<?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-1188629463206892973</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:04:23.148-08:00</updated><category term='love.'/><title type='text'>Yes, I have a mind.</title><subtitle type='html'>If we really looked through the layers of our souls, would we mark the line of sane and insane?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6327803206825615674</id><published>2009-10-11T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T00:30:36.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm absolutely terrified of reality smacking me in the face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-6327803206825615674?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6327803206825615674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-absolutely-terrified-of-reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6327803206825615674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6327803206825615674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-absolutely-terrified-of-reality.html' title=''/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-5095677831522445956</id><published>2009-10-08T12:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T13:09:04.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>Never mind, I'm not going to rant. Not as mad anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-5095677831522445956?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/5095677831522445956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/10/rant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/5095677831522445956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/5095677831522445956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/10/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6484852791364207995</id><published>2009-08-11T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T20:06:43.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Book</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;*I wrote this yesterday on Tumblr. I wanted to write it on here too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am just like one of those books tucked under the shelf.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Most of the people in the world choose not to even bother looking at the cover.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The ones that do, a lot of them quickly decide they do not want to read it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Then, there are a special few, that &lt;b&gt;do&lt;/b&gt; choose to read it. They get to read the plain text. The story.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And the really smart ones find the heart behind the plain text. The author’s, how do you call them, secrets?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;However, some of these people, most of these people, decide to close the book without finishing the story. And that is fine. Some, close it without a choice.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The story may be long. Few actually manage to finish it. Even fewer understand it even a little bit.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Then, it comes to the author. The one who knows everything about the story. Absolutely everything. The one who has written every detail, made every ink blot, and has read over it probably thousands of more times than the others. Who loves it, and if in this case, the story loves it too. In this case,&lt;b&gt; it’s God&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-6484852791364207995?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6484852791364207995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-book.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6484852791364207995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6484852791364207995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-book.html' title='My Book'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-9158208004300367933</id><published>2009-08-09T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:24:24.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Hello! I have not posted in a month, I know. But if you have stopped by my Tumblr anytime soon, you will see I have been posting in that a lot. My consistency with Tumblr and the random times I write in here sort of bother me to some point, but my laziness prevents me from doing something to stop it. So, come by my Tumblr if you want more things to read. I am probably talking to myself, hm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, what a nice day today. I really want to go to Magic Mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that point, all my family is gone. I can't say, FINALLY!&lt;br /&gt;Because, I really like having company besides school friends around here.&lt;br /&gt;I know I have God, but I guess it is cool having some family around. Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-9158208004300367933?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/9158208004300367933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/08/thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/9158208004300367933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/9158208004300367933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/08/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-3974441020629396481</id><published>2009-07-26T00:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T01:17:23.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Computer Problems</title><content type='html'>Despite having God by my side, I feel L O S T.&lt;br /&gt;It is all coming down to this point.&lt;br /&gt;School is on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;My cousins are leaving this morning.&lt;br /&gt;My computer is not charging. Well, actually, it is off and not turning on at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;I am in San Diego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel completely hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone...&lt;br /&gt;will be gone...&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make myself feel better.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, instead of praying to God about how I feel, I am blogging and using Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;I am really stupid.&lt;br /&gt;1. Stupid for even worrying about these events&lt;br /&gt;2. and stupid for not doing anything about it&lt;br /&gt;3. just plain stupid.&lt;br /&gt;HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;I am in a better mood for some reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-3974441020629396481?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3974441020629396481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/computer-problems.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3974441020629396481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3974441020629396481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/computer-problems.html' title='Computer Problems'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6352431165997703411</id><published>2009-07-23T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T23:50:09.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinkability</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(216, 225, 233); line-height: 17px; font-family: arial;font-family:'Lucida Grande',Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Because I obviously have nothing to do except lie in bed, doing nothing, knowing that I’m not gonna be here for at least a month even if I go to family retreat, I will post random facts about myself. Let us make it a hundred, just for the special occasion, hm? By the by, these are in no particular order, they’re just what come in my mind first. *I edited number four, 18, and 34, because I was being sort of stupid then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I currently want a camera.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am on Yahoo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IM&lt;/span&gt; talking to my cousin Kyle at this very second.&lt;br /&gt;3. We are currently slightly arguing about his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; account that he had made to be in a relationship with Devonne &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lovato&lt;/span&gt; and his friend with benefits &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Gemma&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;4. I don’t really use my e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;5. I like apples, but not onions, too bad they taste the same when you plug your nose.&lt;br /&gt;6. I have formed a love for blogging.&lt;br /&gt;7. I think too much and usually my thoughts make me happy but in the end they make me sort of sad because I know that my thoughts are never going to actually happen. And most of my thoughts end up being suspicions, just like the old times. Maybe I should stop thinking as much, but then it feels like it would take away my ability to wonder about the world in a different way. Boy, this is a long fact.&lt;br /&gt;8. When I get excited I usually lose myself and end up being sort of on the selfish side like at this moment. I am really sorry God.&lt;br /&gt;9. At least every day, I log in to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;. Is it that bad?&lt;br /&gt;10. School is starting next week. Oh, joy.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have a deep love for drawing. I do it a lot. I might post one or two things I have made here, but they’re not really that awesome.&lt;br /&gt;12. I am currently listening to All Time Low.&lt;br /&gt;13. I really do want to try to fix things.&lt;br /&gt;14. These are not really facts, huh? It looks like I’m putting my feelings behind numbers. Here’s one: I like car rides with two people more than three, but it really just depends what people there are.&lt;br /&gt;15. I cannot choose which one I like more: glasses or contacts.&lt;br /&gt;16. I finally realized school is not everything, but it is something.&lt;br /&gt;17. I am a Christian. God is my love.&lt;br /&gt;18. I know, I’m pretty annoying sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;19. I tend to swear a lot in my head, I am currently trying not to.&lt;br /&gt;20. I do not like the fact that I have a year round school.&lt;br /&gt;21. A couple people have said I have changed a lot since last year. It feels like it. Have I really?&lt;br /&gt;22. I really thank God for coming into my life. What the heck would I be doing right now if I did not realize that before?&lt;br /&gt;23. I am only at twenty three, huh? I like to dream a lot.&lt;br /&gt;24. I have always wondered what I myself was going to feel when I was around 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;25. I hope my friends do not go away any time soon but nothing is eternal so I might as well cherish these moments.&lt;br /&gt;26. I have always wanted to live in San Francisco, ever since I was in kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;27. Has begun to extremely dislike planes.&lt;br /&gt;28. Has also been scared of airport security.&lt;br /&gt;29. Was thinking of calling someone while waiting at the airport for two hours.&lt;br /&gt;30. I really do love you, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;lola&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;PT 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I like potato chips yet I do not like them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am sensitive. Yet I always find a way to trick myself when I get hurt, make me think it was all a pure and simple joke. Like an experiment. That scientist part of me takes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ahold&lt;/span&gt; of me too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I have the best cousins ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I really wish I could find a “right” church for me back at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am researching churches right now. I want help. Where is Carlsbad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I often wonder if I am incomprehensibly smart or blind and obviously dumb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I have an alligator head in my room. A real one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I used to have a fear of roller coasters but it’s all good now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trusting people wholly is sort of a new thing for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I don’t know why I just made that bold font. Maybe to make a point?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It surprised me when Tyler Perry’s “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Madea&lt;/span&gt; Goes To Jail” was not entirely comedy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hayao&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Miyazaki&lt;/span&gt;’s movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I used to play Guitar Hero III a lot. Not proud that I can play extreme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I really only pick up my Bible once or twice a week. I really am ashamed of myself. I should do it more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I fail at things a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I often wonder if I am crazy or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I like popcorn, ramen, and Hong Kong Style Noodles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I dissected a frog once and it seemed dull to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;When I say something stupid and I notice, it leaves another idiot stamp on my forehead, along with the hundreds of other ones. Like Liana, “If it takes you a long time to get over my words, it will take me even longer.” (I don’t think I quoted that correctly)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I wish that someone would notice that side of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am half filipino and half white.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I sort of think the Jonas Brothers are okay. I don't really care for them much, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Rock, Christian Rock, Alternative, Pop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am currently reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I want earrings but I don't have my ears pierced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I currently have five working game systems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I dislike sand to some extent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I live around seven miles from Mexico.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I have a BlackBerry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I currently am getting worked up over Tumblr but Blogger is fine as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;PT. 3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I prefer facebook over myspace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I like the color blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I tend to forget pretty much everything in general. A lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;My room is messy due to my cousins' presence and I really want to clean it right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I am pretty much used to both hot and cold weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I am right handed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I don't like running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I don't care much for Hollister, but apparently my friends don't like it so I guess it isn't that nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I am a fatty. HA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I really want a funnel cake at this moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I have been trying to keep up A and B average in school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;People say I would not have even a tiny chance in the ghetto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I took beginning spanish, and forgot pretty much all of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;I guess I am seeing pandas at the zoo tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have never gotten a manicure or pedicure. I should get one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I haven't been to the dentist in around a year and a half.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My hopes and dreams for the future? Not really sure of them yet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Apparently we are not supposed to run with Converse.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I despise watching the news.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Anime and manga are a big point to me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to live in Guam.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I really want to ride a roller coaster right now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would want my life to be like an anime character's for at least one day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I want to play guitar.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A BMX bike sounds awesome.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to love Pokemon with a burning passion. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Staying at hotels are fun.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I once went snorkeling and saw a barracuda.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a wart on my hand.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes I wonder if I secretly have ADD because my attention span is really small most of the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I often dream subconsciously of what it would like if I was drunk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finishing things is hard for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a neat freak but I am too lazy to get up and make things neat.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;South Park and Fresh Prince.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I tend to speak in large words sometimes. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AIM is starting to get on my nerves a little bit. No, scratch that, my entire computer is.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like the journey more than the destination when it comes to long car rides.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish there was a like button on everything.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A BlackBerry is not that complicated if you spend some time with it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know what the last one should be, but it should go off with a bang. Let's just leave it as it is for now, hm?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I am done with this list. 100.&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/1188629463206892973-6352431165997703411?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6352431165997703411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-i-obviously-have-nothing-to-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6352431165997703411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6352431165997703411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-i-obviously-have-nothing-to-do.html' title='Thinkability'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1158556085789954498</id><published>2009-07-21T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T01:24:25.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart's Condition</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have already started utterly missing them!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am hopeless. I haven’t even left yet.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I wish I could just talk to someone from there on the phone but then it would be sort of awkward in a way I guess due to the fact I haven’t got on the plane and flown back home yet.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am still overly happy though because of how nice a night it was, hanging out with the church, praising God, eating froyo.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;(Thanks to Selene for treating me by the way even though she’ll probably not read this but I already said thank you so it’s okay I guess but I will say thank you again but it kind of feels like I’m just saying it to myself.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I WILL MISS IT. A LOT.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Just like every time, my vacation here goes by so fast, and it is so amazing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But then life back home goes so slow and nothing really awesome happens, maybe a movie or two with my friends or should I say acquaintances every couple weeks, but it doesn’t have the same feeling of contentment.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;With God, I should always be content, but when I’m with my friends from San Francisco I’m more than content.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Don’t get me wrong, God makes me happiest. But somehow I feel a ton more happier with my friends in SF than my friends in SD.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;They’re the closest I have to family. And, truth be told, I love both my family and friends.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;*SIGH*&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Is this what results to moving so much? Making close friends for the first time is a nice feeling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But missing them is really a lot worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-1158556085789954498?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1158556085789954498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-hearts-condition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1158556085789954498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1158556085789954498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-hearts-condition.html' title='My Heart&apos;s Condition'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-3912437700092845704</id><published>2009-07-21T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T01:23:38.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a strange kind of feeling.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed, that when two people are in a car, they talk about hecka random stuff all the way until the ride is over, but when there are three, it’s really awkward and quiet? Well this might apply sometimes, but it's a lot easier to talk when there's only two, right? Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-3912437700092845704?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3912437700092845704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-strange-kind-of-feeling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3912437700092845704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3912437700092845704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-strange-kind-of-feeling.html' title='It&apos;s a strange kind of feeling.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6159165081020382786</id><published>2009-07-15T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T00:46:26.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Think The Air Might Be Suffocating Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;“Imagining that silent scream I always pulled off, I bravely moved on to the next ride, excited for what was to come.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I cannot believe I actually thought to say that when I got home and lazily watched Cartoon Network and typed on Blogger.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am so LAME!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I wasn’t actually going to say that though.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Oh well, today was nice, lots of thrills, but again, the happiness was temporary. I mean, honestly, before I found God, I was trying to search for the word “happiness”. I really didn’t know what it felt like and thought it was not true at all until I found my Father. For a while, after I rode my first thrill ride a couple years ago, I thought that the simple feeling of the changing background every second, the wind pelting your face, and the screaming of the people sitting next to you was “happiness”. All I can say to that now is wow, I was really ignorant back then.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-6159165081020382786?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6159165081020382786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-think-air-might-be-suffocating-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6159165081020382786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6159165081020382786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-think-air-might-be-suffocating-me.html' title='I Think The Air Might Be Suffocating Me.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-4092572439070148726</id><published>2009-07-13T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T01:03:05.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I HAVE</title><content type='html'>A Tumblr!&lt;br /&gt;Itsfirelandnotdisneyland.tumblr.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,&lt;br /&gt;the post I wrote earlier on tumblr:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="regular"&gt;                             &lt;h2&gt;&lt;a href="http://itsfirelandnotdisneyland.tumblr.com/post/140048268/i-honestly"&gt;["I honestly&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;                             &lt;p&gt;need to read the Bible right now. Figure things out. I do make too many mistakes, and to say that I’m truely trying to work on it is a lie. I think and wish that I would start to fix it, and I start to, but something just brings me down again. I wish I could help other people, instead of only myself. I really am selfish, and I know it. Honestly, I am really in a rocky situation right now, and yet, I’m not doing anything. It can’t always be like this, y’know. Someone yelling, screaming, and ignoring me after my mistakes isn’t helping. I will always make those dumb little mistakes, it’s pretty much been a part of me. Tripping on things, I don’t TRY to do those things. I say a lot of wrong things, but I don’t TRY to do those. I don’t want to cause trouble to anyone else, even if it hurts myself. Yet I don’t actually DO it. I’m living off my family even as we speak. How can I help both myself and others? How do I become closer to Him? What should I do? Honestly, I don’t know right now. I’m not just talking about my cousin, I’m talking about everyone else. I make too many mistakes, I have to be more mature. I need to start, yet I am not.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Posing questions to myself makes me more confused. Maybe I just need to talk to someone. Not vent to a person, but to God. He has a path, I know it. He gives blessings every single second of my day, I know that. I love him with all my heart. I just wish that I didn’t make so many dumb mistakes."]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a long talk with my older cousin about responsibility due to me forgetting my sock and my toothbrush and a lot of other things, I finally got it into my head that I don't have to do everything now. I will still make tons of mistakes, I just have to learn from them now, instead of sitting there trying to figure out how to grow up in a day. He was exactly right. I was trying to become an adult when I was most certainly not. Maybe I am like every other teenager. The problem lingering in my head is being the same. I don't want to be a rebel, but I never want to be that girl that gossips all the time about random useless things and goes around the school asking for lotion like hobos ask for food. I have God with me. "I am different." Oh well. I will let that thought linger in my head without trying to get it out, hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-4092572439070148726?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4092572439070148726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4092572439070148726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4092572439070148726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-have.html' title='I HAVE'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-7643736661611486742</id><published>2009-07-13T00:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:57:08.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Voices</title><content type='html'>As I walked in the room, my mind was constantly telling me that I didn’t belong there. I kept swerving from blushing to becoming dead silent. The one that was not invited, but was there anyway due to some circumstances.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-7643736661611486742?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/7643736661611486742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/voices.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/7643736661611486742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/7643736661611486742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/voices.html' title='Voices'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-4069997960367280585</id><published>2009-07-08T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T04:34:11.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Title:</title><content type='html'>Today, I blog for, well, I don't know. Nothing in particular, really. Just to write. To do something instead of lounging around, playing countless games of Egyptian War and eating McDonald s. Honestly, for the past three or so I have been doing nothing really "useful". Not one thing to prepare for the future, or the present itself. I'm just going with the flow. But, I actually kind of like it. Spending treasured moments with family and close friends. This is what I dream of every night at home. It is a blessing. Whenever I am reminded of home, I freeze and wonder about those nights all alone, simply thinking about when I would come back to the place I adore. This is not my home. I know that. But almost everything I love is in the place that is nowhere near the piece of land where I sleep, eat, and go to school every day. I often wonder why God did this, and keep saying to myself, it's to make me stronger. It's hard though. I have friends, but they're strangers to me that I have barely met. Well, I could not really call them friends, if I describe them that way. Maybe I am being too dramatic. Obviously, I am not going to stay here much longer. I do not want to bother with the future to come. Yet, I am being constantly touched by the people of home, being told over and over again about this "future". I know, that is a good thing. I love my parents. I should pay more attention to them. I should hug them more. I should tell them that I appreciate them more. I should not flinch every time my father hugs me. I should not feel aggravated when my mother tries to tell me what to do. I should be stronger. I should be smarter. I should care more about other people. I should put away useless time wasted on the computer for God. I should swear less. I should yell less. I should cry less. I should stop bragging in my head. I should stop staying up late. I should stop thinking of my friends and appearance so much. I should stop worrying about the future. I should stop being so selfish. I'm so far from perfect. I'm not even half. I'm not even one-fourth. Despite that, God still loves me as I am. I cannot imagine how anyone could love me so much. But God does, right? He loves me despite all my imperfections. He loves me no matter what. Even knowing that, I still need to change myself and become more focused so I can grow with my Savior. My Father. My Friend. So I won't lose hope. God made me bloom as a Christian. My past is supposed to be gone. Not completely gone, because the past will not be erased from your system no matter what. I believe the past was made so you could take pride on how you had overcome all those trials. And remember how you got to this very moment. Nice time, recalling the past and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Past, Present, Future...&lt;br /&gt;What a nice gift.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-4069997960367280585?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4069997960367280585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/today-i-blog-for-well-i-dont-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4069997960367280585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4069997960367280585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/07/today-i-blog-for-well-i-dont-know.html' title='Title:'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6226542140891699606</id><published>2009-06-29T10:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T10:57:00.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mica the Retarded Fish.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SkkASiSHGFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/7JwT3dK3nu0/s1600-h/030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352809950546958418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SkkASiSHGFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/7JwT3dK3nu0/s200/030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"Mica the retarded fish"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love drawing it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-6226542140891699606?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6226542140891699606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/mica-retarded-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6226542140891699606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6226542140891699606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/mica-retarded-fish.html' title='Mica the Retarded Fish.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SkkASiSHGFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/7JwT3dK3nu0/s72-c/030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1791295683325691556</id><published>2009-06-29T00:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T02:03:21.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Toppled</title><content type='html'>I am feeling ________.&lt;br /&gt;You know, I cannot really describe this in one word.&lt;br /&gt;It's been an amazingly great week with family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;I should be really thankful. Well, I am. Very.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I can't help but to feel a vague feeling&lt;br /&gt;that I don't really belong there.&lt;br /&gt;It's stupid, I realize that.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about this for a while, and, well, San Francisco seems simply an escape from my life back at home. And I really like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I am aware that I can't always be here. That someday, there will be no more staying here for a month, or even a week, because I would become too old to plop in my aunt's house. It should be now. My parents were even hinting me. And I feel bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite knowing that, I know I have some problems to solve. And being here will help, I think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My spiritual situation is on the rocks. I can't find the spark, for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;Is it because of those nights staying up at two in the morning, being so tired that I can't even pray a decent prayer anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heck, I haven't opened a Bible in a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I think about it, I really needed Youth Retreat. It's done with, though. God did it for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents need me, though.. Even though I'm just a kid, I think I'm the one who has to take action in the family. I've been too scared to do anything myself. Even though they're adults, they're acting like children a lot. Not to judge, because I am extremely immature myself, but, still. If you saw them, you'd understand. I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to try. I'm not even succeeding in my diet. These worries, taking over my head. So stupid. I really need to read over one or two of my posts to get a hold of myself. Then have a long talk with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's wrong with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drip, drop. Drip, drop.&lt;br /&gt;I need to fix things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-1791295683325691556?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1791295683325691556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/toppled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1791295683325691556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1791295683325691556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/toppled.html' title='Toppled'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-3915637987583172714</id><published>2009-06-25T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T23:21:54.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think this is</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ez_HBLbZr28&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ez_HBLbZr28&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;cool.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-3915637987583172714?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3915637987583172714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-think-this-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3915637987583172714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3915637987583172714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-think-this-is.html' title='I think this is'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1412733032481779862</id><published>2009-06-21T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T21:53:18.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day.</title><content type='html'>I know I've been writing in this thing too much, but...&lt;div&gt;I hate it when someone tells me I look like my dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I shouldn't use the word hate...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, my dad is cool and an awesome guy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;don't want to be told I look like him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-1412733032481779862?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1412733032481779862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1412733032481779862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1412733032481779862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-853515065887374575</id><published>2009-06-18T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T20:13:49.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone has a first, right?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I love pictures. I'm sure you would too. ANYWAY.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjsA567QRwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Qr10mbHZ7cs/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348869977502926594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjsA567QRwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Qr10mbHZ7cs/s200/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, well, actually yesterday, I hung out with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;And, well, we hung out for a bit, and saw her friend or something.&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was all going fine and okay, but...&lt;br /&gt;Then he started talking about how he did bud and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;And invited us.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I said NO of course.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;But it surprises me that people in seventh grade already do weed and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;I really haven't kept up with the times, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I saw a stoned seventh grader. Not pretty. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I swear, people get dumber and dumber each day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-853515065887374575?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/853515065887374575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/everyone-has-first-right.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/853515065887374575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/853515065887374575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/everyone-has-first-right.html' title='Everyone has a first, right?'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjsA567QRwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Qr10mbHZ7cs/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-4304925878966317196</id><published>2009-06-16T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:53:59.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To put it simply,</title><content type='html'>I am bored.&lt;div&gt;And, for this post, I will write whatever is on my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been pessimistic lately, for some reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it's due to being cooped up in this house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been on a diet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's hard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, I just have to remind myself to keep going forward.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my birthday is coming up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On July 2nd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm celebrating it in San Francisco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frankly, I am not good at planning anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sincerely wish I could have Ate Joy's awesome planning skills on my side right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parents want my party to be on July 4th.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bleh, not good at this kind of stuff, once again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But putting that aside,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is there anything important to think about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since my last birthday, I haven't really thought much of my OWN birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another day closer to death.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another day to resemble the days you've gone through this world that gives no chances unless you fight for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, this is nothing related to God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe God is...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;indescribable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a good way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, how was my day?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finished Touching Spirit Bear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A nice book, but sort of an abrupt ending?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it would be strange with any other possible outcome though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ran on the treadmill a little bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But ended up eating Taco Bell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In all seriousness,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;even when I'm with God,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know in my other post I said I always felt &lt;i&gt;nice, &lt;/i&gt;and I still do, but&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's just hard sometimes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be optimistic all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I'm not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard to keep up that feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'd think since it's summer, you'd be relieved and not feel any of these feelings, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just the feeling of pure &lt;i&gt;relief&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I thought so too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I should have expected that life would still hand me trials.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in the end, they're blessings in disguise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although they don't seem like it, they can make you stronger in person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A benefit in disguise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or it can be blunt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Creating yet another blessing in disguise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It feels like a circle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking in a circle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet the line is so easy to astray from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AH, STOP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should be thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm getting confused just writing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, moving to another topic before this eats me up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hm, what else happened?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got to finish two of Miyazaki's movies today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did some of my mom's bills with my trusty calculator.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, I'm writing in this blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love writing here, seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-4304925878966317196?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4304925878966317196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-put-it-simply.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4304925878966317196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4304925878966317196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-put-it-simply.html' title='To put it simply,'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-5958809960148376709</id><published>2009-06-16T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T19:14:00.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Studio Ghibli</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjhRWO-Y2BI/AAAAAAAAAD4/0pBNKeVha5k/s1600-h/spirited_away_18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjhRWO-Y2BI/AAAAAAAAAD4/0pBNKeVha5k/s200/spirited_away_18.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348113999921207314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjhQbDm8B1I/AAAAAAAAADw/EeAV8gHGJZo/s1600-h/HayaoMiyazaki.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjhQbDm8B1I/AAAAAAAAADw/EeAV8gHGJZo/s200/HayaoMiyazaki.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348112983257778002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well,&lt;div&gt;I have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watching &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;non-stop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;movies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for the past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;two or three days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't really remember which.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've only really watched movies from Hayao Miyazaki, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's a real genius man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Spirited Away&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Howl's Moving Castle&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kiki's Delivery Service&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(part of)&lt;b&gt;Grave of Fireflies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Princess Mononoke&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(most of)&lt;b&gt;My Neighbor Totoro&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(and currently watching)&lt;b&gt;The Girl who Leapt Through Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That's pretty much all I've watched so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'll have plenty of opportunities to watch the rest of his movies (I've probably only gone through around half) through the next week, because I really can't go anywhere outside of the neighborhood because I can't drive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love his movies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A lot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;They're nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And they deserve more publicity in the USA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;How did I come across these?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, when I was a tiny little kid, I remember watching &lt;b&gt;Kiki's Delivery Service&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then, when I was six (or seven) I watched &lt;b&gt;Spirited Away&lt;/b&gt; in theaters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And in fifth grade or so I came across &lt;b&gt;Howl's Moving Castle&lt;/b&gt; on DVD at my friend's house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And was obsessed with it for a couple days -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then dropped it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Couple months ago, I became obsessed again during my spring break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then I dropped it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now, it's summer, and I'm yet watching more of Studio Ghibli's movies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anyway, that was probably heartbreakingly boring to read.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My point is?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you ever have the time,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;go and check one out.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I suggest starting out with Spirited Away.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;They're really beautiful.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And, they're easy to find if you look in the right places.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Okay. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I am currently done with this post of obsession.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-5958809960148376709?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/5958809960148376709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/studio-ghibli.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/5958809960148376709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/5958809960148376709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/studio-ghibli.html' title='Studio Ghibli'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjhRWO-Y2BI/AAAAAAAAAD4/0pBNKeVha5k/s72-c/spirited_away_18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-3992828816463577434</id><published>2009-06-15T11:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T19:51:24.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words make me think.</title><content type='html'>"I used to think that you were strong-minded, but now you don't seem like it anymore." &lt;div&gt;My dad said that a couple days ago to me, and it made me wonder. Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do believe that I have a strong mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alexis is gay by the way. (lol) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what you get for calling my blog stupid! Well, that's not a really "that's what you get", but you get what I'm talking about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Watch Pan's Labyrinth! Nice movie. ^_^&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-3992828816463577434?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3992828816463577434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/words-make-me-think.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3992828816463577434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3992828816463577434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/words-make-me-think.html' title='Words make me think.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-8785337777881515762</id><published>2009-06-11T17:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T15:58:05.671-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love.'/><title type='text'>Okay, so...</title><content type='html'>I was going to save this post for tomorrow when school ended, but, it wouldn't really matter anyway. It's been a nice school year. &lt;b&gt;Lots of ups and downs.&lt;/b&gt; Wait, not downs, but rather, &lt;i&gt;blessings in disguise.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;div&gt;Many things happened this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've changed. A lot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least, I'd like to think that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since I sincerely accepted God, my heart felt nice. Nice? I can't really explain it any other way than that extremely vague way of translating it. &lt;i&gt;Nice. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overwhelming, yet extremely &lt;i&gt;nice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filled, instead of empty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Content. Happy. I couldn't really say these words could even come close to describing my heart ever since it happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a much greater feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I moved schools, family issues occurred, and had a vague feeling of "home"sickness every time I went to bed, I still felt &lt;i&gt;nice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had finally found a purpose to go on. Not good grades, or to have a nice million dollar house when I grow up, but God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Praying is an enjoyment, not a chore. I have come to love talking to God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanking him for my blessings, and although he probably already knows, telling him about what happened in the day and how I felt about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I regularly pray now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A year ago, I never even thought about God, or about any other people other than myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought everyone had a purpose for themselves in everything they did. A motive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was so foolish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I learned to love that one day, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 23rd, 2008.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was aware of God before then, and slightly applying it, but that day was when it all happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's an indescribable feeling! A feeling so great, that there are no words to describe it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It puts me at peace just thinking of that incredible moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love all the people I've met. And you know who you are. (Because you know me, and that's why you're probably reading this.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've learned to open up to people, and become less shy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(I've had a few problems with that in the past, even now, but not as much.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've moved again, but I met a lot of new friends, and still have access (bad way to word it) to my old ones, unlike last time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt like I've grown up a lot during this year, and yet, I'm still a &lt;b&gt;selfish&lt;/b&gt; little kid in a way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;b&gt;say&lt;/b&gt; wrong things every single day of my life. My actions aren't always so good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, with God, I'll continue to be a stronger person, living through these blessings in disguise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-8785337777881515762?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/8785337777881515762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/okay-so.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/8785337777881515762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/8785337777881515762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/okay-so.html' title='Okay, so...'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1666873480240569975</id><published>2009-06-07T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T01:35:55.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, joy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/Sit5wPsiDxI/AAAAAAAAACI/CkzxQdeGcCo/s1600-h/Crane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/Sit5wPsiDxI/AAAAAAAAACI/CkzxQdeGcCo/s200/Crane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344499252559220498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is a little soon, but this is a historic moment. Well, no, it is not, but I want to share it.&lt;br /&gt;After four grueling hours of headaches, and an extra thirty minutes of nagging from my mother (She's still cool though), I finally got to transfer photos from my Blackberry to my computer! I can also transfer audio files, but that takes oh-so long. I can use video since I updated it, too. ANYWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my mother sort of mad today. What did I do? I said it was a stupid decision to stop in the middle of the street during a red light (that turned green right when she started), park, and pull the cover down in the sports car. That took ten seconds. People were probably pretty pissed at us. By the way, I did not mean for her to hear that. And I'm sorry. Not just because she said I could not go to San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned my room today. I ran all the way to East Lake Elementary School and back. I am awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate nachos. I sat on the computer for a couple hours. I am not awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would average for in between, hm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to see Up again. It was a truly awesome movie. It made me tear up. Five minutes into the movie, I was crying. Pixar has made a wonderful piece of art, once again. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Em1E1ifyu5M&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Track 3 of the Up soundtrack? &lt;/a&gt;The thing that did it all. The first five minutes was one of the best parts of the movie. All the parents crying and the kids confused? That's the nice part about it. Everyone can watch it. But, I hate how they sell tiny crayons and beginning chapter books to exploit movies. I think it just ruins it. I saw a beginning chapter book of the movie, and I could not help but to feel sad for a little bit. I know it's to make money, but you can't help but feel that it ruins it, just a little bit? Anyway, I love this movie, and I hope to watch it again. And I haven't seen Wall-e yet, but I'm looking forward to it. Anyone up for seeing Up with me? :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was overall an okay day. I did not get much accomplished, but it was one of those Saturdays when you slack off and do nothing, except for walk your dog or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for this day, every day to come, and every day that has passed, God! And by the way, I looked the soundtrack of Up on Youtube, and I'm thinking of buying it. It's the part that actually made me cry. That's really one of the only movies that made me CRY. (Not sob, but, you get the point.) This goes next to Spirited Away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I ended up talking about it again. Good night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Em1E1ifyu5M&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Em1E1ifyu5M&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-1666873480240569975?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1666873480240569975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-joy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1666873480240569975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1666873480240569975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-joy.html' title='Oh, joy!'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/Sit5wPsiDxI/AAAAAAAAACI/CkzxQdeGcCo/s72-c/Crane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-4175799194194330246</id><published>2009-06-05T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T23:35:14.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Relief.</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, I was panicked.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am relieved. Not just relieved, but a stronger word for that.&lt;br /&gt;I like being relieved. It's a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;But in the back of my head, I feel like I know it's going to go away sometime.&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't think that way, I know.&lt;br /&gt;It's oh so hard, though.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could stay optimistic. I don't.&lt;br /&gt;I start out that way, but I get brought down in the process.&lt;br /&gt;Problems seem like the world to me sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;They take over my head.&lt;br /&gt;And once it's over with, I find that I've spent so much time worrying, that I wasted more time doing that than actually handling the situation correctly.&lt;br /&gt;God is with me.&lt;br /&gt;I should know that.&lt;br /&gt;But do I always apply that? No.&lt;br /&gt;I'm far from perfect, I know.&lt;br /&gt;But, it would be good to just go.&lt;br /&gt;To charge head on whatever's coming my way,&lt;br /&gt;and not care whether it's big or not.&lt;br /&gt;To know that God's right by my side; I do,&lt;br /&gt;Between panicking and God, though, which do I usually choose?&lt;br /&gt;Thinking rationally doesn't work sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;How do I apply God to all my problems all the time? How do I apply him to my social life?&lt;br /&gt;I know I make some wrongs, but I make a couple of rights in between, too.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just forget. And it makes me feel weak.&lt;br /&gt;But I can do anything with Him.&lt;br /&gt;I can.&lt;br /&gt;I can.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-4175799194194330246?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4175799194194330246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/relief.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4175799194194330246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4175799194194330246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/relief.html' title='Relief.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-3148042515074010186</id><published>2009-06-01T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T19:58:17.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to install LOVE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I got this from gabe bondoc's tumblr. (I was just looking at a video and I came across it...) Yes, I do have a lot of time on my hands. Wait, scratch that, I don't, I just waste so much time even though I have little of it left. I SHOULD be studying for spanish finals right now, but I'm on here. Ah, gotta work that off. ANYWAYS.&lt;br /&gt;This was a nice read.&lt;br /&gt;gabebondoc.tumblr.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tech Support: &lt;/b&gt; Hello … how can I help you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Well, after much consideration, I’ve decided to install&lt;br /&gt;Love. Can you guide me through the process?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support: &lt;/b&gt;Yes. I can help you. Are you ready to proceed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: &lt;/b&gt;Well, I’m not very technical, but I think I’m ready. What do I do first?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support: &lt;/b&gt;The first step is to open your Heart. Have you&lt;br /&gt;located your Heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Yes, but there are several other programs running now.&lt;br /&gt;Is it okay to install Love while they are running?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; What programs are running ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Let’s see, I have Past Hurt, Low Self-Esteem, Grudge&lt;br /&gt;and Resentment running right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; No problem, Love will gradually erase Past Hurt&lt;br /&gt;from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent&lt;br /&gt;memory but it will no longer disrupt other programs. Love will&lt;br /&gt;eventually override Low Self-Esteem with a module of its own called High&lt;br /&gt;Self-Esteem. However, you have to completely turn off Grudge and&lt;br /&gt;Resentment. Those programs prevent Love from being properly installed.&lt;br /&gt;Can you turn those off ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; I don’t know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; With pleasure. Go to your start menu and invoke&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness. Do this as many times as necessary until Grudge and&lt;br /&gt;Resentment have been completely erased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: &lt;/b&gt;Okay, done! Love has started installing itself. Is that&lt;br /&gt;normal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; Yes, but remember that you have only the base&lt;br /&gt;program. You need to begin connecting to other Hearts in order to get&lt;br /&gt;the upgrades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Oops! I have an error message already. It says, “Error&lt;br /&gt;- Program not run on external components.” What should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; Don’t worry. It means that the Love program is set&lt;br /&gt;up to run on Internal Hearts, but has not yet been run on your Heart. In&lt;br /&gt;non-technical terms, it simply means you have to Love yourself before&lt;br /&gt;you can Love others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; So, what should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; Pull down Self-Acceptance; then click on the&lt;br /&gt;following files: Forgive-Self; Realize Your Worth; and Acknowledge your&lt;br /&gt;Limitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Okay, done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; Now, copy them to the “My Heart” directory. The&lt;br /&gt;system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching faulty&lt;br /&gt;programming. Also, you need to delete Verbose Self-Criticism from all&lt;br /&gt;directories and empty your Recycle Bin to make sure it is completely&lt;br /&gt;gone and never comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: &lt;/b&gt;Got it. Hey! My heart is filling up with new files.&lt;br /&gt;Smile is playing on my monitor and Peace and Contentment are copying&lt;br /&gt;themselves all over My Heart. Is this normal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support:&lt;/b&gt; Sometimes. For others it takes awhile, but&lt;br /&gt;eventually everything gets it at the proper time. So Love is installed&lt;br /&gt;and running. One more thing before we hang up. Love is Freeware. Be sure&lt;br /&gt;to give it and its various modules to everyone you meet. They will in&lt;br /&gt;turn share it with others and return some cool modules back to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer:&lt;/b&gt; Thank you, God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-3148042515074010186?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/3148042515074010186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-to-install-love.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3148042515074010186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/3148042515074010186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-to-install-love.html' title='How to install LOVE.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1612427297753542292</id><published>2009-05-28T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T23:43:47.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh,howthetimegoessoslow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/I/41GRPM1B86L._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/I/41GRPM1B86L._AA240_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am obsessed with music. Who isn't? Anyway, I've been feeling a little negative lately...wait, scratch that, not negative, but something sort of like that. Ugh, I hate to post a sob story, but, it feels like I'm not really close to many people. I have my family and all, but, I don't really want to bother them too much, because I know they're busy. Some of my cousins already think they're my only friends... I guess I'm a little insecure. I have friends, don't get me wrong, I'm not a loner, but I don't think it would be right to talk about personal things right after meeting them. I guess I wish I wasn't moving so much. I mean, I see all these people that have known each other for years, and in my heart, I wish, just a little, that I had those things too. Maybe I'm just too &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;block headed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I have my parents, but, I really don't feel like talking to them about my personal feelings all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know God is always there with me, but it's nice to get a person's opinion, maybe? That makes me sound sort of selfish. Maybe I am. Agh, I need to stop. I just wish I lived closer to the people I know and love. I have that wish a lot. But, I guess I'm stuck here in San Diego to make myself stronger. I'm not a people person, yet I move a lot. How ironic? I don't know, because all of these experiences have made me grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, I just went from being all bleh to talking about how...I am lucky? Not lucky, but blessed. There's always this tiny pulling feeling to want MORE though. Resisting is hard sometimes, and I think a lot of people know what I'm talking about. God, I need to stop this self-pity. It's making me all weak. I mean, there are people starving and getting killed in Africa and all, and I'm sitting here complaining. Praying is the best thing I can do right now, instead of writing on this blog. Look, I just gave myself the answer!...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-1612427297753542292?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1612427297753542292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/ohhowthetimegoessoslow.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1612427297753542292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1612427297753542292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/ohhowthetimegoessoslow.html' title='Oh,howthetimegoessoslow.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-1973443388530117872</id><published>2009-05-26T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T19:53:16.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>backspace.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/ShygKd5iKqI/AAAAAAAAABU/OQx2nkitogE/s1600-h/3e9af34ed4a8505e8d1be22b32ae8e75.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/ShygKd5iKqI/AAAAAAAAABU/OQx2nkitogE/s200/3e9af34ed4a8505e8d1be22b32ae8e75.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340319359839644322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kimberly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I sometimes read, but mostly for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'd like to think I was intelligent, but that's not really true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I tend to spill and trip over things a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I currently do not have a working camera. So, I take pictures from the internet. Dumb, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I like Hawk Nelson.&lt;br /&gt;Nice to meet you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what was I supposed to say?  I'm not sure if I can go to the &lt;a href="http://www.ocregister.com/articles/romey-cadillac-son-2402758-castillo-maynardo"&gt;funeral.&lt;/a&gt; It's really sad. Right when my cousin needs comfort, testing comes along, teachers are panicked, and the students are bombed with piles of homework. I really want to try to go, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I'm not going to youth retreat. My heart sank a little when I read my mom's text saying that there are no make-ups for finals at the end of the year, but I was prepared for that answer. Oh well, everyone can have fun without me. I've already had so many blessings, anyway. I can't always have things I want. I don't want to dwell on this. I've got more important things to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else? I'm supposed to go to San Francisco for the summer, ditching &lt;a href="http://www.comic-con.org/%20"&gt;Comic-con '09 in Sandy Eggo &lt;/a&gt;that I was supposed to go to with my friend. (It was a choice.) It's creepy how much I love San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, summarizing everything, I hope to go to Family Retreat '09, so I don't miss out. I need to get my grades up, or at least do well on the finals, or I'm screwed. School is ending in around three weeks. I should be focusing on much more important things right now, but I can't help it. Oh, well, I should stop wasting time on this post and get going.&lt;br /&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/1188629463206892973-1973443388530117872?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/1973443388530117872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/backspace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1973443388530117872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/1973443388530117872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/backspace.html' title='backspace.'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/ShygKd5iKqI/AAAAAAAAABU/OQx2nkitogE/s72-c/3e9af34ed4a8505e8d1be22b32ae8e75.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-4327600418929947680</id><published>2009-05-25T18:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T18:25:46.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Judgement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Today, I met this little six year old girl. You know why I like having conversations with kids of this age? They're fun to talk with because most of them bluntly tell the truth to you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Hey, are these shoes dumb or cool?"&lt;br /&gt;Kid-"Dumb."&lt;br /&gt;Me-"Yeah, I thought so."&lt;br /&gt;Kid-"Why are you eating gum?"&lt;br /&gt;Me-"Why are you eating ice cream?"&lt;br /&gt;Kid-"Because I haven't eaten it in a long time. I saw you chewing gum an hour ago."&lt;br /&gt;Me-"Well, gum is okay."&lt;br /&gt;Kid-"You look like my cousin. He has glasses. But he doesn't wear them sometimes."&lt;br /&gt;Me-"I don't wear glasses sometimes either."&lt;br /&gt;Kid-"It's EITHER."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She corrected me on my grammar use. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's fun hanging out with them. I kind of like to talk to people that are older than me or younger than me. (By a lot) Now, don't get me wrong, I talk to people my own age, I like talking to them, also. Ah, that reminds me of the times my friends and I got kicked out of the library after five seconds or started a fake mosh pit. My new friends are cool, but, they're kind of serious. Wait...I'm getting totally off track here, I was supposed to talk about&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"The Day of Judgement".&lt;/span&gt; You see, I'm going to find out whether I'm going to go to CGCF Youth Retreat '09 tomorrow. Now depending on the answer, I may or may not blog about it that day. By the way, I'm really looking forward to the youth retreat, so I'm going to pray about it - once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-4327600418929947680?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/4327600418929947680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/judgement.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4327600418929947680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/4327600418929947680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/judgement.html' title='Judgement'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1188629463206892973.post-6552688185862632501</id><published>2009-05-25T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T12:57:43.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freewebs.com/abdnhockeyclub/happy_face_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 448px; height: 336px;" src="http://www.freewebs.com/abdnhockeyclub/happy_face_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Well, this is my first blog, so don't blame me if I do something stupid. Don't you just put your thoughts out loud? First of all, I'm not really doing anything serious, so I might as well tell you the random things I am thinking right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;center style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;1. When I am going to stop blogging, etc. to do my homework.&lt;br /&gt;2. Youth Retreat. (Obviously.)&lt;br /&gt;3. Ha at the person I'm texting right now.&lt;br /&gt;4. I don't feel as crappy as I did the other day.&lt;br /&gt;5. How the heck I already got a bunch of profile views.&lt;br /&gt;6. How science seems like a bunch of crap when you're a simple seventh grader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Have you ever wondered whether the people of your age think deep thoughts also? Well, they probably do, but it's hard to tell since they're always talking about fictional vampires and people flying around on brooms. Then again, even I usually don't put serious things in mind when I'm speaking to other people, just when I'm talking to myself/God. Well, I would spend a couple more minutes blabbering on about my psychological views, but that  would be plain boring for both me and you. Hey, that rhymed!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1188629463206892973-6552688185862632501?l=yesihaveamind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/feeds/6552688185862632501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6552688185862632501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1188629463206892973/posts/default/6552688185862632501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yesihaveamind.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='&quot;.&quot;'/><author><name>B, Kimberly.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06065534682344962580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akfp_PKmNtg/SjBq-FkfOII/AAAAAAAAACw/CRqO1Hy1jcs/S220/IMG00072+00000.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
