives as an inner journey, quest or personal unfolding. More practical or rational types may tend to discredit the INFP's sources or understanding as mystical. The search for a soulmate is a preoccupation for many INFPs, who must balance their need for privacy and peace with their yearning for human connection. If there seems to be an air of sadness INFP's spirit, blame it on this type's longing for the perfect in all things. Artistic and creative, INFPs live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. INFPs are usually talented writers. They may be awkard and uncomfortable with expressing themselves verbally, but have a wonderful ability to define and express what they're feeling on paper. They are also gifted at interpreting symbols - being drawn to metaphors and similes. Because of these gifts they often write in lyric fashion. INFPs often think of several things at once and because of this are sometimes labeled as absentminded. They try to read between the lines, not accepting things at face value. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;INFPs are very aware of their own space, and the space of others. They value their personal space, and the freedom to do their own thing. They will cherish the mate who sees the INFP for who they are, and respects their unique style and perspectives. The INFP is not likely to be overly jealous or possessive, and is likely to respect their mate's privacy and independence. In fact, the INFP is likely to not only respect their mate's perspectives and goals, but to support them with loyal firmness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Although two well-developed individuals of any type can enjoy a healthy relationship, INFP's natural partner is the ENFJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;, or the ESFJ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;  INFP's dominant function of Introverted Feeling is best matched with a partner whose dominant function is Extraverted Feeling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Find out what you are (Myers-Briggs Typology)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/mbtiquiz/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;http://www.blogthings.com/mbtiquiz/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-665190755005470782?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/665190755005470782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=665190755005470782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/665190755005470782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/665190755005470782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-infp.html' title='I am an INFP!'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-3210306447620476782</id><published>2007-09-17T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:28:07.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Beach"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;"I just feel like everyone tries to do something different, but you always wind up doing the same damn thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;img src="webkit-fake-url://8D9C3492-8081-42FE-B4C2-A2D037A418AF/thebeach.jpg" alt="thebeach.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-3210306447620476782?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/3210306447620476782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=3210306447620476782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3210306447620476782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/3210306447620476782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/09/beach.html' title='&quot;The Beach&quot;'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-2820538215769043676</id><published>2007-08-28T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:49:01.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Apartment Rules</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12px; "&gt;what's left in the fridge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;with the rise of the sun&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;is now a donation to apartment 206's fun&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;you can pass out on the sofa&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;but you better keep it clean&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;cause if things get x-rated&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;steven will get mean &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;have all the fun you want&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;but please don't make a mess&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;thanks from the management-liz, steven &amp;amp; jess&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Be Continued....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-2820538215769043676?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/2820538215769043676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=2820538215769043676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/2820538215769043676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/2820538215769043676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-apartment-rules.html' title='New Apartment Rules'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-5513860874713529904</id><published>2007-03-26T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T23:44:40.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"If you want something badly set it free.  If it comes back to you, it's yours forever.  If not, it was never yours to begin with."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 5.0px 0.0px 5.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-5513860874713529904?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/5513860874713529904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=5513860874713529904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5513860874713529904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5513860874713529904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-8765528013354359355</id><published>2007-03-14T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T10:17:50.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Video!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/htsf09w9JSQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/htsf09w9JSQ&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8765528013354359355?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8765528013354359355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8765528013354359355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8765528013354359355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8765528013354359355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-first-video.html' title='My First Video!'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4813894327276786056</id><published>2007-02-28T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:51:20.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a dream lastnight...</title><content type='html'>I was on a dating show.  I met three guys and had to pick one to take me out on a date.  It was a tough decision between two of them, but I picked one, and he was the love of my life.  Turns out, he was the devil. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4813894327276786056?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4813894327276786056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4813894327276786056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4813894327276786056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4813894327276786056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-had-dream-lastnight.html' title='I had a dream lastnight...'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-7119493454709386485</id><published>2007-02-17T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:26:00.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The College Life</title><content type='html'>I love Saturday morning class.  Hungover and tired and running on a maximum of 3 hours of sleep.  Wonderful.  I took a NoDoz.  Today I shouldn't have.  I am sick to my stomach.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talked to my roomate today.  Said she hooked up with one of my friends last night.  I missed out on that one.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully this second hour will go by faster than the first one.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, it's cold outside.  A cigarette may warm me up.  No, it will make me throw up.  Speaking of, I wonder what _______ is doing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-7119493454709386485?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/7119493454709386485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=7119493454709386485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7119493454709386485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7119493454709386485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2007/02/college-life.html' title='The College Life'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-8273546423469706649</id><published>2006-10-12T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:46:31.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>21</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;21.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;New beginnings. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A bottle of wine.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new buzz.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A 9 ball.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Japanese flowers.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A piercing pain.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Butterfly ring. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;She spreads her wings.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;She said start over.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Ready. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Set. Go.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A ticket for a plane.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A year at a time. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A year at a place. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A year to wait. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Great remembrance.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Over. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Anticipation, Gone.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Excitement, Begin.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;I will start over.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Beginning now. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Forget you, remember me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Who am i? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Explore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;No baggage. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Forget you, and forget me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Forget who I was.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Erase. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A search for clear.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Clean water.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new that nobody knows. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Fresh water.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;From a place i've never dreamed. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A place to claim. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Salt water and sand.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new mind.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new memory.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;Erase the old.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new birth.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.7px Verdana"&gt;A new beginning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8273546423469706649?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8273546423469706649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8273546423469706649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8273546423469706649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8273546423469706649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/10/21.html' title='21'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-7903295788960552910</id><published>2006-07-21T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:33:31.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>?????</title><content type='html'>I may be slightly tipsy tonight, but I feel like writing words...so you can take it...or you can leave it :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is so much inside of me that I want to say, but I can never find the words for the way I feel--so I say nothing.  And I have said nothing for far too long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am always at a loss for words.  Why can't I speak?  My mind is so cluttered.  I am mute, observing...daydreaming...of things that will never, ever happen.  And it is driving me crazy.  I don't want to dream anymore, unless I can spend the rest of my life dreaming. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to be able to write, I can't even do that anymore.  I feel, my words are just words.  You can read the words that I write--but you can't feel them.  They will never make you feel how I feel.  How do you make someone understand, or feel as deeply?  Would you even want to?  You are reading this right now, but you have no idea because can't see through it.  I will write it out, but you will only ever see the words.  So what's my reason?  Myself?  Why do I even bother trying to put my shoes on your feet?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so deep.  I swear.  I am slowly unraveling.  All of a sudden I feel like I have never been myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't even know what it feels like to be me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look in the mirror, and I can't even see myself.  I mean, physically, I can--a mess of hair and blank eyes.  But there is nothing inside.  How can you possibly know yourself one day, and forget the next?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't find the energy to move my feet from the ground...and it's all I want.  I just want to be able to move. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was fine when I woke up today.  I can't figure out what has triggered me to see everything so different so abruptly.  Perhaps I just stepped outside of "my world" for a second and back into the "real world".  I am pretty sure I would like to go back where I came from.  I don't like feeling this way--alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so stuck in memories and can't let go of anything.  How do you forget so easily?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am way too young to have fallen as hard as I have...and way to young to not be able to move on from it.  How can it be so easy for people to start over?  I have tried, believe me.  And it is ironic, because I love change...but in this situation, I can't bring myself there.  Some days I want to stay here, just waiting.  Others, I want to live...outside of it.  Move on from it, in search for something different.  But whenever something different comes around, I run from it.  I know what I want, and I don't want anything else.  I can't explain it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Philosophy:&lt;/span&gt;  We may try to move on, but the past will always remain--whether it daunts us or keeps us alive.  We are always waiting.  And hoping for that moment of happiness to trickle in and for satisfaction to return again.  Our lives are made of dreams that we cannot help but stay alive for--to live them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it okay to walk away from the things that make us cry...or make us smile?  Is it okay to in a moment and not say a word?  There is so much I want to say...about the things that change me.  But I stay silent and walk away...when really, I just want to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are all searching for what makes everything "okay".  We may have found, and lost.  I watched.  I never slipped...but apparently, I am gone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-7903295788960552910?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/7903295788960552910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=7903295788960552910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7903295788960552910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7903295788960552910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/07/blog-post.html' title='?????'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-8457573446241143055</id><published>2006-05-01T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T10:12:37.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetness!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I randomly entered a picture of mine into the art show at Longview...and they ended up buying it for $250!! How the heck did that happen? Anyway, fine by me! ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j303/feel_my_dance/ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j303/feel_my_dance/ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlove.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8457573446241143055?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8457573446241143055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8457573446241143055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8457573446241143055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8457573446241143055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/05/may-1-2006.html' title='Sweetness!'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-8513886329211323824</id><published>2006-04-13T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:31:13.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A True Crisis</title><content type='html'>There is a spider that has been hanging out on my ceiling, above my bed, for almost THREE days now.  I don't know how to go about getting rid of him, because quite frankly I am terrified of the thing.  I just keep watching him.  I wake up in the middle of the night and make sure he is still there.  This spider is driving me absolutely nuts.  And to make matters worse, I now have a wasp that slipped into my apartment to join the party.  What to do, what to do.... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-8513886329211323824?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/8513886329211323824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=8513886329211323824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8513886329211323824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/8513886329211323824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/04/true-crisis.html' title='A True Crisis'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-5949560169249916531</id><published>2006-04-10T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:57:39.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum</title><content type='html'>I have spaghetti, but no spaghetti sauce.  I have pizza sauce, but no pizza.  I think I will fix my spaghetti with pizza sauce.  Super. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-5949560169249916531?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/5949560169249916531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=5949560169249916531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5949560169249916531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5949560169249916531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/04/yum.html' title='Yum'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-874303652199985618</id><published>2006-04-06T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T22:41:58.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So...April's here and this is my last month of living in Kansas City.  It just hit me today, that I'm kind of sad to be leaving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial; min-height: 11.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial; min-height: 11.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'll miss my drives to school and mornings when Longview Lake is covered with fog, or evenings when the sun sets over the lake...taking pictures of that lake.  Or always being mesmorized every time I pass the most beautiful pasture I've ever seen.  Exploring Kansas City and the small towns around it...always finding some place new and beautiful.  I remember one time I kept driving down "Red Bridge Road"...past the red bridge, and then came to this amazing park that was literally covered with geese.  I'll miss passing "the old lady" waiting for the bus in the afternoon...who once, on Valentines Day waved to me.  I'll miss listening to the cars speeding down the highway at night when I'm going to bed.  I'll miss my yellow apartment, and all the stray cats that hang around it.  I'll miss good restraunts, like the Mongolian Grill.  I'll miss breaking the speed limit everyday, just because I've found out I can get away with it.  I'll miss the variety of people I see everyday that you don't normally see in small towns.  The friendly mexicans at the 7-11 where I buy my cigarettes at.  Being able to buy groceries at a different place every time I need something.  Target.  I'll miss taking Yoga classes with all of the old ladies...wondering if someday I'll be one of them.  I'll miss having a fireplace in my room.  Watching stupid shows like Blind Date or Elimadate late at night when I can't go to bed. On weekends, hearing my neighbors loud music through the walls throughout the entire night.  I may even miss the days when I had a roomate to go swim or play tennis with at the apartment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Anyways, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hasta La Vista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; KC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-874303652199985618?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/874303652199985618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=874303652199985618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/874303652199985618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/874303652199985618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/04/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-6345908718089334372</id><published>2006-03-17T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T22:53:49.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wonderful Spring Break</title><content type='html'>There is something funny about getting fast food on Bannister Road.  It has happened twice now that I have gotten more money back than I was suppose to at Wendys.  And then tonight at Taco Bell, I got a kids meal and asked if I could get nachos instead of cinnamon twists.  The guy told me "no, it comes with cinnamon twists--not nachos".  But when I got my food, I had nachos and cinnamon twists--no extra charge!  As long as I live in this place, I will no longer get fast food anywhere else but Bannister Road.  Even if it is ghettoville. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there are 2 more days left of Spring Break.  And for the most part it has been pretty predictable.  Me and Zoe both had doctors appointments--neither with good news.  She is overweight (no more table scraps for her), and well, I have my own problems.  I feel I have been to the doctor too often lately.  Most of the time I don't even know why I am even there.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But anywho.  Me and Taryn did have one fun day at Wal-Mart though.  We bought ourselves a ridiculous leopard shawl for 3 bucks just to take ridiculous pictures in to hopefully someday look back on and laugh our asses off at what dorks we were.  Taryn also managed to get a brush severely tangled in her hair over break.  Of course, I came to the rescue...and like a pro, I cut the brush right out.  I also let Zoe inside to play during a storm, which is against strict family rules..."No Monsters Inside The House".  Luckily, she was on her best behavior and no real damage was done. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's all my friends.  To all those springbreakers hanging out on the beach sipping on fruity mixed drinks out of a coconut with a fancy straw and umbrella...I hate you :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-6345908718089334372?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/6345908718089334372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=6345908718089334372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6345908718089334372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6345908718089334372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-wonderful-spring-break.html' title='My Wonderful Spring Break'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4742262182439182835</id><published>2006-02-22T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:34:46.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life</title><content type='html'>Five minutes ago I was sitting in the shower (yes), thinking.  You know, when your mind is going crazy with thoughts and you want to remember everything but don't have a pen and paper in hand so you keep going over the things in your head over and over.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after driving myself insane with all of these random thoughts that mean so much (but not really), I got out of the shower and now here I sit, dripping wet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized today, how blind I really am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart can feel everything, but my eyes pretend to not see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to see the sun rise in a different country. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is truth...and why can't I know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to feel the feeling that a mother feels when she first sees her newborn child.  An no, I am not saying I want to make babies tomorrow.  I just want to feel that sort of love someday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then again...the thought is almost chilling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to feel again what it is like to wake up in the morning lying beside the person you love and know that everything is the way it should be.  To feel what it is like to spend my every waking moment enjoying who I am, where I am at, and what I do.  I want people to see me as I am without hiding.  I don't want to feel I've made any mistakes or wrong decisions.  I am ready to grow up.  I feel like I am living a life so childishly right now...in my own little world of dreams and pretend.  I don't want to live this lie forever.  And I don't want to be the girl with a lot of big dreams and no action.  But right now, that is all I am.  Always imagining these things and ideas...but secretly wondering...just wondering?  I feel I am just some lost woman in the middle of this huge world and doesn't even know where to start the journey.  I mean, I do know...but...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Conclusion.  I feel like I'm a broken record. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I wish I could just turn off my mind.  I think way too much.  I keep thinking...and thinking...and before I know it, I will have spent my whole life--just thinking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have hope that someday I will do something about the things that beat on my head everyday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my life feels like a movie.  Do you ever have that feeling?  I always kind of watch my life as it's happening like that I guess.  Today, as a viewer, I am quite disappointed.  I hope someday I will wake up from all of this nonsense.  I am just one sappy actress is one never-ending sappy, pathetic movie.  I just keep wishin' for a fairytell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4742262182439182835?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4742262182439182835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4742262182439182835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4742262182439182835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4742262182439182835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-life-is-movie.html' title='My Life'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-6030516452678399000</id><published>2006-02-06T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:53:31.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Locks of Love, Baby</title><content type='html'>I have sent my hair off to someone who needed it more than I.  Of course I have captured my last moments with my no longer attached 11 inches.  It was kind of sad, but I'm over it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ib_b9zZb_rk/SDuBi3lIuZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/BBd9eOb8mj4/s320/hair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204896230391986578" /&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/7689089079007456360-6030516452678399000?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/6030516452678399000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=6030516452678399000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6030516452678399000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/6030516452678399000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/02/locks-of-love-baby.html' title='Locks of Love, Baby'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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/_ib_b9zZb_rk/SDuBi3lIuZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/BBd9eOb8mj4/s72-c/hair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689089079007456360.post-1205934170259870509</id><published>2006-01-04T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T21:15:50.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lifted</title><content type='html'>I don't think I have ever been in such a positive mood.  I had wild dreams last night.  I woke up this morning remembering them and felt happy and not so afraid anymore, because I know that everything will be okay--and what's meant to be, will be.  In my heart, I know what's meant to be.  I don't have to be afraid of things not working out, because it will, even if it takes time--and I have patience.  I feel like I know what I am suppose to do, where I need to be, and what's going to happen--and it will.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But most of all, I figured out what I am going to spend this year doing.  (But it's a secret).  I wish I could better describe how I feel.  I'm lifted--and my minds spinning.  I can hardly keep up.  Could it be the combination of Vitamin B and St. Johns Wort that I took lastnight...and again this morning with a NoDoz?  If so, I recommend it to everyone in the world.  I can't even think straight now I have so many ideas and plans running through my head.  I just keep writing.  I don't even know how long I wrote this morning--I just want to keep writing and writing.  Maybe a book or something.  I have two weeks of free time until school starts.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I am on a quest.  I bought a canvas to paint on this week, a new notebook, and I've got a camera and one roll of film.  I'm leaving a taking pictures--pictures that I have always wanted to take but never had the energy or motivation to get out and do.  I can't wait.  I am going to blow them up and hang them all over my apartment to remember this feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. Euphoria. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-1205934170259870509?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/1205934170259870509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=1205934170259870509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/1205934170259870509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/1205934170259870509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2006/01/lifted.html' title='Lifted'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-4488418273684227776</id><published>2005-04-27T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T11:36:31.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At The Wheel</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i was driving home on the highway this afternoon.  my eyes and mind wander, everywhere but the road.  music can be so hynotising, especially when listened to on a highway that appears endless.  as usual, random thoughts flow through my mind.  certain things i want to remember, but i have no paper. i find a magic marker, and sketch every thought on my hand and arm.  the road becomes invisable to me--until im nearly drifting off it.  cars pass me and im passing cars, i cant tell anymore which is which.  all i know is it doesnt matter.  my desination is home, wherever that is.  i drive closely behind a couple.  i can see and feel their closeness through the back windshield and it makes me sick and angry with envy.  i turn up the volume (led zeppelin--tangerine is now playing on the radio), prop my leg up on the door, light a cigarette and roll down the window. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-4488418273684227776?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/4488418273684227776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=4488418273684227776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4488418273684227776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/4488418273684227776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2005/04/at-wheel.html' title='At The Wheel'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-5043776467380048667</id><published>2005-04-15T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T11:44:48.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is How I Feel Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i remember being younger, playing around in a world that doesnt exist. i had dreams that went on forever. i was going to be a a singer, ballerina, and on tv. i grew up, and those dreams faded away. i got caught up in what was expected of me. in school i would doodle and daydream, id write about love and what it felt like. id create the perfect man.  i was always misunderstood, the dreams i did have were never logical to anyone but me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;well, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i still think about them--and maybe someday... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;for now, im just waiting until the moment comes. dont tell me, "thats what they all say"...because i wont allow myself to live like this forever. ive been moving around lately from place to place, but its never been far enough. i drive and explore, i get lost sometimes. every now and then i think about how fun it would be to just wake up and drive to where i belong. im getting ready to move again, and get a degree in the only thing i understand. art. im passionate about art, and i wish everyone could see the things i see. lately things havent been so easy, circumstances have put me down. sometimes i think how nice it would be if i just didnt know, the things ive found out. ive put myself here though, and someday ill go back where i started. another month of school and summer will be here. ill mostly be working, to pay the bills that will come again in august. but i want to go somewhere and i have a few ideas running through my head. i do need to get away, and out of here for a moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;anytime i can leave and see something new, my dreams become clearer--and i need that right now. i wish i could turn back time 10 years, and start over from there. as ive grown older, i have become so molded and lost sight of who i am. or maybe i am who i am, and i just regret it. i know what its like to be truely happy, and i know what its like to be truely sad. right now im just floating in the middle, i understand things arent the way i ever imagined them to be right now--but i also know that eventually ill know what it feels like again to be living on the other side. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-5043776467380048667?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/5043776467380048667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=5043776467380048667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5043776467380048667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/5043776467380048667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2005/04/this-is-how-i-feel-today.html' title='This Is How I Feel Today'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</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-7689089079007456360.post-7876896706830301975</id><published>2000-01-07T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T21:29:10.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wrote this back in the year 2000.  Please take that into consideration. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Ideal Guy (if there is such thing):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1.  Someone that calls you at night just before you are about to go to sleep (and he somehow already knows exactly when that is) just to say goodnight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2.  Someone romantic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3.  Intelligent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;4.  Someone who will watch romance movies with you.  With popcorn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;5.  Someone who truly cares about your feelings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;6.  Someone to go to the mall with on a rainy day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;7.  Blue eyes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;8.  Someone who cares more than just about "getting some". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;9.  Someone to help you with your homework when you get stuck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;10.  A best friend, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;11.  Someone who let's me meet their family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;12.  Someone who can make me laugh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;13.  Someone I can wrap my arms around and hold them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;14.  Someone who knows how to brighten my day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;15.  Someone sweet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;16.  Someone who tells you everything themselves, instead of having their friends tell you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;17.  Someone to share a song with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;18.  Someone who will buy you a drink when you are thirsty at the games. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;19.  Someone who offers you their coat when you are cold. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;20.  Someone who talks to you when you are slow dancing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;21.  Someone who gives you a ride to the dances instead of just "meeting you there". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;22.  Someone who is interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;23.  Someone to have pillow fights with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;24.  Someone without a bad temper. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;25.  Someone to be comfortable around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, how simple things once were...... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7689089079007456360-7876896706830301975?l=jessgordon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/feeds/7876896706830301975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7689089079007456360&amp;postID=7876896706830301975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7876896706830301975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7689089079007456360/posts/default/7876896706830301975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jessgordon.blogspot.com/2000/01/this-is-funny.html' title='This is Funny'/><author><name>Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18295198602059097114</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
