<?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-6375259</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:06:45.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blaire's Uber-Cool Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>blaires *UbEr* cool blog!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-108449775717752027</id><published>2004-05-13T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T15:41:08.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>I think that today I had just about the worst day of my life... when I say that it was bad I mean BAD.  I haven't had a day like that in so long... it was actually quite bizzare.  I think that the last time that I actually left school because I was having such a bad day was in grade 8.  My day didn't even start off bad, I got up on time, liked my clothes and hair when I left the house, had 2 good first periods and then as soon as lunch came things started to get bad.  I don't even know what pissed me off so much about the entire day, I guess it was the fact that everybody was acting so fake, so immature, and so cruel to eachother.  I don't understand why we all can't have normal friendships, do people always have to be pelting eachother with spitballs, giving eachother 'body gloves', hittin eachother with spoons, and making fun of one another?  Like I'm sorry, maybe I have some warped idea of what a friendship is supposed to be like but those things really dont fall under any of my categories.  I actually feel pretty bad about how I treated some people today.  I kind of snapped at Chris when I shouldn't have and I know that I was dishing out some of the dirtiest looks that I have.  K so anyways... After lunch I knew that I had to leave the school before I lost some friends or killed somebody so I called my mom and told her that I was sick.  I was going to have to take the bus home though so that kind of sucked but o well.  When I started to leave the school I just saw a bus pull away from the stop and I was just like screw it, so I walked all the way home from O'byrne!  It took me about an hour and a half.  The really creepy thing is that I don't really even remember walking home, I mean I know that that is how I got home but I dont remember physically walking.  When I got home I threw up and curled up on the couch and watched Ledgends of the Fall.  We have owned it for so long but I had never seen it until today.  I balled my eyes out which is good because I needed to cry but I couldn't make myself do it.  Anyways thats all that I have to say about today so ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-108449775717752027?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108449775717752027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108449775717752027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108449775717752027' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-108345643830753041</id><published>2004-05-01T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-01T17:11:38.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chelsies Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>Last night was Chelsies birthday party and it was pretty unreal.  The night started off soooo fun but then something happened...  I kind of did something that I shouldn't have and the next three hours were hell for me and 75% of the people there.  I was pretty much a wreck, along with a few other people.  I nearly left at a few points in the night but in the end I am so glad that I didn't.  If I did leave I'm sure that I would be blogging a completely different story right now.  So three hours after my huge mistake, about a million tears, and one big group hug later, the night started to pick up.  I know that that all sounds completely corny but I guess you just have to know what was going on in full detail and how me and my bff's work.  The rest of the night went pretty smoothly (Kendall there was NO drinking in the end).  Everybody was so realived that most of the nights earlier drama was resolved that they all just wanted to have FUN.  Thats pretty much what we did, after some people left we sat down for a good old game of truth or dare (corny, but fun none the less), "thats not a dare...thats a joke" and "its like britney, madonna, and christina... britney got more airtime" where a few of the pretty good lines from the game.  Omg hahaha if any of my friends are reading this you know what I'm talking about... I have to go and get ready for a movie tonight so maybe I will blog more later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this was a pretty stupid post but whatever, I kind of wanted to get some memories out, haha like a written record even if I can't go into detail cause my sister reads this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-108345643830753041?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108345643830753041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108345643830753041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108345643830753041' title='Chelsies Birthday Party'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-108198210611118901</id><published>2004-04-14T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-14T15:39:02.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored....</title><content type='html'>Ok this is just me being bored before Kate n Justine pick me up to go to Chelsies... Ya it sucks because her house was supposed to be some huge bash and it was going to be unreal and now its going to be a few people doing god knows what.  haha O well I'm sure that it will still be fun, maybe not as much fun as it was intended to be in the first place but theres no way that I can hang out with my friends and not have a good time.  Anyways... Kate should be here soon and I have a few things I want to change on my blog before I go out so ya I'm out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-108198210611118901?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108198210611118901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108198210611118901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108198210611118901' title='Bored....'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-108178749957445823</id><published>2004-04-12T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-13T21:58:14.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dashboard Confessional Lyrics</title><content type='html'>"Carve Your Heart Out Yourself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carve your heart out yourself. &lt;br /&gt;Hopelessness is your cell.&lt;br /&gt;Since you've drawn out these lines, &lt;br /&gt;Are you protected from trying times? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man it takes a silly girl &lt;br /&gt;to lie about the dreams she has. &lt;br /&gt;Lord, it takes a lonely one to wish&lt;br /&gt;that she had never dreamt at all.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look now, there you go with hope again.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you're so sure&lt;br /&gt;that I'll be leaving in the end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dig a ditch deep enough, &lt;br /&gt;To keep you clear of the sun. &lt;br /&gt;You've been burned more than once. &lt;br /&gt;You don't think much of trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man it takes a silly girl &lt;br /&gt;to lie about the dreams she has.&lt;br /&gt;Lord, it takes a lonely one to wish &lt;br /&gt;that she had never dreamt at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look now, there you go with hope again. &lt;br /&gt;But I'll be sure your secret is safe with me. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, you're so sure &lt;br /&gt;I'll be leaving in the end, &lt;br /&gt;Treating me like I'm already gone.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not; &lt;br /&gt;I will stay where you are, always. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So Beautiful"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that you were home again, &lt;br /&gt;but you don't look like your back to me.&lt;br /&gt;With your focuses changing, &lt;br /&gt;your gaze is transfixed on &lt;br /&gt;a point that I can't often see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got your new ties. I've got my old knots. &lt;br /&gt;You've got your inside line.&lt;br /&gt;But your never happy with what you've got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careful now, you're so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;when you've convinced yourself&lt;br /&gt;that no one else is quite as beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that you were living well, &lt;br /&gt;but you don't look like your living to me.&lt;br /&gt;though the sparkle is gone, the smile is in place &lt;br /&gt;so that everyone watching can see.&lt;br /&gt;You've got them all convinced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know so well that you can list your friends, &lt;br /&gt;but you can't count on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold it now, you've got everyone convinced &lt;br /&gt;that your alright&lt;br /&gt;when no one else is quite as vulnerable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as you got it you want something else.&lt;br /&gt;It's not the sale that you love, its the sell.&lt;br /&gt;It's not the price, that's going to cost you,&lt;br /&gt;It's just the weight, that's going to bring you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold it now, you've got everyone convinced &lt;br /&gt;that your alright&lt;br /&gt;when no one else is quite as vulnerable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careful now, your so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;when you've convinced yourself&lt;br /&gt;no one else is quite as beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as you've got it, &lt;br /&gt;you want something else.&lt;br /&gt;It's not the sale that you love, its the sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the price, that's going to cost you,&lt;br /&gt;it's just the weight that's going to bring you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If You Can't Leave It Be, Might As Well Make It Bleed"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you've found sure upsets you,&lt;br /&gt;Never saw it coming did you?&lt;br /&gt;Its easy to be surprised &lt;br /&gt;with both your eyes sewn closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Handled with great precision, &lt;br /&gt;another faultless execution,&lt;br /&gt;you're the subject of this exhibition,&lt;br /&gt;a willing cadaver, a willing cadaver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scalpel, sutured, made whole again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These cuts are leaving creases.&lt;br /&gt;Trace the scars, to fit the pieces.&lt;br /&gt;tell your story, you don't need to say a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So call off the calvary, &lt;br /&gt;you can't save a wretch like me.&lt;br /&gt;Clean this with kerosene. &lt;br /&gt;if you can't leave it be, might as well make it bleed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scalpel, sutured, made whole again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,&lt;br /&gt;you look better when out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;you were not made to stand and fight,&lt;br /&gt;there's something better wrong with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your pulse is anemic, you're tired of the fire,&lt;br /&gt;you're bruising too easy, and falling behind,&lt;br /&gt;and no one is waiting for you,&lt;br /&gt;and no one is waiting for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So call off your quarantine, &lt;br /&gt;you can't save the rest from me,&lt;br /&gt;Clean this with kerosene,&lt;br /&gt;If you can't leave it be might as well make it bleed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scapel, sutured, made whole again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,&lt;br /&gt;you look better when out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;you were not made to stand and fight,&lt;br /&gt;there's something better wrong with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no one is waiting for you.&lt;br /&gt;And no one is waiting for you.&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K so there are some lyrics from the Dashboard Confessional cd (A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar) that hit me pretty hard when I listened to those songs... I'm sure that ya'll have listened to songs before and they just kind of speak to you.  Its like those songs, those lyrics, dug deep down into me and found a part of me that I spend the greater part of my life trying to conceal.  Chris Carrabba might have well written the songs about me that's how accurate they are.  I don't really know how to feel about the songs, this is kind of dumb but part of me is mad because I feel like if those lyrics tore into me that easily than it means that I am not as strong on the outside as I like to appear.  Yes... I know... It's messed up, haha.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-108178749957445823?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108178749957445823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108178749957445823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108178749957445823' title='Dashboard Confessional Lyrics'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-108146997124994264</id><published>2004-04-08T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-13T21:51:24.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confussed</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I know that nobody reads this but I've actually been finding it kind of theripudic to write out how I feel.  Its like when there is nobody else that you can trust you've got your trusty ol blog to dump everything out on, stupid Kendall, I think you've got me hooked! haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the real reason why I'm on here right now when I should be out with everybody is because I'm so damn confussed about myself right now... I dont really know how to describe it, so I hope that all of the non-exsistant people who read this can bear with me for a little bit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what I am seen as, and I have a huge problem with it.  I mean who really wants to be known as shallow, ditzy, bitchy, materialistic, and an all around air head?  Seriously, lol.  But the really weird thing is that even though I know exactly how everybody sees me, and I have a problem with it, I don't want to do anything to change it.  It's like if I'm a stupid blonde who doesn't care about anything more than shopping, then nobody has to get to know the real me, you know?  It's almost like thats my mask and I am constantly hidding behind it.  It really bugs me when people judge me on the character that I play but who can really blame them for judging me on that when thats who I am choosing to be? Like...  Maybe I'm just afraid that people wouldn't accept me if they knew what I was actually like.  I mean I get teased a lot at school and I don't care if my friends tell me its flirting or whatever, it bugs me... Theres no way that you can be told all the things that I am and not have it get to you.  When I put on my dumb blonde mask I can just pretend that I don't get what people are talking about and then it doesn't look like it gets to me.  I'm probably not doing myself a favor by putting on this face but if it helps me deal for the time being than I guess it can't be that bad.  The most screwed up thing is that I even do this around my family, like honestly shouldnt I be able to be myself around them?  But for some crazy reason I still put on the act...  how weird is that?  I guess that without my mask I'm just me and when it really comes down to it I don't feel like thats good enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok now that I've kind of got some of that off my chest I guess I kinda feel better... Kendall if you read this don't you dare as me about it haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-108146997124994264?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108146997124994264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/108146997124994264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108146997124994264' title='Confussed'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-107912004894214897</id><published>2004-03-12T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-12T11:37:20.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ross is gay</title><content type='html'>ROSS IS GAY, naw hes not hes alrite.... hahahaha wut a joke &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-107912004894214897?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107912004894214897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107912004894214897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107912004894214897' title='Ross is gay'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-107877999216892334</id><published>2004-03-08T12:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-08T13:09:38.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calm Class</title><content type='html'>Hi Ya'll, I'm sittin in calm, and I'm super de duper de bored because I am all done my work.  This is about the gayest class in the world, especially since I'm in a bad mood today.  Normally it isnt that bad but when you don't feel like talking to anybody because you are in a super bad mood it really sux.  My day started out so good, now it is just terrible.  Ya I'm just done with *boy*, *girl* can have him, I just don't care anymore.  I don't care how many people tell me that he likes me or anything like that *she* wants *him* so *she* can have *him*.  I'm so sick of people telling me how to feel or how *he* feels.  Like honestly if he really likes me that much he can just come talk to me for once.  Maybe he could stop telling other people that he tries to talk to me but I turn away, cause I have seriously never noticed anything like that at all.  All that I have noticed today was *her* reaching over and pulling his shirt up.  I'm just so fucking done.  You wanna know wuts sad?  I'm so far from done, I like him SOO much there is no way that *her* flirting with him is going to make me stop liking him.  I have to give myself time before I can be certain that I am totally over him.  I want to be over him, I want to be over him like you wouldn't believe... but I'm not.  Whatever, I'm done&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-107877999216892334?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107877999216892334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107877999216892334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107877999216892334' title='Calm Class'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-107638269667124978</id><published>2004-02-09T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T19:14:04.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter To "Friend"</title><content type='html'>OK......  Well I know that I haven't been on here for a while, although I haven't really been on CP either.  I dunno if anybody even reads this besides my sisters friends *yes it is kinda creepy lol but they are good people :O) haha*  Anyways, I guess I have just been really busy lately but o well, IM BACK NOW haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear "Friend":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to name you, because I don't feel that I need to post your name to get the message across.  I think that if you do read this, which in some ways I hope you do but in others I really hope you don't, than you will know that I am talking about you.  You might be wondering how you would know if it is you or not.  Heres a way for you to know: I have probably never trusted somebody as much as I have you in such a short amount of time.  Maybe you did this to me so my heart could learn a lesson, however, I highly doubt that.  I don't believe you deserve that much credit.  I can't begin to tell you how let down I am, and how unbelievably shocked I am that you could stoop so low as to do what you did to me.  I always thought higher than that of you and I don't know if you understand how much I valued our friendship.  This may be another one of your 'plans' you always claim to concoct and if it is, that makes it all the more worse because then the pain you have caused me would be intentional.  I don't understand where all of this came from, I was only standing up for myself like you have told me countless times to do.  I think that the one thing I can not get over is how you somehow took all the things you ever said about *her* and turned it around to make them all come out of my mouth.  Do you realize that you would call me just to complain about *her*?  That at random points in the conversation, no matter the topic, you would say 'You know who I hate? *her*'  Suddenly she is your best friend, you just can't get enough of *her*.  Thats funny isn't it?  I don't understand what caused you to do this, maybe you were afraid of losing me or something like that, I'm not even going to begin to get into all the things it could be but I have reason to believe certain things.  If you do read this I am not trying to say that I don't want to be friends anymore.  I wouldn't do that to you, dispite what you have done to me.  I don't think that you even understand how upset I am and I don't think that you ever will.  All in all, if you are reading this I guess I just want you to almost, kind of understand me and where I am comming from.  I am probably asking for to much from you, or from anybody for that matter but I just wanted to have the chance to let you at least read my side.  If you are reading this I'm sorry if I did anything, I can't think of anything but just in case.  I'm hoping I did something because then I could at least deserve everything that I am getting now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to anybody that read that that isn't who it is too because it probably makes NO sense haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-107638269667124978?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107638269667124978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107638269667124978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107638269667124978' title='Letter To &quot;Friend&quot;'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-107531642997704028</id><published>2004-01-28T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-28T11:10:45.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cancelled Vacation</title><content type='html'>Ok so by now I think that most of ya'll have heard that my trip to the Dominican is cancelled.... I am bummed? &lt;strong&gt;YES&lt;/strong&gt;, bummed doesn't even capture how upset I am.  When I first found out I was acting like a spoiled brat and wasn't thinking about my little brother who, as I write this, is in the hospital.  At this &lt;strong&gt;very moment&lt;/strong&gt; he could be getting open heart surgery, I hope its now because then I can go visit him sooner.  All that I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself was seeing my brother, lying in that hospital bed but at the same time being all cheery and excited about the cords on him and the fact that his finger was like the ET finger (it glows red).  I don't know if it has even hit him yet that we won't be going on vacation because of him but I think the longer he doesn't realize it the better, because I know how upset he will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really scares me is the fact that when he has his seizures he &lt;strong&gt;DIES&lt;/strong&gt;... I have seen my brother &lt;strong&gt;DEAD&lt;/strong&gt; before.  It's so scary to think about what would have happened if one time that his heart stopped it didn't start up again.  It's like he kept dyeing and God kept telling him that it wasn't his time yet.  Thank the Lord it isn't, I don't know what I would do if he died.  The doctors told my parents that he is one hell of a fighter... That even though his heart stopped from 10-15 seconds (the longest they have EVER seen) he doesn't have any brain damage or anything like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post again if there are any updates on him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-107531642997704028?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107531642997704028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107531642997704028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107531642997704028' title='Cancelled Vacation'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375259.post-107524018760355063</id><published>2004-01-27T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-27T13:55:24.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi Everybody</title><content type='html'>Ok well this is my blog, for all of you who don't know what a blog is its kinda like an online journal and my sister was bugging me to get one "cause I keep to much inside" hahaha so here I am, writing in this thing, kinda feeling like an idiot... O well.  &lt;br /&gt;SO.... I dunno what I am supposed to write in here.  I will start with what I have done today I guess.  Well I guess I will start with last night cause that's kinda where it all begins.&lt;br /&gt;My brother had to go to the hospital today to get some tests done because he always has seizures, its really scary.  And so last night he could only get half the amount of sleep he normally gets so I had to stay up with him until 2:30... *yawn*  Anyways so this morning I actually didn't wake up that late considering I didn't get to sleep until after 3.  I watched a movie called &lt;em&gt;Circle of friends&lt;/em&gt;.  It was actually really really good, I recommend it! haha  It was kinda weird because I knew that my brother should have been home by 2 or so and I was getting kind of nervous until my dad called me from the hospital and said that everything is more serious than they thought and now he is being admitted so he has to stay there tonight so they can do even more tests on him.  I'm pretty nervous because I know that my parents wont really give me or my sister any information until anything is certain and when I was talking to my dad he was trying to make things sound fine when I know that they aren't.  So that's pretty much been my day so far... Not so good but whatever, I've got nothing better to write about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375259-107524018760355063?l=blairemadonna.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107524018760355063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375259/posts/default/107524018760355063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blairemadonna.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107524018760355063' title='Hi Everybody'/><author><name>Blaire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10782160787578385112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
