<?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-3606890435117081342</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:38:43.695-05:00</updated><category term='sexual healing'/><category term='petastic'/><category term='single life'/><category term='love'/><category term='the douchebag files'/><category term='online dating'/><category term='potpourri'/><title type='text'>29 Forever</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-4869720354893675564</id><published>2011-01-29T00:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T00:14:11.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight is Hard</title><content type='html'>I know that it was the best thing to do for my emotional health at the moment, but knowing that I will have no contact with Rob is killing me.  At moments, I feel like I just can't stand it.  It's not exactly a feeling like I want to call him or IM him, but it's this panicky feeling I get in my chest thinking that I'm just never going to hear from him ever again.  It's like I have moments where I come out of my denial and just sit here and relive the fact all over again that he doesn't want to be with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to work at ChaCha all weekend long, but all of these dumb questions in some way remind me of him or they are something he would laugh at or want to hear.  I'm trying to listen to Pandora as I work, but every song has lyrics that I can identify with.  I know that these feelings will pass eventually, but at this very moment it just feels so scary.  I miss him so badly sometimes and the future just looks so...  blah.  Like there isn't much to look forward to at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a master plan for my life right now.  I have things that I want to do...  goals I want to reach and achieve, but during the day-to-day grinding, it's really hard to keep my thoughts from wandering and trying to trick me into all kinds of crazy things.  I relive all of the bad stuff that happened and blame myself.  I relive everything he ever complained about me or about how he felt about the relationship...  It's so counterproductive, but I have no idea how to sidetrack my thoughts enough to focus on work and keeping a positive outlook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to talk to Bambi earlier today.  I miss her and I'm gonna go see her really soon.  I have small goals and things to do planned for each day of the coming week, but it all feels kinda meaningless and mundane.  It really sucks not to have that special person to call and talk to every day.  It's hard not to know that someone has your back and will encourage you when you need it.  It sucks to wonder if he's tired or hungry or lonely and I'm not there for him.  See how my thoughts just railroad in one direction??  It's sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta get back to work....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-4869720354893675564?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/4869720354893675564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/tonight-is-hard.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/4869720354893675564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/4869720354893675564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/tonight-is-hard.html' title='Tonight is Hard'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-2335321786383026174</id><published>2011-01-27T15:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T15:52:44.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Man and the Pills</title><content type='html'>I had the weirdest freakin' dream last night!  I dreamed that I was still in high school and that my mom was very sick with something...  maybe cancer or some other terminal illness.  All day long at school, I could only think of finding a way to cure her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an old man who lived near my house...  maybe about 60 years old.  He was skinny, but well build, had longish hair, and seemed kinda creepy, but kinda nice.  After school, I got off the school bus and went to his house.  In his garage, he brought out a dish filled with really thick, big, brightly colored pills.  I knew that these were pain pills and specific pills to cure diseases.  He told me to take as many of the pills as I wanted, so I took 2 of each pill and knew that I could Google the pills later to find out what they did.  I put one of each pill in each pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, the fact that he gave me these pills meant that I had to have sex with him as payment.  So, I followed him back to his bedroom.  He was on the bed, and I got on the bed next to him.  We both took off our clothes.  There was no kissing or romance or anything like that involved.  He just grabbed me and pushed my head towards his penis.  For some reason, I wasn't freaking out that he was old or gross or anything.  When I looked at his penis, he had a shoestring tied around the bottom of it to keep it hard!  I wasn't grossed out or freaked out, just curious that he used this method...  So, we start to have sex, and in my dream it is feeling pretty good, and I'm not even bothered that this dude is a stranger to me and a 60-year-old man pushing pills on high school girls...  For some reason, he has an orgasm, but I don't...  but, I really wanted to.  I felt really unfulfilled.  But, he gets dressed quickly and goes and stands by the door and tells me that I really need to leave...  it's time for me to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking all around the room for my clothes.  There are clothes everywhere, and it's difficult to find my own.  I find a lot of other women's clothes and his clothes, but not mine.  I can't find my bra, but I find a T-shit that Rob gave me when we first started dating with race cars on it.  I put that on and a pair of cuffed shorts.  I walk out of the house and start walking home.  But, as I'm walking, I realize that these are not the clothes that I came over in.  I'm not sure if they are MY clothes or not, and I'm positive that I wouldn't have gone to school wearing shorts in the wintertime and an over sized NASCAR T-shirt with no bra underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I walk back to the old man's house and go back to his bedroom.  I look and look around for my clothes.  It's really hard for me to remember what I was originally wearing, but I know that I feel uncomfortable and sure that what I'm wearing now is not right.  He lifts up the mattress so I can look under the bed, and I see Brody under there snuffling around and realize that I forgot Brody, too!  Then, I see my pink and purple book bag on the floor and realize that I forgot that as well.  Then, I check my pockets and realize that I don't have the pills with me and know that I must have been wearing different shorts or pants or a skirt.  I'm starting to really get concerned and freak out, but can't find what I need and the old man is just standing there or going about his business and not helping.  I look on top of a dresser and see some things that Sissy got rid of during her move.  I think, how in the hell did HE get them?  And he comes up to me and says, I'll auction them off to her for a low price if she wants them back.  It's like a turntable, some horse statuettes, and a little diary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the dream ends.  I have no idea what happens next because I woke up.  What in the hell does this dream mean???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-2335321786383026174?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/2335321786383026174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/old-man-and-pills.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/2335321786383026174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/2335321786383026174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/old-man-and-pills.html' title='The Old Man and the Pills'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-5706686884820771519</id><published>2011-01-26T22:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T22:14:25.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Old Story</title><content type='html'>It makes my heart hurt just seeing his picture on the IM or when he makes a FB post.  It's terrible.  I don't even know what to think about last night.  Part of me is like, well, he needed to get stuff out of the car and didn't want to seem rude, so stayed out of guilt and for something to do.  The other part of me thinks that he stayed and brought that specific movie for a reason...  God knows what.  I don't know.  I wish that I could understand what is going on in his head.  I wish that I could start feeling better soon.  It hurts just as bad today as it did on Friday.  Will it hurt this much a week from now?  A month from now?  Six months from now?  I firmly believed that Robert was going to be the man I was going to marry and have babies with one day.  Losing those dreams and hopes is just devastating.  We have the same moral values and goals in life.  We have a shared love of God that I thought would make our relationship stronger.  I haven't heard from him all day today, so I'm assuming that last night was just a "whatever" moment.  I'll just take it at face value.  It was very non-committal and cordial.  A couple of hugs.  A kiss on the forehead.  Getting his stuff.  Watching a movie.  Nothing.  It means nothing but what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling sick to my stomach for the last two days.  All of this stress is taking a toll on my body.  I'm not eating like I should.  I'm not getting enough sleep, and when I do sleep, it's restless.  During my waking hours, I can't stop thinking.  My eyes are all cried out.  But, at the weirdest moments I start to tear up again.  The only thing stopping me from crying for the last 24 hours is the fact that I have my contacts in.  Everything I do reminds me of him.  Listening to the radio is toxic.  Playing a stupid computer game is not fun anymore.  Anything I do, anywhere I go, and all the things I see or hear, I want to talk to him about because he's my person.  He's my man.  Now I just tell Brody, and he listens very patiently, but he doesn't make me laugh or give me a reassuring hug or do something stupid to cheer me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to focus on getting through this one day at a time.  This breakup is so much different from any past relationship.  I have absolutely NO desire to date again.  It's like I've lost all interest in the possibilities out there.  If the best that I've found in 30 years just can't and won't be with me, why would I want to go find someone else?  I love him, and he's letting me go.  Sad story heard round the world I'm sure, but this one is oh so personal because it's happening to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God, please comfort me and give me strength to be confident and strong in the coming days.  Please watch over Turtle and comfort him as well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-5706686884820771519?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/5706686884820771519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-makes-my-heart-hurt-just-seeing-his.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5706686884820771519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5706686884820771519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-makes-my-heart-hurt-just-seeing-his.html' title='Same Old Story'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-5987904887811544471</id><published>2011-01-25T00:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T00:50:53.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>His Hands</title><content type='html'>His hands...  warm around my lower back...&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  big with calluses...&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  pulling me towards his kisses&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  catching a tear or two&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  working for a better life&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  pushing me away&lt;br /&gt;His hands...  now only an impression on my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-5987904887811544471?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/5987904887811544471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/his-hands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5987904887811544471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5987904887811544471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/his-hands.html' title='His Hands'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-2226788130735682029</id><published>2011-01-24T13:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T13:57:25.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>STOP</title><content type='html'>Dear Jessica -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are you crying over someone who clearly does not want to be with you?  Why are you crying over someone who doesn't want to talk to you or contact you?  Why are you crying over someone who doesn't want to have sex with you or touch you?  Why are you crying over something you have absolutely no control over?  Why are you wasting time mourning and blubbering around when you could be working, making money, and bettering yourself and your lifestyle?  Why are you giving someone that kind of control over you?  Why did you stop caring about yourself?  Why can you not see how lovable you are?  Why are you choosing to suffer just because you are in pain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STOP IT!  RIGHT NOW!  I MEAN IT!  No one is worth this time and energy from you right now.  No one deserves your tears when they don't shed one for you.  No one has your back right now, but you.  Suck it up, girl!  YOU are not confused.  You know exactly what you want out of life and love.  Go work on getting that instead of focusing on a lost cause.  Stop beating yourself up for something that is NOT YOUR FAULT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get 10 minutes a day to cry.  That is it.  Other than those 10 minutes (which is entirely too much anyway), you should be doing something productive and positive.  You have met your 10-minute quota for the day and it is not even 2 p.m.  Get the fuck up.  Take a shower.  Get dressed.  Go to the grocery store.  Work your ass off.  Get some good sleep.  STOP FUCKING WALLOWING.  It is counterproductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Your Inner Warrior&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-2226788130735682029?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/2226788130735682029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/stop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/2226788130735682029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/2226788130735682029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/stop.html' title='STOP'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-6361059580373039744</id><published>2011-01-24T02:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T02:46:32.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>THINGS TO DO TO IMPROVE JESSICA (A.K.A. Stop Wallowing)</title><content type='html'>***   Start making more money NOW - at least $900/pay period in order to reduce financial stress and start saving money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Keep house cleaner so that it's not so gross - stop smoking in the house - keep up with dishes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Start volunteering - Tranquility in Hampton or SPCA - to help others in need and stop thinking only of myself for once&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Start Grocery Game again in order to make the most of food stamps/grocery money - stock up - and be able to donate any excess free stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Stop picking face, shower more, dress up, put on makeup, even if I'm not leaving the house on a workday - feel better about appearance - get haircut and color AS SOON AS POSSIBLE - take care of nails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Put decals on walls - hang branch for owls - paint walls - hang shelves, beautify, and organize the home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***  Spend more time with family and friends - Bambi, Sissy, Cathy, Dazzle, Lauren, Brian, Gus, Mom, Andrew - stop being a hermit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Test anxiety more by going out places and not missing out on fun stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***  Get out and exercise when the weather warms up...  take Brody to the dog park, swim, walk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Work on content and course material for JLS Transcription Academy - figure out how I'm gonna publish the website and GO LIVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   Get health insurance, dental, vision coverage - get teeth fixed and better glasses or contacts - take better care of health - try to find a counselor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***   For 3 months, focus entirely on yourself - DO NOT START DATING - do not browse single websites - get fab before worrying about giving more than you can right now and love yourself first and foremost before looking for love or trying to get back old love...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-6361059580373039744?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/6361059580373039744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/things-to-do-to-improve-jessica-aka.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/6361059580373039744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/6361059580373039744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/things-to-do-to-improve-jessica-aka.html' title='THINGS TO DO TO IMPROVE JESSICA (A.K.A. Stop Wallowing)'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-8452065618891766548</id><published>2011-01-22T22:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T23:30:31.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self-Esteem Dead in the Water</title><content type='html'>Why do I let a man determine how I feel about myself?  Why is it that when I go through a breakup, I let the faults of the other person determine my beliefs about myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob and I broke up last night, and at this point, I think I'm still in shock.  I didn't really see it coming at all...  at least not last night.  But, with 20/20 hindsight, I can see what he's been trying to tell me for at least a month now.  When someone says that they want to be with someone with no expectations, it means EXACTLY that.  It means, no expectations.  It means, they don't want to have to promise being there tomorrow or the next day.  Shit, they can't even promise today, but they are there, so that should be enough in the moment.  When someone withdraws from you not only emotionally, but physically as well, it is a huge red flag that they are withdrawing from the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask myself...  What could I have done differently?  Why couldn't I have been the one?  Why couldn't I have been the one that he loved the best?  The best to actually put fear aside for and break down those walls of feeling "confused" or unsure of the future... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of his excuses for backing away was being hurt in the past and being worried that the past would repeat itself.  Well...  if we all lived that way, nothing would ever get done.  No one would ever fall in love.  No one would ever take a chance and start a business.  No one would do great things.  He's not the only one who has been burned in a relationship.  I've been wounded beyond belief...  and not just by men I CHOSE to have in my life, but one man in particular who was supposed to be my hero...  the one who was supposed to teach me how to love and be loved.  But, inside this wounded and broken heart of mine, I somehow still find the strength and courage to let go, jump in, and fall in love.  Give someone the benefit of the doubt and just trust blindly that they won't hurt me and will be there when I fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He used his job (or lack thereof), stress, and lack of self esteem when it comes to being a provider as an excuse as to why he was pulling away.  Well...  These are all legitimate hardships.  I completely empathize and care and wanted to be there for him every step of the way.  I don't care about living hand to mouth.  I don't care about money and things and houses and cars and TVs and what he can give me or provide for me.  Those things are important in life, of course, but if I love someone, living through those hard times are what should bring people together and lean on one another even more...  Not tear them apart and cause them to give up because of their own insecurities.  The things that DO mean something to me are time, attention, comfort, care, laughter, respect, loyalty, affection.  I'm not sure why those things need to be sacrificed during hard times OR in good times.  If you love someone, you can't get them out of your head and want them to be happy and comforted and fulfilled no matter what the financial situation is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also used my anxiety as an excuse as to why he was unsure if our relationship was something he could deal with.  I understand that my anxiety can be an issue in ALL relationships in my life.  I know that it is frustrating when you want to do things with someone you love, but they have anxiety or panic in certain situations.  But, to be fair, it was something that we discussed extensively when we first met.  He had ample warning and knew these things about me before he made any sort of promises or commitments to being an "us."  My anxiety should NOT be an issue when it comes to whether someone loves me or not.  It is a part of me.  It is something that I am working on, but not something that I can snap my fingers and make go away.  I am a worthy human being to spend time with NO MATTER WHAT WE DO OR WHERE WE GO.  I may get anxious going to the store or riding places and traveling, but if you need me and call me, I'll be there.  If you need a hug and a kiss and someone to tell you how awesome you are, I'm there.  Wanna cuddle?  I'm good at that, too.  He had faults, too, that I would sometimes question.  He drinks a lot.  I'm not sure if he's an alcoholic, and he doesn't drink every day, but when he does drink, he drinks to excess.  He uses alcohol as a crutch...  as a medicine.  He used it to loosen himself up instead of being the great guy that he could just be sober.  BUT, I knew this from the time I met him.  It was something that I knew from the get-go and was willing to work with and accept.  I was willing to live with it because it was a part of him.  Something that I knew wouldn't go away in a day...  I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should I have to ASK someone for affection?  Why do I need to ask my boyfriend to have sex with me or want to kiss and hug me?  Am I that horrible of a person that he can barely bring himself to touch me or be tender with me?  He obviously wasn't and isn't in love with me, because when you're in love and want to be with someone, you can't take your hands off of them and love the together time and quiet time you get to be intimate with one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that some people fall in love with a fantasy of another person.  They fall in love with the potential of that other person and not how they are in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it brings me back full circle.  What did I do?  What is it about me that is unlovable or not good enough for someone who I love and care about?  And what is it about me that seems to pick these kind of men?  Men who just can't fulfill some of the basic needs I'm looking for in a relationship?  And when I say basic.  I mean...  Well.  Basic.  Trust, care, respect, loyalty, commitment, compassion, and passion.  It's not much to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot to work on when it comes to strengthening my own self esteem.  I need to learn how to love myself, but I don't even know where to start.  Mom told me tonight that I start by looking in the mirror and saying, "I love you, Jessica."  But, how do I do that when it seems the people I choose to love don't love me back?  How do I separate what other people think or portray to me and the real truth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, right now I'm feeling extremely weak, vulnerable, and depressed.  I know this will pass eventually.  I know that Rob or any other man does not define ME.  I know that I am worthy of love.  I know all of this in my head, but I wish that my head would hurry up and tell my heart that.  Because my heart hurts.  My heart is breaking.  I'm grieving the loss of all the hope that I had with Robert.  I thought I was going to marry that man.  He made me feel safe and happy and so many things before he pushed me away.  It's worse than when someone dies.  Because when they die, they have no choice.  But, when someone chooses to push you away, they are making a conscious choice not to be with you.  And that hurts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-8452065618891766548?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/8452065618891766548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/self-esteem-dead-in-water.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8452065618891766548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8452065618891766548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2011/01/self-esteem-dead-in-water.html' title='Self-Esteem Dead in the Water'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-8601019590709508060</id><published>2010-08-27T02:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T00:23:23.231-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potpourri'/><title type='text'>Get 'Er Done</title><content type='html'>So much going on in my head these days. I sit on the porch late at night and think up a million different blog entries, but then my mind starts to wander and I lose my focus. It's like that with most things these days. I can't just pick one thing to focus on and run with it. I'm kind of like my dad in that sense... I have lots of grand plans inside my head... the schematics all worked out... but, executing it is where I have the most problems. I'm a great procrastinator, but at the same time, when it comes down to the wire, I'm a kick-ass worker and really get things done. I just wish that I could find my oomph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week started out pretty shitty (thank you, Aunt Flo). I felt like complete crap. Hmmm... Let's tick of the symptoms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fatigue&lt;br /&gt;Uncoordinated&lt;br /&gt;Acne&lt;br /&gt;Cramps&lt;br /&gt;Bloating&lt;br /&gt;Irritation&lt;br /&gt;Depression&lt;br /&gt;Unfocused&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun stuff. It's like a miracle after a day or two, though. It all just simply goes away and the storm cloud passes. I lost my mojo for a couple of days there, but all is right with the world again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention that I've been looking like a crazy two-toned face and have a stench. :( I've found a temporary remedy for one, but I'll have to go see the doctor. So, I'm going to try not to worry about it too much and hope for a solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tons of ideas for JLS. I need to set aside some time on Sunday to do some brainstorming and actual leg-work. I'm really excited to get things rolling. My long-term goal right now is to have at least 5 clients by this time next year. My short-term goal is to (re)develop my course and figure out the cost. I think it's achievable. I think Rob is right. I need to stop being afraid to just take the leap and get 'er done. I'm a great thinker. Just a scared do-er.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of RobJerGat... He makes my heart pitter pat. I've never felt so comfortable with another human being in my life. One month after meeting him, and I feel just as excited to see him or hear his voice as I did on that first day. Thank you, God, for sending him to me. He makes me laugh my britches off. He makes me feel beautiful on my worst days. I just hope that I can make him feel as good as he makes me feel. I see a happy future where I didn't think it would be possible. Hope is the best feeling in the world, and Robby provides that for me on the daily. Dear God, please bless our partnership. Please show us the way to a bright future. Give us the strength to jump the hurdles in front of us. Give us insight to always count our blessings whether things are going good or going bad. Show us how to love one another with humble, forgiving, and unconditional hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling good tonight. I have my BB cuddled in the covers, a full belly, a pretty nice roof over my head, friends and family who love me and I love like crazy, and the rest of my life in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to sleep with a smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-8601019590709508060?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/8601019590709508060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/08/get-er-done.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8601019590709508060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8601019590709508060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/08/get-er-done.html' title='Get &apos;Er Done'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-7786986443478082884</id><published>2010-08-20T04:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T00:22:41.895-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Clarity</title><content type='html'>I never knew that something could feel so comfortable. So right. So easy. Sometimes I pause during the day, and I just can't believe how lucky I am. How blessed I am that God heard me and sent my touchstone. I know that not much time has gone by yet, but there is not one red flag... not one flare of intuition... not one gut feeling that has told me this is something to be scared of. Every part of me feels like this is the one. This is where I will build my life. My family. My future. I feel like it's... Christmas morning when I was a child. That feeling on Christmas Eve before Santa came. Pure delight and excitement. The sweet anticipation. I carry that feeling around right now, but now it's something more profound. It's not just material. It's the gift that I'm about to be given of a life well lived and a life well loved. I just know it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-7786986443478082884?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/7786986443478082884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/08/clarity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/7786986443478082884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/7786986443478082884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/08/clarity.html' title='Clarity'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-3702368268304526761</id><published>2010-07-26T04:04:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T00:22:21.799-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Afterglow</title><content type='html'>Everyone always told me that when you stop looking, you'll find something that you've been looking for. Sort of like, when you can't remember something, as soon as you stop trying to think about it, it comes into your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had pretty much given up. I thought that what I was looking for didn't even exist. How many times have I, with a half heart, gone out looking for nothing much? People who were just a shadow of what I was truly searching for or what I deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been through enough in my life to realize my worth. I know my faults. I know that I'm not perfect, and I'm not looking for someone to meet any sort of grand perfect standards that I have. I also know that I am an inherently good person. I know that I deserve to be happy, cared for, comforted... I deserve all the good things in life that I've been looking forward to, praying about, and wishing for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me what my heart was saying, and he was right. He asked me to bare my soul, and he embraced all of the flaws hidden within. He told me that he likes to laugh, but in turn, makes me smile and laugh more than I can remember doing in so long. He thinks my fingers are beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel giddy again, like at a middle school dance, waiting for my crush to ask me to dance. Except, now the giddiness is a grown up kind of feeling. He makes me feel again. He makes me hope again. He makes me happy, and I don't want it to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he will be the one to finally ask me to dance!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-3702368268304526761?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/3702368268304526761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/07/afterglow.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/3702368268304526761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/3702368268304526761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/07/afterglow.html' title='Afterglow'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-5788374205151940042</id><published>2010-05-16T02:52:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T00:21:20.810-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='online dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the douchebag files'/><title type='text'>Must I Be Tortured for a Free Meal?</title><content type='html'>I like to go on safe first dates. And by safe, I mean picking a place with a fast turnover time. I never go out to dinner on a first date. Who wants to be stuck with a plate full of food in front of them across from some dude who is telling you about their love of NASCAR and eating with their mouth wide open making you wish that you hadn't wasted all that makeup and electricity on your hair straightener! Yeah, most gals might go for the "at least I got a free meal out of it" approach, but my thinking is that getting the hell out of a dicey situation as fast as possible if and when it goes sour is the best approach. So, normally, coffee dates are usually my standard g0-to first date gig - you can get out fast if things are going bad or extend the date into dinner if it's going good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woe is me for deviating from that tried and true first-date method...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W is gorgeous. One of those bi-racial men with long dark eyelashes and a dazzling smile. He was born and raised in Germany, served in the Army, and is now working for a nationally recognized insurance agency and going to college on the G.I. Bill. We talked on the phone several times and got to know each other a little before planning a date for Friday night. I suggested Starbucks. Each time I mentioned that location, he kind of hemmed and hawed about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night and about an hour before our planned meeting time rolls around, and I'm already knee deep in concealer and mascara, W calls. "Hey, do you mind if we push our date back about 30 minutes? I'm out with my dad and I'm not sure when we'll be finished here." Hmmm. Okay, not too weird, right? He's with his dad. Awwww. How sweet that he spends time with his parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty minutes before the (revised) date time and he calls again. "Do you mind if we meet at trendy-suburban-type restaurant instead?" Well. Okay. Getting a little miffed now that I'm already ready for this date, but whatever. Maybe he doesn't like coffee. Maybe he had a bad experience at a coffee shop. Sure, okay. You're cute as a button. I'll meet you at the restaurant. He says, "Okay, great! I'll be waiting for you outside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I pull up to the restaurant, I slap on some lip-plumping gloss and check myself quickly in the rear view mirror. (Oh, you know you do it, too!) He's even MORE handsome in person! His pictures in no way give this boy justice. Wow. He flashes those pearly whites, and I'm glad to meet him at a dumpster, let alone a restaurant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, that was the best part of the entire date. It all goes downhill from there. There are just too many things that went wrong, so I'll keep this as short and sweet as possible with a list of this poor, poor man's dating transgressions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not ONE compliment. No, "wow, you look great!" or "you look nice." Nothing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not the kind of girl that fishes for compliments or even expects to be told how gloriously beautiful she is on the regular, but it seems to me that a gentleman should AT LEAST hand out a compliment on a first date!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He did two tours of combat in Iraq. Yeah. PTSD much? Not sure I want to end up on the wrong end of his military-issued piece one night while he's having a flashback.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Talks incessantly about himself the entire time. He didn't ask any questions about me. It's not that I like talking about myself and want to bogart the conversation, but NO interest in me or my life whatsoever? Dude, you just REALLY don't ever want to get past a first date or ever get laid, right?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Come to find out, he picked this specific restaurant because it's within walking distance of his house. Apparently, he got 3 DUIs which landed his ass in prison for a year. Hence, no license and no Starbucks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Last and definitely not least... As we are finishing up our meal, a woman and her friend walk into the bar area where we are sitting. Warren says hello, but they both give him a dirty look. They position themselves at the end of the bar, where they have a perfect view of us at one of the smaller tables. He tells me that this woman is someone that he was dating recently who is now "stalking" him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Do I even have to tell y'all how disappointing this entire date was? Where the hell do these people come from? It's like the losery of the loserest seem to find me, trick me with their handsome looks, intelligent, thoughtful conversation, and then BAM! hit me with the kickers once they've finally got me somewhere awkward and inescapable, at least without being rude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm one of THOSE girls now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I got a free meal out of it. -- Although, Ramen noodles and the 3rd season of Weeds while curled on the couch with my dog would have been a MUCH preferred alternative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-5788374205151940042?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/5788374205151940042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/must-i-be-tortured-for-free-meal.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5788374205151940042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/5788374205151940042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/must-i-be-tortured-for-free-meal.html' title='Must I Be Tortured for a Free Meal?'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-7301386244663626091</id><published>2010-05-10T00:50:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T19:48:53.095-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='online dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the douchebag files'/><title type='text'>Thanks for the Non-Date, Dr. Jekyll... or is it Mr. Hyde?</title><content type='html'>I met him on &lt;a href="http://www.plentyoffish.com/"&gt;PoF&lt;/a&gt;. His profile picture was adorable! Nothing crazy stood out in his profile monologue... We had two amazing phone conversations and lots of talk about getting together for a date this weekend. Several times he told me how beautiful I was, how much he enjoyed talking to me, and how he just couldn't stop thinking about me and that he was really excited to see me. Surprisingly, (or, maybe NOT surprisingly, since this IS the online dating world we're talking about here) that's when things started going downhill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "So, would you ever consider eating more healthy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What do you mean? Are you trying to say Lucky Charms and a cigarette aren't everyone's standard breakfast?" [as I lightly chuckle at my pseudo-joke]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: [long silence]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What do you mean by 'eating more healthy?' I mean, I enjoy a good meal with all of the basic food groups. I eat salad now and then. I love vegetables. But, I don't go out of my way to eat whole grain and tofu, if that's what you're saying..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Well... just so you know, I haven't had anything processed or chocolate for at least 2 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: [blink blink]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "I was just wondering if you would ever change your eating habits for someone, because I'm not sure if I could ever be with someone who eats junk all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: [blink blink] "Ummmm... If you're asking me to give up chocolate to go on a date with you, you've got delusions of grandeur, dude."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This second bit of conversation should be read with the understanding that my online dating profile CLEARLY states that I am a smoker. Also, during our previous great conversations, this topic had come up, and he acted like it was no big deal, especially since I have no plans on being a lifelong smoker and do plan on quitting eventually...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "So, if we were to kiss, would you brush your teeth before we did?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: [what the hell?? this guy is talking about kissing, and we haven't even gone on a date yet!] "Umm... well... I guess I would before we went to bed if we were living together or got more intimate later on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Because someone who smokes REALLY turns me off, and I would want them to wash their hands and brush their teeth before kissing me or coming near me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hmmm. It sounds like this is a deal breaker for you. I have to honestly say that I would not brush my teeth after all 10 cigarettes I smoke a day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "Yeah, well. This is really going to be a problem for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ya think, guy? Yeah, why on earth would he even click on my profile and get to the point of 2 conversations into plans for a date and getting me all excited if he felt this way? Grrrrr! What a waste of my breath and time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning after our phone conversation, I sent him a text message that went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hey, B. Too many red flags.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure the date is a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, there were a few other red flags before the featured conversations above. The fact that he called me about 7 times in the span of 2 days. The fact that he lectured me about checking my &lt;a href="http://www.plentyoffish.com/"&gt;PoF&lt;/a&gt; account when I should be focusing on one person (him). The fact that he volunteered the information that he is pretty jealous when he's in a relationship, but that he's "learned his lesson" and is "working on it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just steadily kept getting turned off, and I guess the diet thing and the smoking thing were the weird clinchers. At least I dodged a bullet. At least my douchebag radar worked this time... Because guess what his reply to my text was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeah, I wasn't interested anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;***UPDATE***  No call all weekend from Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, but he sends me a random picture of him this evening.  WTF?  I do not want pictures of you, dude.  I wish that I had some sort of snarky reply to his picture, but I'm just speechless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****UPDATE x2**** Two more texts were received from this prize of a guy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Text 1: "WTF my nigga." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shit you not.  That is EXACTLY what the text said.  I. Have. No. Words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Text 2:  (sent 2 days later) "I really want to see you."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  This guy is...  priceless.  My reply?  "I thought you 'weren't that interested anyway?'  I take that to mean one of two things.  Either you really weren't that interested anyway or it was a juvenile reply to me turning your ass down for a date.  There are no do-overs for a first impression."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-7301386244663626091?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/7301386244663626091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/thanks-for-non-date-dr-jekyll-or-is-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/7301386244663626091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/7301386244663626091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/thanks-for-non-date-dr-jekyll-or-is-it.html' title='Thanks for the Non-Date, Dr. Jekyll... or is it Mr. Hyde?'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-6669431940084438064</id><published>2010-05-04T21:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T18:57:26.685-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='single life'/><title type='text'>Love Sick</title><content type='html'>As I watch my sister and her boyfriend leave the apartment for dinner tonight, I'm standing on the balcony smoking and watching them walk to their car. I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy and loneliness at the fact that in 10 days I'll be turning 30, and I don't have that. I don't have that laughter, comfort, and constancy of a partner to share it with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah... I've kinda been seeing this guy, E, but I feel like I'm forcing it when I'm with him. There's really nothing that I can put my finger on that makes me say, "nope, he's a douche." He looks GREAT on paper: Good looking, kind, great job, responsible, owns property, good father, totally ga-ga over me, etc. etc. But, I just don't get butterflies when I'm with him. I don't feel excited about the next time I'll see him. I don't watch the clock in anticipation of the next time I'll be in his arms. I feel very nonchalant about the whole thing. "I guess I'll go out with E tonight since I have nothing better to do..." Yeah. Definitely not my idea of the kind of relationship I'm looking for right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have apple cheeks. I want to have a perma-grin. I want to flop on my bed with a huge sigh after a date with THE ONE and exclaim that I am just so happy and so sprung by this guy. I don't want to have to analyze my feelings for someone. I just want to feel them and revel in it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm worried that it's never going to happen for me. Logically, I know that I'm a catch. I know there are "lots of fish in the sea." I know that there is a man out there that is going to make me feel that way again... But, when I'm alone and lonely, it's hard to get out of the negative thought cycle... dwelling on the fact that it's been almost a year since I broke up with M and still haven't found someone who gets my toes tingling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could make one wish today, it would be to find out if love is ever going to enter my life again in an all-consuming, happy, and delirious way like it has in the past and like others seem to have. Have I met my love quota already and blew it? If I at least knew it was going to happen eventually, I could relax and just enjoy life being single. If I could know that eventually I'll feel those butterflies, it wouldn't matter if it happens next week or 5 years from now... at least I'd know it's out there for me and I have something to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just hard living with the unknown. Feeling the weeks, months, and years pass by wanting something so badly, but not knowing how to make it happen or at least put yourself in a situation that will make it more likely to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime... I work hard, pray hard, spend time with my family, and bide my time hoping that there's someone out there feeling the same way as I do, and it's just a matter of time before we meet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-6669431940084438064?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/6669431940084438064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-i-watch-my-sister-and-her-boyfriend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/6669431940084438064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/6669431940084438064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-i-watch-my-sister-and-her-boyfriend.html' title='Love Sick'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-825718532114678839</id><published>2010-04-26T12:09:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T18:45:33.417-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexual healing'/><title type='text'>How to Have Sex (With Me)</title><content type='html'>A certain &lt;strike&gt;girl&lt;/strike&gt; woman, and I'm not naming names, got a little lucky the other night. *wink wink* Yeah, okay, you guessed it. It was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so, anyway... I've had a little experience in my life with mattress dancing (still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing), as I am in my late 20s and still not married (I just threw up in my mouth a little when I typed that). Through the years, I have come across the gamut of sexual styles. There's been some REALLY bad ones and a few REALLY good ones. The good ones have been few and far between. Sadly, and more often than not, good sex and a great personality sans commitment phobia usually do not go hand in hand. Mama always told me that I had to &lt;strike&gt;screw&lt;/strike&gt; kiss a lot of frogs before I found my prince!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, these lips are gettin' sore! (pun unintended, but it makes me laugh, so I'm leaving it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few tips for my future prince (and I'm sure most women will agree with me here):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;It's Not a Race, People&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is everyone is such a hurry these days? Don't they always say, 'it's not the destination, but the journey?' It's not a race, dude. My ass is not a piece of concrete, and your dick is not a jackhammer. Take things slow. I promise the big O will come in it's own time without a frantic fight to the finish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;BJ Etiquette&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Bathe, please.&lt;/span&gt; I do not want to smell the sweat on your balls from your morning run. I do not enjoy "fromunda" cheese buildup from a long day at the office. I know you don't live in a barn. I know you know what soap is. Use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Trim up the boys.&lt;/span&gt; Exploring the jungle is not on my bucket list. Little hairs in between my teeth is not the sexy look I was going for when I went down under. Just show us girls a little kindness and give your nether regions a little once over with the razor. I promise, you will get more hummers and live a happier life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Keep your hands away from my hair, ears, back of my head.&lt;/span&gt; I know that I am good at what I do. I know it feels good. I know you want more. But, please, keep your paws off of me and don't try to force yourself down my throat. It freaks us girls out! We like a take-charge, virile kinda guy, but using my ears as handlebars makes me feel a wee bit out of control of the situation. Lay back... relax... don't be such a caveman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Don't expect miracles.&lt;/span&gt; Just because I do it once or even once in awhile does not mean that you can expect it each and every throw down in the bedroom. We girls enjoy making you feel good! We really do, despite what you think, enjoy being little naughty minxes now and again. But, we don't like to feel pressured about it. Honestly, the less you talk about it... the less you guide our head towards your crotch during a make-out session... the more of a chance you've got at some oral action. Just be patient. Good things come to patient boys who act pleasantly surprised when they get a BJ and not pouty when they don't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Touch Me&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah. I know where your dirty little mind went. Of course, my love button needs pushing, but please realize it is NOT the only organ on my entire body. In fact, I have a very large organ that doesn't quite get the love it deserves sometimes: my skin. Yes. Many men focus on the nipples and the clitoris. That's all well and good, of course, because isn't that what it's all about when you get right down to it? On the flip side, though, I have one million other places on my body that feel good when you touch them, too, before the main event. Stroke my skin. Stroke my face. Stroke my hair. Kiss every inch of me before you even dare coming close to those oh so sensitive areas that you love to hone in on. The more you stay AWAY from those areas, the more I'll be begging you to touch them. It's like reverse psychology or something. Make her think you're not gonna nibble on her nipples or play with her hoo-ha, and you'll have her in a sweaty puddle before your feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Keep Insecurities Away From the Bedroom&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are ALL insecure about our bodies. We are ALL insecure about our abilities in the bedroom. (Well, most of us, except for me... I've got skillz. *wink wink*) It is normal to be nervous the first time you sleep with someone. It is even normal to be bashful the 5th time you sleep with someone! But, for goodness sake, please do not ask me a million times if it feels good. Please do not tell me that you are intimidated by me. Please do not say, "it's been awhile, hopefully I can remember how to do this right." Shut your trap and just DO IT! I know that this might sound harsh and might sound like I'm snubbing my nose at statements that should otherwise be considered compliments, but insecurity in a man is the biggest turn off to me. It's okay for you to feel insecure and scared, but please don't show it in the bedroom if you want me to pant your name and make the O sound. I like my man to at least appear to be in control and confident in his abilities. Even if you AREN'T that great in the sack, confidence will take you a long way, baby, and garner points for more horizontal dancing in the future!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr color="gray" size="8" width="50%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there you go. Follow those few suggestions, boys, and you'll be rocking &lt;strike&gt;my&lt;/strike&gt; her socks off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand... Halfway through writing this, I realized that I may still be single because I'm a picky, bossy bitch in the bedroom... Sigh... Oh well. Maybe a clean, well-trimmed, considerate, confident, slow-like-honey future lover is out there reading this. I can always dream, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9XW64Qw-wI/AAAAAAAAABQ/rzx94RhBmVs/s1600/royston_blogthis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 246px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464510029907426050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9XW64Qw-wI/AAAAAAAAABQ/rzx94RhBmVs/s320/royston_blogthis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-825718532114678839?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/825718532114678839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-to-have-sex-with-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/825718532114678839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/825718532114678839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-to-have-sex-with-me.html' title='How to Have Sex (With Me)'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9XW64Qw-wI/AAAAAAAAABQ/rzx94RhBmVs/s72-c/royston_blogthis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3606890435117081342.post-8054968227592499801</id><published>2010-04-24T22:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T18:44:29.573-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petastic'/><title type='text'>Ear Mite Adventure</title><content type='html'>I live in a zoo. Yes, I have several breeds of animals in a 2-bedroom apartment... So, as any pet owner knows, there are lots of questionable messes to clean up along the road of pet ownership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had our fair share of puke, diarrhea, and hairballs on the carpet, on shoes, and yes, even on a pile of clean laundry. (Yeah, that was a bad day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the latest pet mess takes the cake. My beloved Maximus has ear mites. According to Google, ear mites are tiny little fuckers that can't really be seen with the naked eye (and that's a direct quote, y'all). They are white and tiny and creepy crawl all over the inside of dog and cat ears. That's not the grossest part of it, though. What's nasty is that the ear mites leave waste behind... This waste turns into an icky, coffee-ground, brownish, skanky funk that invades poor Max's ears and looks like chunks of... well... chunks of something nasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I was more &lt;strike&gt;brave&lt;/strike&gt; bored than usual (but, also felt a little sorry for the poor guy) and decided to take a crack at a home remedy for these mites or at least try to pry some of them out with a Q-tip...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I'm straddling my 30-pound cat and holding his head down in a wrestling move any coach would be proud of, I realize that we don't need a Q-tip here... We need a BUSH HOG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, those little nasties have pretty much taken up permanent residence in Max's ear holes and invited all the other mites in the neighborhood, too, for a great big down home critter bar-b-q. It takes a village, I guess... UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little does Max know, but I'm about to pour some slippery, slimy oil into his poor head. Apparently, the vegetable or olive oil will smother the mites and also loosen up the chunks. Yum. I'm sitting on the kitchen floor with my bottle of extra virgin olive oil, Q-tips, cotton balls, and some other kind of balls (because, you know... performing any sort of procedure on a cat takes cojones). Carefully, I inspect the inside of his blocked up, foul-smelling, blackened ears and let a few drops of olive oil slime into the canal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Just a forewarning to any pet owners thinking about using this seemingly innocent and cheap home remedy... Bad idea, unless you're in a tiled room with a shower nozzle within reach. Max got irritated by the slime in his ear (of course... silly me for not thinking that far ahead) and let loose with shaking his head like crazy, and all of these blobs of ear mite goop came flying out and all over the kitchen floor, cabinets, his fur, and me. Fun times, y'all. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the initial explosion of black blobs, the rest of the gunk was pretty easily wiped out of his ears. I only threw up in my mouth a little bit, too! Oh, the things I do for my animals. I disinfected the kitchen floor, cabinets, and counters and washed my hands like a schizophrenic person with OCD, and the deed was done. I'm positive that the mess got completely cleaned up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as I'm sitting here eating a banana off the counter, I see Maximus walk by shaking his head....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm. Maybe I'll do the mite procedure in the bathtub next time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9OtF8IFKrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5h8AWMA87Rc/s1600/maximus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463901090481515186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9OtF8IFKrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5h8AWMA87Rc/s320/maximus.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3606890435117081342-8054968227592499801?l=twentynineforever.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/feeds/8054968227592499801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/04/ear-mite-adventure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8054968227592499801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3606890435117081342/posts/default/8054968227592499801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentynineforever.blogspot.com/2010/04/ear-mite-adventure.html' title='Ear Mite Adventure'/><author><name>29 Forever</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12600181192380596699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/TASq4pjd33I/AAAAAAAAAB8/J_3GiFrMYHE/S220/19735_1225539676796_1178131304_30573942_6837253_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bULdySFBOj4/S9OtF8IFKrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5h8AWMA87Rc/s72-c/maximus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
