<?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-7160652096668586316</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:52:48.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm NOT Who You Think I Am</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>77</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-8155257805904176608</id><published>2008-09-20T23:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T23:18:26.202-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeks Into School</title><summary type='text'>My thoughts right now...you don't want to know what I'm thinking.  School is terrible.  An utter mess.  That's all...nothing more.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8155257805904176608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8155257805904176608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8155257805904176608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8155257805904176608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/09/weeks-into-school.html' title='Weeks Into School'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-164135553679670876</id><published>2008-08-30T04:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T04:32:23.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth</title><summary type='text'>They say you can learn from mistakes.  But why do we continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.  They say god can save us, but how is that possible if there is no proof of his existence.  They say homosexuals are bad, but how do you know that is true?  How is it that people say these things without truth?Truth is a funny thing because there are few things that we know the real truth </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/164135553679670876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=164135553679670876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/164135553679670876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/164135553679670876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/truth.html' title='Truth'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-1383868989832947435</id><published>2008-08-28T13:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T13:13:31.622-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Skool (Purposely Spelled Wrong)</title><summary type='text'>Well, it's inevitable.  School is coming to get me.  Whether I like it or not.  Whether I think it's important or not.  Whether I care or not.  I'll have to go.  Eventually.  I'll have to put up with all my "friends" and my newly ex-boyfriend, the gossip about the break up and the pain, the questions and the answers. As it is known to me in the summer, "Skool" has become something I'm beginning </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1383868989832947435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1383868989832947435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1383868989832947435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1383868989832947435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/skool-purposely-spelled-wrong.html' title='Skool (Purposely Spelled Wrong)'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-7186828974926292417</id><published>2008-08-24T13:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T13:40:26.214-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Can't You Leave Me Alone?</title><summary type='text'>Everywhere I go, there's a reminder, some sort of taunting sign, of my ex-boyfriend.  It's like he surrounds me, even though he's miles away.  It's like I'm seeing things.  His first name suddenly appears everywhere.  Even his first and last initials together.  Songs I listen always seem to fit our situation.  His phone number, his birthday.  Jeez, it's everywhere.  On license plate numbers to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7186828974926292417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7186828974926292417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7186828974926292417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7186828974926292417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-cant-you-leave-me-alone.html' title='Why Can&apos;t You Leave Me Alone?'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3987895836026789936</id><published>2008-08-23T23:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T00:36:48.198-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes</title><summary type='text'>Sometimes, I lie on my bed in the dark and stare at the ceiling.  Sometimes, I wish that I could go back and change all the things I've screwed up.  Sometimes, I wish a lot of things and do a lot of things.  But I can't.  Sometimes, it seems hopeless to me.And sometimes, I hope, that for once I'll get what I really want.  Sometimes I wish that I wasn't still in love with my ex-boyfriend.  But he </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3987895836026789936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3987895836026789936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3987895836026789936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3987895836026789936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-5473947284920913663</id><published>2008-08-23T03:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T04:07:50.372-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Long Summer</title><summary type='text'>Summer is coming to an end.  A very sad end.  Not sad because I don't want to go to school, but sad because I didn't really enjoy it except for the short three weeks I spent with some friends.   It's too bad that all good things come to an end because if good things didn't end, I'd be a very happy person right now.But that's okay.  It's my last year in this school.  I've got nothing left to lose </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/5473947284920913663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=5473947284920913663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5473947284920913663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5473947284920913663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-long-summer.html' title='So Long Summer'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-529796871949345585</id><published>2008-08-21T23:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T23:46:18.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Want</title><summary type='text'>What I want is probably also what i need.  And right now, I just need someone to talk to that understands me.  Unfortunately, the only person that does understand me is away right now and there is no easy and fast way to contact her....Kate.I've been feeling a little lost lately.  Feelings and emotions mixed together in a swirl of rage and regret.  I'm confused, but then again, I know exactly </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/529796871949345585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=529796871949345585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/529796871949345585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/529796871949345585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-want.html' title='What I Want'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3483638507048430212</id><published>2008-08-20T22:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T22:17:58.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Be Just Fine Pretending I'm Not</title><summary type='text'>I'll be just fine pretending that I'm not depressed and that I'm not angry at the world.  I'll be just fine that way because no one is going to bother to listen to me.You know, sometimes I think about that car crash that my two friends died in and wish it were me instead because I know that I wouldn't have that big of a loss.  I bet you half of my school wouldn't care.  Their tears wouldn't mean </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3483638507048430212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3483638507048430212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3483638507048430212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3483638507048430212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/ill-be-just-fine-pretending-im-not.html' title='I&apos;ll Be Just Fine Pretending I&apos;m Not'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-1594782536567689492</id><published>2008-08-20T12:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T12:12:58.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hardest Part</title><summary type='text'>The hardest part about breaking up is letting go.  Part of me still wants to love my ex-boyfriend.  That part of me is tell me that I still need him and that life without him is like living a nightmare.  And for a while, it might seem that way.  But really, he shouldn't mean anything to me anymore.  Our time together is over, and perhaps I just need to let go.But then again, letting go of him is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1594782536567689492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1594782536567689492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1594782536567689492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1594782536567689492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/hardest-part.html' title='The Hardest Part'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-9195354792977045548</id><published>2008-08-20T09:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T09:31:59.830-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Name Change</title><summary type='text'>I changed the name of my blog. I think this titles suits me a lot better.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/9195354792977045548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=9195354792977045548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9195354792977045548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9195354792977045548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-name-change.html' title='Blog Name Change'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3454734938927559225</id><published>2008-08-19T14:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:22:04.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Don't, You Don't, You Don't,, You Don't Mean Anything to Me</title><summary type='text'>The title of this post is a Simple Plan lyric from "You Don't Mean Anything."I've been listening to some music lately.  Mostly about heartbreak and being hurt.  This just happened to be one of the songs.  I also have Augustana's "Stars and Boulevards", Papa Roach's "Scars", Blink 182's "Adam's Song", and My Chemical Romance's "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)".Like Keith Urban said about heartbreak in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3454734938927559225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3454734938927559225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3454734938927559225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3454734938927559225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/you-dont-you-dont-you-dont-you-dont.html' title='You Don&apos;t, You Don&apos;t, You Don&apos;t,, You Don&apos;t Mean Anything to Me'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-4489205155752241075</id><published>2008-08-19T10:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T11:00:45.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm NOT Who You Think I Am</title><summary type='text'>No, I'm definitely not who you think I am, now that I really think about what I've been blogging.  Even those of you who really do know me, I am definitely not who you think I am.  There are few who know the real me. The real me, that I manage to cover up for the most part, is a sad little pathetic person.  I have a very hot temper and I'm quick to get angry very, very fast.  Anger management, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4489205155752241075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4489205155752241075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4489205155752241075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4489205155752241075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-not-who-you-think-i-am.html' title='I&apos;m NOT Who You Think I Am'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-8684567936270427619</id><published>2008-08-19T10:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T10:46:57.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Anniversery</title><summary type='text'>Ha, I guess I forgot that I've been blogging for a year already!  On August 4th, that was when I started this blog last year.  Guess I was too wrapped up in other things.  Thanks for reading!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8684567936270427619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8684567936270427619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8684567936270427619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8684567936270427619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-year-anniversery.html' title='One Year Anniversery'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-2115853408451608466</id><published>2008-08-18T09:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T10:27:16.991-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversations with My Best Friend, Part 1</title><summary type='text'>I was sitting at camp one day with my friend.  It was "pool time", but we also had the option of hanging around the area and playing cards.  So, like we've done for so many years, we pulled out decks of cards and played Spit and BS occasionally with other people who cared to play with us."You know, you're not like my other friends at school," my best friend, let's call her Kate, just because I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/2115853408451608466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=2115853408451608466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2115853408451608466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2115853408451608466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/conversations-with-my-best-friend-part.html' title='Conversations with My Best Friend, Part 1'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-4618358588714235558</id><published>2008-08-14T11:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T11:23:32.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Who I Am Today, Part 1</title><summary type='text'>I've decided to take some time and look back what's happened to me over the past couple of years.  These past years have probably been the best and worst years of my life.  The best because I've learned so much and felt so much good emotion and finally established a friend I know I can rely on.  Not to mention that I've made other accomplishments like winning awards and what not.  Maybe the worst</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4618358588714235558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4618358588714235558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4618358588714235558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4618358588714235558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-who-i-am-today-part-1.html' title='Just Who I Am Today, Part 1'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-2952767114321740883</id><published>2008-08-11T22:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:01:54.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My New FanFiction Website</title><summary type='text'>It's my official website for the fanfictions I've written on FanFiction.net.  Please visit it here!http://sites.google.com/site/mynameiscabff/</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/2952767114321740883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=2952767114321740883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2952767114321740883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2952767114321740883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-new-fanfiction-website.html' title='My New FanFiction Website'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-7647396148907173905</id><published>2008-08-01T18:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T18:22:09.001-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Today</title><summary type='text'>You know, just today, I was thinking about my friend's funeral I went to in March.  Now July, that seems like a long time ago, but it really wasn't.  Not when you've lost somebody like that.Now in the warmth of the summer, it's hard not to remember how I stood in the blistering cold for almost four hours for the wake, to bid my friend another goodbye.  I told myself I wouldn't let this goodbye be</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7647396148907173905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7647396148907173905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7647396148907173905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7647396148907173905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-today.html' title='Just Today'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-7659535148065434860</id><published>2008-07-22T20:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T21:06:11.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Through the Summer</title><summary type='text'>I wish so badly that the summer would be over because I'd just like to get back to school and get this year over with.  But I also wish the summer would never end so I wouldn't have to face my ex-boyfriend.  But then again, I just want school to come so I can know that he doesn't think I'm a total bitch or an asshole or whatever. I don't know how this is all going to work out in the end because I</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7659535148065434860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7659535148065434860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7659535148065434860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7659535148065434860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-through-summer.html' title='Getting Through the Summer'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-4682299304097847890</id><published>2008-07-20T18:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:17:32.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Religion</title><summary type='text'>If we had a world with no religion, then a lot of things wouldn't have happened.  It's a very big and very good point Richard Dawkins makes in his book The God Delusion.  Though I have not yet read through it entirely, he's already got it into my head that we would be better off without believing in things like gods and higher powers.If religion didn't exist, then 9/11 would never have happened.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4682299304097847890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4682299304097847890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4682299304097847890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4682299304097847890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-religion.html' title='No Religion'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-4528540030896691420</id><published>2008-07-20T17:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T17:59:39.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting it Together</title><summary type='text'>I'd like to congratulate the Mets on their win against the Cincinnati Reds earlier.  It's quite the miracle right now.  Since I've resorted to them, trying not to think about my old boyfriend who I just broke up with. It's quite amazing, that the Mets have so many flaws, that they can sometimes just pull themselves together.  I wish my life were like that.  Lose a few, but come back anyway and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4528540030896691420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4528540030896691420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4528540030896691420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4528540030896691420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-it-together.html' title='Getting it Together'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-9079831312299872196</id><published>2008-07-20T10:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T11:03:58.648-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Up is Hard To Do</title><summary type='text'>Yea, okay, so my boyfriend and I broke up.  You know, things like this when we're so young don't ever last.  I've pretty much curled up under a rock for most of yesterday.  I'll get over it.  Or maybe guilt will kill me because it was my fault that I screwed it all up.I took the blame.  And it was really my fault anyway.  But people are telling me that I ruined something beautiful, something that</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/9079831312299872196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=9079831312299872196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9079831312299872196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9079831312299872196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/breaking-up-is-hard-to-do.html' title='Breaking Up is Hard To Do'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3654133213468928459</id><published>2008-07-18T22:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T22:20:49.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Real Friend</title><summary type='text'>For so long I've struggled to find people that are really my friends.  I've been let down, back stabbed, betrayed, and spit upon too many times to count.  There are few people that I would even go to in a time of need. As much as I've said that my boyfriend is one of my best friends, he's not my best, best friend.  My best, best friend is someone who is actually a lot like me.  In fact, we have </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3654133213468928459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3654133213468928459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3654133213468928459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3654133213468928459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/real-friend.html' title='A Real Friend'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-106020652358972044</id><published>2008-07-13T20:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:03:26.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking to Myself</title><summary type='text'>I went to the beach today and sat wear the ocean meats the land and let the waves just dab my toes, thinking about random things that probably aren't random at all.  I thought about how beautiful the ocean can be.  It reminded me of a friend I used to have and so I went off thinking about past relationships and the sun was there to cheer me up.Hours must have went by and eventually the tide was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/106020652358972044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=106020652358972044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/106020652358972044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/106020652358972044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/talking-to-myself.html' title='Talking to Myself'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-1166419946986586238</id><published>2008-07-06T00:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T01:18:08.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding God, Love, and Faith</title><summary type='text'>There is a part of me that questions the existence of God.  I have never really been a practicing Catholic like my grandparents and parents.  They have never made me have that faith, although they do push me to believe.  The last time I attended church was for a funeral...and that was not a time to restore and beliefs in some kind of God.  No, not after a life so precious and young had been taken</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1166419946986586238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1166419946986586238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1166419946986586238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1166419946986586238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/07/finding-god-love-and-faith.html' title='Finding God, Love, and Faith'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3055336604873553151</id><published>2008-06-18T17:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T17:58:56.405-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Long, Willie</title><summary type='text'>Goodbye Willie Randolph. Thanks for your time.  Time well wasted.  Yes, I respect you and perhaps part of me does not agree with what has happened, but what have we accomplished?  Nothing.  This is the Mets fan part of me speaking.  Well, if there's any Mets fan left in me.Sure, I'm a Red Sox fan now.  But there will always be apart of me pulling for those Mets because of my family and some other</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3055336604873553151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3055336604873553151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3055336604873553151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3055336604873553151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-long-willie.html' title='So Long, Willie'/><author><name>Lalo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11386658486492412605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ddALfdKF3BE/SKYvcG708FI/AAAAAAAAABE/qrhJzcxB4zU/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-8287526734416524213</id><published>2008-06-13T22:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:11:21.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2008 School Year</title><summary type='text'>Today I stood at my locker, staring at my Red Sox decorations from the fall. For a moment, I stared at them wondering, do I really want to take them down?  Alas, the school year draws to another close for me.  It will be a bittersweet ending and I will really miss my friends.  The summer is spent in another country where my friends aren't.  Now you understand why I hate the summer.But so I'll </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8287526734416524213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8287526734416524213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8287526734416524213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8287526734416524213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/06/goodbye-2008-school-year.html' title='Goodbye 2008 School Year'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-8304712848634888983</id><published>2008-06-05T22:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:28:02.527-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaching Rock Bottom</title><summary type='text'>Don't you ever want to give up sometimes? Aren't there times when you wish that you could just end it all. Ah, perhaps you've thought about wishing that you could just disappear from the terrible situation in. And no, I'm not talking about suicide, so don't think I'm suicidal or anything.But there are times when I feel like I could just shrink into the wall and stay there for eternity because </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8304712848634888983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8304712848634888983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8304712848634888983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8304712848634888983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/06/reaching-rock-bottom.html' title='Reaching Rock Bottom'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-6185595568709557130</id><published>2008-05-28T22:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:28:40.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm Living the Dream"</title><summary type='text'>The Mets just won, bottom of the twelfth and knowing the Mets, it was all or nothin' folks. Lately, I've been following the Red Sox more because of my boyfriend, but watching the Mets tonight against the Marlins rekindled that flame I had for the Mets.Tatis was able to come through with a shot that would drive in Wright and Beltran to win the game. He was just a sub, not even a regular starter, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6185595568709557130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6185595568709557130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6185595568709557130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6185595568709557130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-living-dream.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m Living the Dream&quot;'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-2359747691237720814</id><published>2008-05-27T00:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:28:55.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><summary type='text'>Some people think when Memorial Day weekend comes, Summer has its unofficial start. Personally, I delay summer until it's hitting me in the face or kicking me in the ass. To tell you the honest truth, I'm not a big fan of summer. Summer is when I go away with my family and I see none of my friends.I go outside the US for a month evrery summer. It's no fun to be so far away from friends, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/2359747691237720814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=2359747691237720814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2359747691237720814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/2359747691237720814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/05/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6655657431877593052</id><published>2008-05-26T01:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:29:54.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping</title><summary type='text'>Here I am...unable to sleep again. I can't stand it. Maybe I need help, but I can get some writing out, so it's actually quite productive afterall.Ah, so much has happened over the last few months. And there's so much ahead too. Baseball season, the end of school, summer, and a whole lot more which I'd rather not waste my time talking about. You can build me up, tear me down, but I'll eventually </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6655657431877593052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6655657431877593052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6655657431877593052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6655657431877593052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/05/sleeping.html' title='Sleeping'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3350756252555748701</id><published>2008-04-16T01:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T01:07:31.737-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back</title><summary type='text'>I'm back, just so all of you know.  I'll blog later.  It's late....</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3350756252555748701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3350756252555748701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3350756252555748701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3350756252555748701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/04/back.html' title='Back'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1411605536175651264</id><published>2008-03-30T15:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:30:15.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Bye, For Now</title><summary type='text'>It's been hard the last month for me. I thought I was all right, but I'm really not. Not in a mental sense anyway. So I'm here, to say goodbye, for now at least. I'll be back once in a while. But I don't have the ability to go on right now. Things are too hard after losing two people that you used to see everyday, but now they're gone and when you wish you could say everything you didn't </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1411605536175651264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1411605536175651264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1411605536175651264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1411605536175651264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/03/good-bye-for-now.html' title='Good Bye, For Now'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-7561191495462248046</id><published>2008-03-12T22:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:30:50.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Understand</title><summary type='text'>Are you understood? Well, that could be a very broad question and interperted in many, many different ways. Well, what I mean is that do you know someone who you can connect with, a person who understands you. Someone who will listen no matter how ridiculous the problem or situation might be.Well I realized something. You need somone like that. Drifting in space with no one to be there for you is</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7561191495462248046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7561191495462248046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7561191495462248046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7561191495462248046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/03/understand.html' title='Understand'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3847942563777879841</id><published>2008-03-07T22:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:31:15.881-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone</title><summary type='text'>It's not till you understand the person is really gone. That the person that died is in the casket before you, perhaps it's opened or closed, but that's when it hits you. When you see friends and family crying of the person, people you know and some you don't, it still pains you.I went to my first funeral the other day. I had struggled through the viewing and thought the worst was over, but it </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3847942563777879841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3847942563777879841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3847942563777879841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3847942563777879841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/03/gone.html' title='Gone'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1966708960002269517</id><published>2008-03-02T08:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T08:14:13.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Lost, One Tragedy</title><summary type='text'>Two of my friends from school died a couple days ago after being struck by a car while they were skateboarding.  I wish it wasn't so.  May they rest in peace. Due to this event, I will be away for a while. Thank you...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1966708960002269517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1966708960002269517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1966708960002269517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1966708960002269517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-lost-one-tragedy.html' title='Two Lost, One Tragedy'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1857593119954166144</id><published>2008-02-14T17:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:31:31.425-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day!</title><summary type='text'>Jeez. Today's the day. The day of love, the day of friendship, and the day that is filled with letters, cards, candy, and whatever lovey dovey things you can think ofMy point is, it's Valentine's Day, so give a little bit of your love and time to your friends and tell them that you really care. It doesn't mean you have to go out of your way (though you should sometimes for people you love), but </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1857593119954166144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1857593119954166144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1857593119954166144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1857593119954166144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6117313596913327449</id><published>2008-02-14T16:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T16:57:55.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They Say</title><summary type='text'>They Say I'm wasting timeChasin' after himThat boy I'm in love withThat's all that I live forThey say I'm a foolFor ever lovin' himBecause that he's not worth itOr that there's so much moreWell I sat down todayAnd looked out my doorAnd told myself they were all wrongI'm not wastin' timeThey say I'll never get it rightBut I will, I willI'm not wastin' timeI'll be there standing next himThe day we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6117313596913327449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6117313596913327449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6117313596913327449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6117313596913327449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/02/they-say.html' title='They Say'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-8234018395242015752</id><published>2008-02-03T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T22:25:18.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NY Giants!</title><summary type='text'>Last minute and a touchdown baby!  Superbowl champs all the way!!!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8234018395242015752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8234018395242015752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8234018395242015752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8234018395242015752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/02/ny-giants.html' title='NY Giants!'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3943966776623367444</id><published>2008-01-25T22:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:31:55.495-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Learned from Guys as a Girl</title><summary type='text'>*Note-Please read the previous post before reading this one!That's funny...you wouldn't expect to learn anything from guys except stupid and innappropiate things or how to beat the system and get away with things you shouldn't have done. Oh yes, guys were useful for that stuff because I was a Tomboy. I got along very well with all the Smart/Unsmart Almost Popular guys.That's beside the the point </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3943966776623367444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3943966776623367444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3943966776623367444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3943966776623367444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-i-learned-from-guys-as-girl.html' title='What I Learned from Guys as a Girl'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3734532264510201635</id><published>2008-01-24T22:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:32:13.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Popularity</title><summary type='text'>You see, as I was thinking about the past years, I remembered when I was in between things. Friends and decisions to make. Not quite on one side, and not ready to be on either side.It was the year my best friend abandoned me for a guy...yeah, a guy she broke up with anyway. She tore me apart...piece by piece until I couldn't take it anymore and pushed her away. She did, once, and I just </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3734532264510201635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3734532264510201635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3734532264510201635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3734532264510201635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/01/popularity.html' title='Popularity'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3228786088937030711</id><published>2008-01-22T19:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:18:53.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP-Heath Leadger</title><summary type='text'>Only 28. It's such a shame with so much talent and I loved Brokeback Mountain. May he rest in peace.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3228786088937030711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3228786088937030711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3228786088937030711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3228786088937030711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/01/rip-heath-leadger.html' title='RIP-Heath Leadger'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-9120208903782340173</id><published>2008-01-12T23:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:20:02.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Year Aniversery</title><summary type='text'>A life. So precious. So cared for. And gone within in seconds.Yesterday, January 10th, was the one year anniversery of a car crash in my community. It involved teenagers who had most likely been racing on a major road. One of the cars crashed. Three lives were taken. Gone in fire and flames, into smoke and ashes, and disappeared from the face of the earth as if no more would become of them.A year</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/9120208903782340173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=9120208903782340173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9120208903782340173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9120208903782340173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/01/1-year-aniversery.html' title='1 Year Aniversery'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-394086793634195184</id><published>2008-01-06T22:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:32:55.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Birthday</title><summary type='text'>Well, another year older they say, and my age for now is disclosed to those of you reading, but I'd just like to say that I'm not sure I'm ready to move forward so fast, but then again, I better be because I ain't going to get any younger.There are so many things to cherish when you get older and so many things that leave too, but the things you recieve (and I ain't talking presents) are very </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/394086793634195184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=394086793634195184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/394086793634195184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/394086793634195184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-birthday.html' title='My Birthday'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3032009610852207537</id><published>2007-12-30T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T22:27:08.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 2008</title><summary type='text'>Well, 2008 has finally arrived.  It was saddening to say goodbye to such a wonderful year.  2007 was a year of growth for me with a lot of things.  Starting this blog has helped with my writing.  I've got a boyfriend who I've been spending time with now.  I've also let go of some things that have been bothering me for a while. But I'd just like to wish all of you a happy 2008.  Best wishes, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3032009610852207537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3032009610852207537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3032009610852207537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3032009610852207537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-2008.html' title='Happy 2008'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-7043490770835932693</id><published>2007-12-22T00:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:33:43.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Topic of Love?</title><summary type='text'>My friend has strong opinions about love which I respect and can understan greatly. "Unless you know what you want from that particular person. Loving that person is meaningless." she commented about the post before.I haven't the need to put you down, my friend, but as I said, I believe it is something I can look really deeply into and that's what's keeping my inspirational fire burning right now</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7043490770835932693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7043490770835932693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7043490770835932693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7043490770835932693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/12/topic-of-love.html' title='A Topic of Love?'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-9086862055760088965</id><published>2007-12-15T00:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:34:02.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Loved One for One Million</title><summary type='text'>Would you save millions of others by killing your loved one? Could you bare to only save the two of yourselves and kill off the rest of humanity, or kill that special person and save the rest of the world. Is it immoral to want to save those we hold dear, because they might seem like the only person we have? Or is it politically correct to save those millions we'll never know?I ponder this </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/9086862055760088965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=9086862055760088965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9086862055760088965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9086862055760088965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/12/one-loved-one-for-one-million.html' title='One Loved One for One Million'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6135907760760268963</id><published>2007-12-04T00:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:34:25.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Stand for...</title><summary type='text'>The Holidays draw near. Merry Christmas and happy Hanakkah(sorry about spelling), whatever you may celebrate, I respect that. This also means the end of the year is drawing closer and closer. So let me just think about a few things.I thought this year was going to be the worse. In January, a couple of my friends decided I wasn't worthy of them anymore. I was lost and searching for inspiration </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6135907760760268963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6135907760760268963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6135907760760268963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6135907760760268963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-stand-for.html' title='I Stand for...'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-9073469155247557403</id><published>2007-11-19T22:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:34:44.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfair</title><summary type='text'>Life is truly unfair. I've had that said to me thousands and thousands of times. It just isn't and in reality, it will never be. From our jobs and money, relationships and hopes, dreams and wishes, life decides to be against most of the time. We fight to try to make the best of it, live it and then move on to whatever we ourselves believe in and that's what it seems like. In fact, unfairness </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/9073469155247557403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=9073469155247557403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9073469155247557403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/9073469155247557403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/11/unfair.html' title='Unfair'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3043731302479542690</id><published>2007-11-16T23:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:35:03.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><summary type='text'>It's funny how your views on life can change so quickly. It's like one day you're just sitting with friends at lunch and your like, "Holy crap! I'm lucky to be here!" and you don't say it, but you think it and thank quietly to God that you've got them. You hear about the homeless, the friendless, the people who can't be forgiven, and those who were lost and you tell yourself you're one Goddamn </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3043731302479542690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3043731302479542690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3043731302479542690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3043731302479542690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/11/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6814199659178901307</id><published>2007-10-29T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T00:14:52.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2007 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!</title><summary type='text'>The Bo-Red Sox win it all in 4 games.  Jonathan Paplebon strikes out Smith in the bottom of the ninth, we got Tek jumping into his hrms and us Red Sox fans can't be more happier with that and A-Rod opting out of his NY Yanks deal.  GOOD NIGHT!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6814199659178901307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6814199659178901307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6814199659178901307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6814199659178901307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/2007-world-series-champs.html' title='2007 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-7670739784639671186</id><published>2007-10-28T16:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:35:33.322-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What If</title><summary type='text'>What if the world ended now or was launched into darkness when everything you loved and cared about disappeared and died out. What if that special someone died a tragic death or your best friend abandoned you. What if you justopened your eyes to reality...It seems that people don't acknowledge the whole reality of things to a point where their decisions are based on their insecurity. There's that</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7670739784639671186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7670739784639671186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7670739784639671186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7670739784639671186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-if.html' title='What If'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-903808309523042528</id><published>2007-10-26T23:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:37:31.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Money</title><summary type='text'>It seems no one cares about love or peace or so on because everything seems to revolve around money. Everyone wants to be doctors and lawyers because they are high paying jobs. Where is the happiness? If it's only for the money, you're not living your life up to it's purpose. It's about living it to it's fullest, the goddamn American dream that people forget about. It's never about love, it's </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/903808309523042528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=903808309523042528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/903808309523042528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/903808309523042528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/money.html' title='Money'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-7449938224637600155</id><published>2007-10-23T22:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:38:25.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insecurity, Part 2</title><summary type='text'>I recently had a friend tell me their beliefs in love. How that money factors in a lot and how my current relationship could all factor on money. I chose to disagree, but I'll admit one thing that I'm using insecurity. I'm telling myself that money is worth nothing when in reality, it is even though it's just paper and metal.I'll continue to drive on this insecurity because I'm happy, thought I'm</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7449938224637600155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7449938224637600155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7449938224637600155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7449938224637600155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/insecurity-part-2.html' title='Insecurity, Part 2'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-8206205502937704386</id><published>2007-10-22T22:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:38:05.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Boyfriend</title><summary type='text'>I know I've had a lot about by boyfriend, and I promise that I won't mention him that much after this post. Though I feel that talking about him makes our relationship grow because of the positive feelings we have towards it.You can look at us around our friends. There are things that could possibly link us together as a couple, but most of that stuff is just seen as good friends, best friends. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8206205502937704386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8206205502937704386' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8206205502937704386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8206205502937704386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-boyfriend.html' title='My Boyfriend'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-5400439146831890336</id><published>2007-10-17T23:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:38:54.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Possibilities of Love and My Relationship</title><summary type='text'>There is some point where you can't stop thinking about the person you love and care about. You begin to need them more, have to hear their voice, and you find yourself doing little things just to be around them. Sometimes people take it too far, driving the person to leave them, but that's why you have to have control over your love. Again, love is something we shouldn't take lightly.Yet is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/5400439146831890336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=5400439146831890336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5400439146831890336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5400439146831890336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/possibilities-of-love-and-my.html' title='Possibilities of Love and My Relationship'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6701122814510114217</id><published>2007-10-14T19:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:39:20.084-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions of Love</title><summary type='text'>"WOW! Love is a topic that will be defined and analyzed forever and ever. It is different for everyone and there are many stages of love, as most of us know. It changes as we grow older and wiser; it can be passionate or destructive. I won't go into details; however, much is written about love.When Mother Teresa's "doubts" about God came out just recently, I started to doubt also. She questioned </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6701122814510114217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6701122814510114217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6701122814510114217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6701122814510114217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/questions-of-love.html' title='Questions of Love'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-5414367953937552956</id><published>2007-10-13T22:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:39:56.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Love?</title><summary type='text'>What's Love? Does it exist? Those were questions I had a long time ago. Now I believe that love is something more powerful, maybe something that's the most powerful among everything this world possesses. Until you really truly love someone, then you can't say anything about it. Even after you love someone, you can't explain it.Love is something you can't put into words. No matter how tingly you </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/5414367953937552956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=5414367953937552956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5414367953937552956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5414367953937552956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/whats-love.html' title='What&apos;s Love?'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-4881480924742453451</id><published>2007-10-12T23:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:18:21.795-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 39th B-Day Hugh!</title><summary type='text'>Today is Hugh's 39th Birthday. He's currently in his home country, Australia, finishing up filming for Australia. Though he's had some time for charity like Bone Marrow donations and with Breast Cancer Awarness month, he and his wife, Deb have happily helped for the cause. Starting November, he will begin filming the prequal to the X-Men triology, Wolverine. It has been confirmed Gavin Hood will </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4881480924742453451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4881480924742453451' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4881480924742453451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4881480924742453451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-39th-b-day-hugh.html' title='Happy 39th B-Day Hugh!'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-7143990078763209289</id><published>2007-10-10T20:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:41:08.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Things in Life (Ya Gotta Love Them)</title><summary type='text'>There are the small things that make life so worthwhile. A hello from a friend, a short message from someone you care about, even a small greeting as you pass in the hallway makes some peoples' days. Yet like love, we take small things for granted with money and friends and family when we should be cherishing it until it doesn't last any longer. Ultimately, the little things done for you or the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7143990078763209289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7143990078763209289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7143990078763209289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7143990078763209289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/10/little-things-in-life-ya-gotta-love.html' title='The Little Things in Life (Ya Gotta Love Them)'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1924836678254685742</id><published>2007-09-24T21:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:42:11.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Love You"</title><summary type='text'>It's a phrase I know a lot of people take for granted. It's one I will never, ever, will take for granted. Recently, my boyfriend who I've been dating for less than a year told me this. In fact, I think it's one of the most amazing things he's ever said to me. We also kissed for the first time and I have to say I thought we wouldn't stop.This is beside the point though, love isn't something we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1924836678254685742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1924836678254685742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1924836678254685742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1924836678254685742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-love-you.html' title='&quot;I Love You&quot;'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-3931106107071636755</id><published>2007-09-23T21:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:42:37.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Physical, Mental, Your State of Mind</title><summary type='text'>There are someday when you don't feel like getting out of bed...mentally, physically, or even both. Sometimes your gut feeling is that this day is going to be bad from day one or that it's going to be the greatest day you'll ever have. When your excited, you'll get up wanting whatever that is that is so exiting to happen. Or maybe, your so unpleased about what is going to happen that you feel </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3931106107071636755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3931106107071636755' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3931106107071636755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3931106107071636755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/09/physical-mental-your-state-of-mind.html' title='Physical, Mental, Your State of Mind'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-7546239808940451683</id><published>2007-09-11T16:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:20:18.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Tuesday, 9/11</title><summary type='text'>Well, it's been six years and this is the first time 9/11 has occured on it's original day, Tuesday. Yet they say we're honoring those 'heroes' that risked their lives for others. Though that insecurity lingers with the word hero, I'll salute them again and again, and I'll thank those who risked their lives for every one at the World Trade Center, in The Pentagon, and United 93. God bless all </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/7546239808940451683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=7546239808940451683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7546239808940451683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/7546239808940451683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/09/back-to-tuesday-911.html' title='Back to Tuesday, 9/11'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-8051411781991589991</id><published>2007-09-01T06:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:43:15.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fiction</title><summary type='text'>*Spoilers of Harry Potter 7*I found myself reading the seventh book of Harry Potter and crying over it again and yelling at it that how could it possibly be over? How could Remus Lupin, Tonks, Fred Weasly, and Severus Snape be all dead along with numerous others that I could ramble off. Then I said, why am I shedding tears and getting angry over fictional characters. Well, because some fiction is</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8051411781991589991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8051411781991589991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8051411781991589991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8051411781991589991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/09/fiction.html' title='Fiction'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-3181911506662431042</id><published>2007-08-28T11:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:43:33.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Change Better Come 'Round Real Soon</title><summary type='text'>"There are no boundries in the acting world, the actor themself sets it and for Hugh, there are no boundries"-Personal QuoteWell Hugh Jackman is coming out with his newest production, Viva Laughlin for CBS viewers in October, yet people are already saying it sucks and writing it off their list. So what ever happened to 'Don't Write me Off Just Yet' because I personally believe that you shouldn't </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/3181911506662431042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=3181911506662431042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3181911506662431042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/3181911506662431042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/change-better-come-round-real-soon.html' title='Change Better Come &apos;Round Real Soon'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1755509581464840889</id><published>2007-08-28T07:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:43:50.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Insecure Quote from Bush</title><summary type='text'>"Every nation in every region now has a decision to make. Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists. "-George W. Bush (President)Well, that's a big statement that can bite him in the butt because I'm not with him, I bet a whole lot of America isn't because his war cost lives, wasted lives over something called the Weapons of Mass Destruction that didn't exist. I'm not a terrorist </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1755509581464840889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1755509581464840889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1755509581464840889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1755509581464840889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/insecure-quote-from-bush.html' title='An Insecure Quote from Bush'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1955903987105922510</id><published>2007-08-27T05:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:41:40.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insecurity</title><summary type='text'>On a less 'save the world' note, here's something I'd like to blog about today. It is the insecurity of this world, our world, the world that we share together. James Bradley once said in The Flags of Our Fathers movie, "I finally came to the conclusion that he maybe he was right maybe there are no such things as heroes maybe there are just people like my dad, I finally came to understand why </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1955903987105922510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1955903987105922510' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1955903987105922510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1955903987105922510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/insecurity.html' title='Insecurity'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-4427812979879608608</id><published>2007-08-25T19:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:19:22.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire, Let it Burn, and Don't Let it Die</title><summary type='text'>My friend on a message boards (hughjackmanfan.com) happened to be reading some of my posts, I sort of blog there too, and said, "And you know what? The fire, that is burning within you - don't let it die. Because when the fire burns long enough and bright enough - it attracts a lof of good stuff."It's quite true, not just quite, but to the bottom line, it will always be true, not just my fire but</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4427812979879608608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4427812979879608608' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4427812979879608608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4427812979879608608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/fire-let-it-burn-and-dont-let-it-die.html' title='Fire, Let it Burn, and Don&apos;t Let it Die'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-5485524339436967649</id><published>2007-08-24T22:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T22:23:52.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><summary type='text'>You know, "L is for the way you look at me" and yadda yadda ya.  But it's more than that, it's a force, an eighth sense because we know when we love and when we don't.  So why must we have love?  Well, to save our world, to save us in general because our world, this time, our now, is filled with hatred that led to useless wars and wasted lives of men and women.  We need to stop killing and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/5485524339436967649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=5485524339436967649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5485524339436967649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/5485524339436967649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/love_24.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-1346619720676795195</id><published>2007-08-14T10:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:37:02.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is a Highway</title><summary type='text'>Life takes it unexpected turns, I can say that safely. Many things have come up that I've least expected, like my ex-Best Friend leaving me. Maybe that boy I like who asked me out in the sixth grade and winning tickets to the New York Mets' Opening Day. Indeed will I say I've also encountered unpleasant things like getting poked in the eye, or my bad luck with even numbers. You can't live life </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1346619720676795195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1346619720676795195' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1346619720676795195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1346619720676795195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/life-is-highway.html' title='Life is a Highway'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-8072992794764472660</id><published>2007-08-13T11:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:36:45.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay Rights</title><summary type='text'>Unfortunately, gays aren't given the same rights as female to male couples. Some might call these regualar couples, I call them hetrosexual couples, not regular, because there shouldn't be much of a difference. So love is the key, well, obviously, some people don't agree. You see, gays are 'different' and yet, they are the same. They love, like you and me, and they aren't any different. Love, a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/8072992794764472660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=8072992794764472660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8072992794764472660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/8072992794764472660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/gay-rights.html' title='Gay Rights'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-1809233356453338266</id><published>2007-08-10T11:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:36:24.598-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><summary type='text'>So I was just thinking after a discussion in a messageboard I post in often, and one of the topics was how do you describe love? I, myself, haven't been truly in love yet, but one person says, "Love is beautiful and necessary to be able to live in harmony! Let's hope that the world will be a better place because we have done our parts." Yes, it is beautiful. If we had enough of it, the world </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1809233356453338266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1809233356453338266' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1809233356453338266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1809233356453338266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-1366108358098587189</id><published>2007-08-09T09:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T18:35:55.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty</title><summary type='text'>Honestyby Billy JoelIf you search for tenderness it isn't hard to find.You can have the love you need to live.But if you look for truthfulnessYou might just as well be blind.It always seems to be so hard to give.Honesty is such a lonely word.Everyone is so untrue.Honesty is hardly ever heard.And mostly what I need from you.I can always find someone to say they sympathize.If I wear my heart out on</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/1366108358098587189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=1366108358098587189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1366108358098587189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/1366108358098587189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/honesty.html' title='Honesty'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-975023854047468168</id><published>2007-08-07T05:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T06:15:27.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><summary type='text'>There's always that lonlieness that lingers in our hearts whenever something or someone is missing.  Right now, I'm in another country for a little while and after a week, I feel lonlieness slipping in even though there are seven other relatives in my house.  When I said goodbyes to my friends, I felt like I was dettaching myself from them.  Though, they do email me everyday, so it makes me feel </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/975023854047468168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=975023854047468168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/975023854047468168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/975023854047468168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6926268557659394185</id><published>2007-08-06T19:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T19:46:53.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Death of a Superhero</title><summary type='text'>Well, Captain America just went.  Bought the comic and it was, you know, sad how he died.  Won't tell ya much about it know.  Actually happened a few months ago.  Anyhow, we've seen superheroes die: Jean Grey (came back as Dark Phoenix of simply, Phoenix), Tony Stark (He came back as Iron Man), Professor X (actually suspectedly died multiple times, but comes back.".  So my point is, Superheroes </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6926268557659394185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6926268557659394185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6926268557659394185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6926268557659394185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/death-of-superhero.html' title='The Death of a Superhero'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-6659054941162540670</id><published>2007-08-05T20:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T20:59:05.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Barry Bonds</title><summary type='text'>He hit his 755th friggin' homerun the other day!  I can't believe it.  Clay Henlsey will either be the most hated or most repsected pitcher right now because of throwing that pitch Barry Bonds hit over the wall.  With probably a dramatic point to the sky, I didn't bother to watch any Barry Bonds.  The guy who caught it should burn it.  But that's just opinion.  Of course he's keeping it.  If I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6659054941162540670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6659054941162540670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6659054941162540670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6659054941162540670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/barry-bonds.html' title='Barry Bonds'/><author><name>Cal</name><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-7160652096668586316.post-4581004082647359657</id><published>2007-08-04T04:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T04:51:05.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friends?</title><summary type='text'>She said we'd be friends, to the happy or bitter end.  Best friends forever turned to best friends for never.  She chose me over a boy, he was known as tall n' ugly, sometimes fat n' chubby.  We've been friends since kindergarten, maybe even preschool.  Then when sixth grade came, my life fell apart as that boy walked in and they started to go out.  She had a boyfriend, spent weekends with him, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/4581004082647359657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=4581004082647359657' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4581004082647359657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/4581004082647359657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/best-friends.html' title='Best Friends?'/><author><name>Cal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7160652096668586316.post-6797919333703002998</id><published>2007-08-04T03:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T03:26:51.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Entry</title><summary type='text'>Well, here's my first entry.  Guess I should just let you know about myself first.  I'm a huge Hugh Jackman fan, own just about anything Hugh related that I can get my hands on.  Also, X-Men, that's just a plus that he was Wolverine in the movie because I was a huge X-Men fan before.  Baseball, nothing beats baseball except those things.  Big Mets and Red Sox fan.  These things just flow for me.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/feeds/6797919333703002998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7160652096668586316&amp;postID=6797919333703002998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6797919333703002998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7160652096668586316/posts/default/6797919333703002998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://not-who-you-think-i-am.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-first-entry.html' title='My First Entry'/><author><name>Cal</name><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>
