<?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-33167737</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:09:09.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogs</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-8522558300705629793</id><published>2007-04-30T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T08:30:08.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkey's live next door to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Monkey's live next door to me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;there once was a girl who lived in a big house. She was so excited because today she was getting new neighbors! She hoped it was a little kid that was her age that she could play with in her tree house and at the park and everywhere else! It was so boring here in the big house with nothing to do! YES! The neighbors finally arrived! She jumped up and looked out the bay window. The little girl jumped on the couch, wait that wasn't right... MONKEY'S? How awesome!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-8522558300705629793?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8522558300705629793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=8522558300705629793' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/8522558300705629793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/8522558300705629793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2007/04/monkeys-live-next-door-to-me.html' title='Monkey&apos;s live next door to me'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-5138393033340379925</id><published>2007-04-30T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T08:18:28.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Start and Stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Inexperienced. That's what he thought I was. And he said that right before he dumped me! Just because I wouldn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fulfill&lt;/span&gt; his needs as a man. Right like he's a man. More like a childish immature little insecure stupid but muncher. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; off subject. So yes inexperienced can you believe that? What ever I will show him how inexperienced I am. That stupid jerk dumping me, just for a stupid reason. Well I hope he gets gonorrhea from some vapid hoe that can fulfill his 'needs' as a man. I can't believe he thinks that I am inexperienced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-5138393033340379925?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5138393033340379925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=5138393033340379925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/5138393033340379925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/5138393033340379925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2007/04/start-and.html' title='Start and Stop'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-2004697383652493212</id><published>2007-04-05T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T08:21:30.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want</title><content type='html'>I want to get good grades by the end of this six weeks so I can show my parents that I can be responsible and get good grades. I want them to say "I am so proud of you baby girl." and I want them to say that I can finally go take my drivers test and get my license. I want to tell them that I want a brand new Jeep Liberty. then I want them to look at me like I am crazy but then say okay. When my birthday comes I want to walk out in the morning before I go to school and see my perfect beautiful deep sparkly blue 2007 Jeep Liberty sitting there in the drive way. I want to run to it and jump in it and take a big whiff of the new car smell. I want to honk the horn and play with the seats and the mirrors. I want to blast the stereo so loud that it scares all the old people that live next to me. I want my Mom and Dad to hand the keys over to me and say "Happy birthday baby girl." I want to go all the way to my friends house in Kyle and call her and say "Need a ride to school?" and wait for her to come out and see my beautiful baby. I want her to be jealous of it and say "You suck because you got a new car and I didn't." I want to laugh at her and say "well at least we have something that will get us to where ever our little hearts want to go to." When I finally get to school after driving to Mcdonald's or chickfilet and I want to just swerve into the parking and scare my friend. I want the guy that I like to see me and be like "wow she's crazy cool" I want to walk by him and say "Hi nice shirt" and smile at him. I want him to seek me out around school and try to start talking to me. I want him to find me and introduce him self to me and I want to start talking to him every chance I get. I want him to ask me out right before the school year ends and I want to think long and hard about it 'should I or shouldn't I' then at the last minute after keeping him on his toes I want to run into him and say "I would love to go out with you." Then I want him to smile and take my hand and walk me to my beautiful car. Then I want him to give a cute little peck on the cheek since we just started going out. I want us to have our nothing fights over stupid things. I want to slap him across the face because he said something stupid that made me angry. after a couple of classes I want him to come up to me and say that he was terribly wrong for what he said. I want him to kiss me and we get over our stupid little fight. I want all of the girls at our school to be envious because I got the hot boyfriend and the beautiful car! When I come back for my Junior year and he comes back as a Senior I want us to still be going out and be madly in love. When the football season starts I want to make a shirt the has his last name and football number on my shirt. I want to be up on the bleachers yelling his name when he has the ball or when he scores a touch down. I want him to ask me to prom in January. Then I want to go crazy when I go shopping for my dress and all the acessories. I want to be happy because I get to wear my football shirt on every Friday or whatever day we have games. I want to drive to all of the away games and cheer him up if they lost. Then after the football season is finally over. I want my junior year to whiz by so I can go to prom! I want to be picked up in a big nice limo with my best friends with me and my date. I want to have the perfect dress and accessories and shoes. I want my hair and maek-up to be perfect. When prom is over I want me and my date and my friends to go to a hotel and have a party. I want the night to go on for forever because it will be perfect. After prom I want the rest of the year to go by fast and I want the summer to go slow because I want to spend all the spare time I have with my boyfriend since he will be in his freshmen year at college. When my senior year comes around I want to have great grades and the best friends that I have had always had. I don't want any drama to go on between us. I want that year to be filled with lots of parties and cuddles and kisses with my boyfriend. When I finally graduate I want to graduate I want to see my parents in the stands with the biggest smiles on there faces. I want them to tell me how proud they are of me and see the glistening tears in their eyes. After I start college I still want to live with my parents. I want to go to UT so I can be with my boyfriend that I have had since my Junior year in high school. In my sophmore year of college I want him to propose to me for our 4 year anniversary at the first resteraunt that we went to. After I get my degree in engineering I want to get married in a big church with all of my friends and family there. I want my wedding dress to be beautiful white silk with a train behind it! I want to live a long life and not have any children. I don't want my parents to die. I want them to live for forever. I want to go peacfully in my sleep and I want my husband to be with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-2004697383652493212?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2004697383652493212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=2004697383652493212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/2004697383652493212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/2004697383652493212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-want.html' title='I Want'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-530423326090866982</id><published>2007-03-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T08:04:39.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Jadyn sat down in the quiet little room with his guitar sitting on his lap. He couldn’t think of a thing to write about for his love Eden. He couldn’t stop thinking about her ever since he saw her on the stage singing her heart out to the crowd. Jadyn hasn’t been the same since the tour. It all started in 1955 when they both ran into each other in their rush to get to the stage. Eden was funny and smart. While Jadyn knew she was out of his league for one she was married and had a daughter and so was Jadyn and he also had a baby girl and another baby on the way. His wife Vicky knew that he didn’t love her anymore but they just stayed together for their children’s sakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadyn knew that his life was a mess right with Vicky and his children gone and his next tour not going to happen until he cleaned his act up. But he couldn’t. The cocaine and all the other drugs were so addicting. The only way he could is if he knew that Eden would be there to help him every step of the way. She tried once before when she first found out that he was taking drugs. But they just got in an argument and Eden left the tour. It was now 1957 and he was still taking the drugs and he had not heard a single word from Eden since last month. Jadyn had written four songs all about his love for Eden and how she did not return his feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadyn lived in a small apartment in Nashville with some guy trying to hit it big into the music industry. That is the only reason why he let Jadyn stay at his apartment hoping that he could join his tour. Jadyn tried and tried to get a hold of Eden but she lived all the way on the other side of town. So today he decided he would go and see her. He didn’t care even if he had to walk all the way over there, he would see Eden even if she didn’t want to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadyn jumped in his old Desoto and drove for forty-five minutes until he reached the countryside and turned down a dirt road. He finally saw Eden’s house. He slammed on the breaks and walked up to the house where he saw Eden’s little girls playing outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi Jadyn” Eden’s little girl said, “Mama Jadyn is here!” She yelled through the screen door. Eden walked out drying her hands on a dishtowel. She looked at Jadyn. She turned around and looked at her little girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Will you go put on some water for tea girls?” Eden asked. She looked over at Jadyn. “How are you doing? You don’t look good. Are you still taking them pills?” Eden asked putting her hands on her hips. “Come in the house, have some tea and a meal. It looks like you haven’t been eating a lot lately.” Eden turned and walked into the Jadyn staying quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadyn sat down at the table and looked around the house. It had Eden written all over it and he instantly wished that he lived there also. Eden came in with a teacup and a plate of food.&lt;br /&gt;“You know the tour is in three weeks, don’t blow it please!” Eden looked at him. Jadyn looked down ashamed. "I won't I've cleaned my act up." Jadyn strted to eat his meal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-530423326090866982?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/530423326090866982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=530423326090866982' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/530423326090866982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/530423326090866982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2007/03/jadyn-sat-down-in-quiet-little-room.html' title=''/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116853367285240969</id><published>2007-01-11T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T08:41:12.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Together Forever</title><content type='html'>As soon as I open my eyes and see that you and I are here&lt;br /&gt;My heart would want no one else but you and I together&lt;br /&gt;So I want you in my arms forever&lt;br /&gt;Wanting for our lives to begin with foreverI am waiting for you here&lt;br /&gt;Hoping we will be together&lt;br /&gt;With you and I together&lt;br /&gt;We will have forever&lt;br /&gt;With each other right here&lt;br /&gt;So we will be here together forever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116853367285240969?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116853367285240969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116853367285240969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116853367285240969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116853367285240969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2007/01/here-together-forever.html' title='Here Together Forever'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116602588301562566</id><published>2006-12-13T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T07:17:24.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Acrostic</title><content type='html'>Acrostic was defined as a short verse composition, so constructed that the initial letters of the lines, taken consecutively, form words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I - Influencing the minds of&lt;br /&gt;N - New generation of people&lt;br /&gt;D - Destined to lead the world&lt;br /&gt;I - into a new world&lt;br /&gt;A - And&lt;br /&gt;N - Negotiate life’s&lt;br /&gt;E - Eternal puzzle and twists&lt;br /&gt;S - Satisfying the quest for&lt;br /&gt;T - Truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.boloji.com/poetry/learningzone/pkz13.htm"&gt;http://www.boloji.com/poetry/learningzone/pkz13.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I always look forward to&lt;br /&gt;Under the sun all day&lt;br /&gt;Making the most of my summer days&lt;br /&gt;Mornings are the best not to hot not to cold&lt;br /&gt;Every one at the pool&lt;br /&gt;Resting under the sun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116602588301562566?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116602588301562566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116602588301562566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116602588301562566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116602588301562566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/12/acrostic.html' title='Acrostic'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116473368685506865</id><published>2006-11-28T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T07:47:51.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whitney</title><content type='html'>Syllable Pattern:  3, 4, 3, 4, 3, 4, 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cell phone ring&lt;br /&gt;When the ringer&lt;br /&gt;Rings high pitched&lt;br /&gt;I run to it&lt;br /&gt;I answer and talk all day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116473368685506865?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116473368685506865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116473368685506865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116473368685506865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116473368685506865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/11/whitney.html' title='Whitney'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116412925216221082</id><published>2006-11-21T08:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T08:56:43.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tritina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/poetry/sonnets0/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Being modeled from the Sestina, there is no rhyme scheme, instead it comprises of three stanzas using the same three words in a Sestina like pattern, and a final line which uses the three words in the starting sequence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A.. B.. C... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;C.. A.. B... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;B.. C.. A... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A,B,C... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Example&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thepoetsgarret.com/decastich/tritina.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Their battles fought, their lives they lived, and now our fathers sleep,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And though their spirits take to flight, their memories linger here,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With souls now free to live in peace, their battles rage forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;In stories told, in books we read, their past will live forever,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So we can know what went before, 'ere with them we do sleep,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And in this way, share legacy with those who still are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;We help our children learn the past, of things before and here,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And pray that they will not forget, and memories keep forever,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Then pass them down to those who come, before they too will sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And when all things are said and done, we too sleep here forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul  &lt;a href="http://www.myhiddenvoice.com/wesleephereforever.html"&gt;http://www.myhiddenvoice.com/wesleephereforever.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I open my eyes and see that you and I are here&lt;br /&gt;My heart would want no one else but you and I together&lt;br /&gt;So I want you in my arms forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting for our lives to begin with forever&lt;br /&gt;I am waiting for you here&lt;br /&gt;Hoping we will be together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With you and I together&lt;br /&gt;We will have forever&lt;br /&gt;With each other right here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we will be here together forever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116412925216221082?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116412925216221082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116412925216221082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116412925216221082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116412925216221082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/11/tritina.html' title='Tritina'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116343709605092404</id><published>2006-11-13T08:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T08:58:16.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Destined for Eachother</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;1988 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"I am never having another kid!" The woman screamed at the doctor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"Just a little bit more!" The doctor told her. Soon she heard the wailing of a new baby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"You have a new baby boy!" The doctor said smiling at the woman. The woman broke down into tears. "He is so beautiful!" She smiled "I think I will name him Alejandro" she smiled up at the doctor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;1990&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"Isabel come meet your new sister!" The voice boomed around the house. Little isabel came running down the stairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"OOO She's so purrty!" Isabel poked at her "What's her name, Daddy?" Her Dad looked down at her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"Her name is Lily" Her Dad smiled at her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;16 years later...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;Lily walked down the hall smiling as she waved to people she saw. She walked into her English class. Someone called out her name and she turned her head to look at who was calling her. She was not looking where she was going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"OUCH!" Lily said she looked up into the prettiest blue eyes she had ever seen. "I am so sorry" She looked down and saw that all his papers were on the floor. She bent down to help him pick up his things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"My name is Lily, what's your's?" Lily looked at him. He looked up at her "My name is Alejandro" Lily looked up. He looks so familiar she thought. "Hey is your mom Charlie Rodriguez?" Lily asked him. Alejandro looked up "Yea she is, how do you know her?" Alejandro looked confused. "My mom knows her really well" Lily looked up at Alejandro. "Do you want to sit by me?" Lily looked hopeful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;5 years later&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"Do you remember how we met Alejandro?" Lily looked over at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"Yes I do, I remember you bumping into me and knocking all my things on the floor" Alejandro smiled at her. Lily looked at him and smiled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"I love you" Lily said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"&gt;"I love you too" Alejandro said and smiled at her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116343709605092404?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116343709605092404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116343709605092404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116343709605092404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116343709605092404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/11/destined-for-eachother.html' title='Destined for Eachother'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116179045652657309</id><published>2006-10-25T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T08:34:18.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Stupid Conscience (revised)</title><content type='html'>If only I could just go up to him and tell him how I feel. But no, my stupid conscience always gets in the way. Like in the back of my mind I can always hear 'what if he thinks this about me if I just go up to him and tell him. But everyday I will get this little burst of energy and I tell myself I can do this!! But then at the last minute I back out. Stupid conscience... If only my conscience would quit whispering negative things in my ear about what he is thinking. I don't know what he is thinking about me, I am not a mind reader, and it doesn't hurt to try. I mean everybody gets rejected right? Well today I decided I am just going to ignore my conscience and go for it. I am not going to think one negative thing about what he is thinking about me. Well sometimes things don't go as planned... I saw him walking with his friends to lunch. When I was walking up to him I yelled out his name "George!" he turned around and smiled at me, that smile that made my knees week everytime I saw him "Hey, how are you?" I smiled and told him I was doing okay. We talked for a little bit when I just blurted out "I like you alot George and I was hoping that maybe you like me to?" It was then that I decided that it was not a good thing that I said that. I mean after all we were in the hallway with all the students walking around us trying to get to class. After I opened my big mouth everyone stopped and turned. It was so quite you could hear a pen drop. Everybody's mouth was open like a fish out of water. It was like it was odd for me to like this guy. People just turned back and started to snicker and point at me... Well there is the first sign that something is not good! He had this look on his face. I couldn't tell if it was sorrow or something else. When he spoke was when the bomb dropped "I like you alot too." I smiled at him. Until he opened his mouth again "But I have a girlfriend." My smile fell. Well I thought to myself if he likes me alot then why is he with another girl?! I was so confused. Then everybody in the hall turned and looked at me like they new what my issue was. Well they didn't! So why wouldn't they stop staring at me? It was starting to make me nervous. I saw George from the corner of my eye walking out to his car, WITH his girlfriend! Oh how I hate her! I thought my life would be over right after that moment. but no I saw my friends coming over with their hands over their mouths, trying to hold in their laughs. My friend patted me on my back and said "There are plenty of other guys out there for you!" she turned towards me and said "But seeing you get rejected was hilarious!" My mouth dropped after I heard her say that. " I turned towards her "Thanks alot to you, my life is over! Maybe if you told me that he had a girlfriend then I wouldn't be having this issue! BUT Noo you had to get your kicks and giggles out of me telling him that I like him when he had a girlfriend that I despise now! You could have told! I think I am going to have to transfer schools! Everyone heard me! It's going to be the laugh of the month! Maybe even the year! I am so hating you right now!" I told her then I stalked off to go find my other friends. Today I guess is just not my day! I failed the History test, got rejected in front of half of the school, and now I have to go home to my parents and explain to them why I failed. Today is just NOT my day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116179045652657309?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116179045652657309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116179045652657309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116179045652657309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116179045652657309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-stupid-conscience-revised_25.html' title='My Stupid Conscience (revised)'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-116014763721013708</id><published>2006-10-06T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T08:13:57.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Stupid Conscience</title><content type='html'>If only I could just go up to him and tell him how I feel. But no, my stupid conscience always gets in the way. Like in the back of mind I can always hear 'what if he thinks this about me if I just go up to him and tell him. But everyday I will get this little burst of energy and I tell myself I can do this!! But then at the last minute I back out. Stupid conscience... If only my conscience would quit whispering negative things in my ear about what he is thinking. I don't know what he is thinking about me, I am not a mind reader, and it doesn't hurt to try. I mean everybody gets rejected right? Well today I decided I am just going to ignore my conscience and go for it. I am not going to think one negative thing about what he is thinking about me. Well sometimes things don't go as planned...&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I will see him in the hall and I will think okay this is your day go talk to him. and as soon as I get close enough to him that little voice in the back of my head tells me 'turn around, you can't do this'. Well today I decided like the smart person I am to go up to him and tell him what I thought about him. Right after third period I am going to tell him, so if he rejects me I can run somewhere since I have lunch. So that's when I was going to do it right after 3rd period.&lt;br /&gt;When me and my friends saw him walking they told me to go up to him and just tell him. So I listened to them and did just what they told me to, no conscience holding me back, I put it on hold for the day. I saw him walking with his friends to lunch. When I was walking up to him I yelled out his name "Bob!" he turned around and smiled at me "Hey Mary Joe, how are you?" I smiled and told him I am doing okay. We talked for a little bit when I just blurted out "I like you alot Bob and I was hoping that maybe you like me to?" It was then that I decided that it was not a good thing that I said that. He had this look on his face. I couldn't tell if it was sorrow or something else. When he spoke was when the bomb dropped "I like you alot too Mary Joe." I smiled at him. Until he opened his mouth again "But I have a girlfriend." My smile fell. He walked away from his locker when all I could do was stare at him and look like a fish out of water. So today I got rejected, I failed my history test and now I have to go home and explain why I falied the history test to my parents. Today is just NOT my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-116014763721013708?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/116014763721013708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=116014763721013708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116014763721013708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/116014763721013708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-stupid-conscience.html' title='My Stupid Conscience'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-115937160571951354</id><published>2006-09-27T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T08:39:08.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing Electrons</title><content type='html'>The title of the piece I read is Sharing Electrons. In the beggining it is about a girl that gets kidnapped. Then it goes off to another character and it goes into her problems about her mother having a brain tumor and how she turns to the latest fashion and drugs to deal with her problems. In the end they find the missing girls body and Beth the main character ends up being with someone that likes her alot and her mother is going into surgery a couple of weeks. The plot is something out of the ordinary. " She covered up her insecurities with gaudy hand bags and tight blue jeans. She pretended to be conceited." Beth is not all that confident so she buys the latest fashion and wears what everybody else is to act like she is confidnet when she really isn't confident at all. She deals with her problems by getting high or reading the latest fashion magazines so she doesn't have to deal with her problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-115937160571951354?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/115937160571951354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=115937160571951354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115937160571951354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115937160571951354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/09/sharing-electrons.html' title='Sharing Electrons'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-115937090580476055</id><published>2006-09-27T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T08:39:22.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote</title><content type='html'>The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death. -Thomas Paine (1737 - 1809)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with this because really the more hard the conflict or the problem and you get through it, it makes you feel alot better because you got through a really hard thing! And it is really nice to see some one that is in the same problem with you smiling. It makes things seem like nothing is happening, i tmakes you forget things for a little while until reality slips back in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-115937090580476055?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/115937090580476055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=115937090580476055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115937090580476055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115937090580476055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/09/quote.html' title='Quote'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-115755793535094557</id><published>2006-09-06T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T08:07:15.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Memories</title><content type='html'>I can remember that day like it was just yesterday. Running into my grandma's house for the first time in like a year. I could smell her famous chicken noodle casserole cooking in the oven when I saw my grandpa Big Daddy walking out of the kitchen to greet us with my grandma right behind him. After all the hugs and kisses, I could remember my Big Daddy telling me and my sister to meet us out at his truck in 5 minutes to go on our secret Culver Ice Cream trip. Every year that my family came down to Austin the first thing we did after getting in the house was sneak off to Culver's for some ice cream. Sometimes we were not all that succesful. We would come home about 30 minutes before dinner and my grandma would catch us with chocolate or vanilla ice cream all over our faces. That was the last trip to Culver's I ever took with Big Daddy and my sister. I knew that he had Diabetes and went to dialysis, but I did not know how bad it was. Over the next year when we went to visit he was getting worse and worse. Over the summer he had to get put in the hospital because his kidneys were not working all that well. He was waiting for a kidney, he didn't get his miracle. the summer that he was put in the hospital we went to visit him every other day so he wouldn't be alone in the cold, sterile smelling hospital room. Sometimes he couldn't even recognize the people he was talking to. As the days went on he was getting weaker and frailer by the minute. When we went to visit him in the hospital he would look so small in that hospital bed. We knew his chances were small in getting a kidney. So all we could really do was just be with him as much as we could before that day came. Eventually we had to go back home to get ready for school and work. We called every week to talk to my grandma about how he was doing. There was no change, and little by little our hopes were getting torn apart. Time had passed with no change. Thanksgiving was around the corner. It was about 2 weeks before we planned to go to Austin when we got the call. All I can remeber is my mom talking to the doctor on the phone with tears running down her face was when I knew that it had happened. My world crashed down around me. I was in so much pain I couldn't even cry. I tried to be strong for my mom and sister. That day me and my sister had to go to school to get all of our assignments for the next two weeks. It was the hardest thing that I had to do in my life so far. Everyone knew that I had lost my grandpa and they all wanted to be around me. I didn't want to be around anyone. I just wanted to be in Austin with the rest of my family. My mom came and picked me and my sister up. We went to the airport waiting for our plane to start boarding. My mom and sister were quiet. My mom was sitting there with her head in her hands trying not to cry. My sister was sitting there staring off into space with red puffy eyes. I wanted to do something to make their pain go away, but I was in pain too. When we got to my grandma's house it was covered with baskets and notes every where. We ran into my grandma's arms. For some reason her hug didn't feel so warm and comforting as it always did. the funeral was the toughest part. The church was filled with all of his golf friends, his contracters and everyone he knew. Going home that night was all right my aunts and my mom and grandma were all sitting around in the living room with chinese food and the fire going with some movie going on in the background. We were all laughing because we were sharing stories of my grandpa's silly antics. It made us feel a little better. But there was still that pain that will never go away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-115755793535094557?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/115755793535094557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=115755793535094557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115755793535094557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115755793535094557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/09/old-memories.html' title='Old Memories'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-115695123966075031</id><published>2006-08-30T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T08:39:57.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>I can remember my 12th birthday just like it was yesterday. I remember my mom talking to some one on the phone outside my bedroom door. I could hear her whispering "I think she is up!" while walking into my room. The bathroom light was way to bright so I flipped over onto my side and closed my eyes again trying to get more sleep. I felt her yank off the blankets that were over my head because I suddenly felt really cold. My mom kept on shaking me until I was up and sitting in my bed. she handed me the phone and walked out of my room. I knew it was my dad that was on the phone because he was in Iceland for my birthday and it was his lunch break over there. He started to sing happy birthday to me very very badly. We talked for about fifteen minutes about what I was going to do for my birthday. I told him I didn't know yet. Then he had to go to get back to work. I got out of bed and put my bare feet on the tiles in my room. they were freezing! So I ran to my bathroom and turned on my shower and made it extra hot since I was so cold. I got out of the shower and put on my brand new birthday outfit. I scrunched my hair making it curly because I didn't want to have to deal with it. I smelled my birth day breakfast. It made my stomach growl. I ran out to the kitchen and hopped up onto the barstool right as my mom was putting the plate down in front of me. I ate my breakfast in record time because my friends were coming over to walk me to the bus stop. I could hear them knocking at the door right as I was finishing my milk. I hopped off the barstool and ran ovr to my mom gave her a kiss on the cheek told her I loved her and I would see her later. I opened the door and all my friends started singing happy birthday. I walked out of the house with a big smile on my face. I knew that my birthday was going to be the best day ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-115695123966075031?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/115695123966075031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=115695123966075031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115695123966075031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115695123966075031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/08/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33167737.post-115626319828389533</id><published>2006-08-22T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T09:13:18.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Drama. Drama is every where. Drama gets tiring. I am tired of hearding about every body's drama. Especially when it is stupid. It could be the littlest thing that happened and some one blows it up to be this huge thing. And it gets tiring. Especially when you hear over and over 'So and so is going out can you believe that?' or  'they broke up I thought they were gonna be together forever!' It's gets tiring and it is some times pointless. I don't think that the people who they are talking about wants their business to be all over the school or work. But sometimes you can't help but getting caught up in it. I don't want to be in anyone's drama but mine, because sometimes it just gets way out of hand and you could be in the middle of it! Which really sucks. Especially when it is between your best friends. and you have no idea what to  do or who to go with! And then when you don't choose to be on anyone's side they get mad at you for not siding with them then they get mad at you and a whole new thing happens between all of the friends! I really don't like drama!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33167737-115626319828389533?l=dramastuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/feeds/115626319828389533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33167737&amp;postID=115626319828389533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115626319828389533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33167737/posts/default/115626319828389533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dramastuff.blogspot.com/2006/08/drama.html' title=''/><author><name>kirstie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04112822384391222847</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
