<?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-6953594270400806214</id><updated>2011-12-28T19:56:06.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>still confused</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-8348490743942566033</id><published>2011-03-29T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T19:56:06.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Math</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I Wake Up And Hope Reality's A Dream&lt;br /&gt;My World Is Full Of Anger Plus Hostility Which Seems To Equal Mean&lt;br /&gt;I Try To Move On But Never Forget&lt;br /&gt;So Instead Of Relief All I Feel Is Regret&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Carry The Grief&lt;br /&gt;I Embrace The Pain&lt;br /&gt;In A Bubble Full Of Understanding&lt;br /&gt;All I Feel Is Blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Tell Me You're Sorry&lt;br /&gt;You Tell Me You Care&lt;br /&gt;But Then You Do It Again&lt;br /&gt;And Some How I'm Still Here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I Go To Bed And Wonder What I Did&lt;br /&gt;I Tried To Be My Best For You&lt;br /&gt;I've Always Been Your Friend&lt;br /&gt;But All I Get From You Is Confusion Plus Hurt&lt;br /&gt;Which Seems To Equal Me Just Feeling Like Dirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Carry The Grief&lt;br /&gt;I Embrace The Pain&lt;br /&gt;In A Bubble Full Of Understanding&lt;br /&gt;All I Feel Is Blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Tell Me You're Sorry&lt;br /&gt;You Tell Me You Care&lt;br /&gt;But Then You Do It Again&lt;br /&gt;And Some How I'm Still Here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I Sit Down And I Ponder What Happened.&lt;br /&gt;I Think Of How You Treat Me And How You Make Me Feel&lt;br /&gt;And Then I Realize Its All Just Simple Math&lt;br /&gt;My Life Minus You Equals A Life I Can Do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Carried The Grief&lt;br /&gt;I Embraced The Pain&lt;br /&gt;In A Bubble Full Of Understanding&lt;br /&gt;All I Felt Was Blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Told Me You're Sorry&lt;br /&gt;You Told Me You Cared&lt;br /&gt;But Then You Did It Again&lt;br /&gt;And Now I'm Not There&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-8348490743942566033?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/8348490743942566033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=8348490743942566033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/8348490743942566033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/8348490743942566033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2011/03/awake.html' title='Simple Math'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-4054589368868492396</id><published>2010-10-03T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T11:03:40.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Isn't A Choice!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I Don't Understand What Makes A Person So Sure That It Is Nothing More Than An Indisputable Choice To Like Whichever Sex They Want. Almost As If It's The Same Thing As Choosing Green Over Red Grapes, Strawberry Over Chocolate Milk, Mystery Over Romance Novels. However, By Following That Logic In Suggesting That Being Straight Is A Choice As Well Comes Off As Completely Ridiculous. And The Simple Explanation For That Is Because It Is Completely Ridiculous. Gay People Don't Choose To Be Gay Anymore Than Straight People Choose To Be Straight Or White People Choose To Be White. Depending On Their Upbringing Most Even Try Their Best To Be Straight And When That Doesn't Work Some Choose To Live Alone Forever Either Because They Are Embarrassed Or Because Their "Friends" And "Family" Would Cut Them Out Of Their Lives As Though They Were Strangers. Now I Ask You Skeptical Straight People Who Would Want To Choose That? Who Makes Life Altering Decisions Because They Want The People They've Known And Loved All Of Their Lives To Drop Them Forever Only To Live In This World Alone And Left Behind?&lt;br /&gt;Why Is It Understood That Some People Love Bananas And Hate Oranges While Others Love Oranges And Hate Bananas? How Is It That People Can Accept The Possibility That You Can Have A true Preference When It Comes To Something As Meaningless As Fruit But Can't Wrap Their Head Around The Idea That Everyone Has Preference Over Who They're Attracted To?&lt;br /&gt;I Do Agree With Anyone Who Says Embracing The Lifestyle Is A Choice.That Is True. Regardless Of How Much You Prefer Red Grapes It's Your Choice To Eat Them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-4054589368868492396?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/4054589368868492396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=4054589368868492396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4054589368868492396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4054589368868492396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2010/10/it-isnt-choice.html' title='It Isn&apos;t A Choice!!!!!'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-4207083459549271238</id><published>2010-09-12T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:54:40.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You (Even If You Won't Adopt Me)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In A Life Full Of Disappointing People You Stayed With Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Listening To My Words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Keeping My Secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trusting Me With Yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thank You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Saw Me When I Was A Ghoat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Heard My Silent Cries Through Fake Smiles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Know My Demons But Still You're Here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Supporting Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pushing Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thank You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You See More In Me Than I Could Ever Dream To Be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Never Lie To Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Believe You When You Say I'm Beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Give Me Hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Make Me Smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thank You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="YontooInstallID"&gt;F53498D4-F614-225B-D00E-6D75BB382913&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="YontooClientVersion"&gt;1.03.01&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-4207083459549271238?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/4207083459549271238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=4207083459549271238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4207083459549271238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4207083459549271238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2010/09/thank-you-even-if-you-wont-adopt-me.html' title='Thank You (Even If You Won&apos;t Adopt Me)'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-2526887990549193620</id><published>2010-09-12T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:52:35.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Red Balloon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;There's A Snake Mistaken For A Man&lt;br /&gt;He Spends His Days In Parks With Children&lt;br /&gt;And His Nights With His Thoughts&lt;br /&gt;He Has A Room For His Food&lt;br /&gt;A Room For His Books&lt;br /&gt;And A Room For His Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;Fly High In The Sky&lt;br /&gt;And Hope The Sky Never Ends&lt;br /&gt;Don't Fall Down&lt;br /&gt;To That Ground&lt;br /&gt;Cause That's Where Evil Has Gone To Live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There Was A Boy In This World&lt;br /&gt;Perfect&lt;br /&gt;He Spent His Days In The Park&lt;br /&gt;His Life In A Place People Told Him Was Safe&lt;br /&gt;A Life That Would End In Shame&lt;br /&gt;All Thanks To A Snake Armed With A Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;Fly High In The Sky&lt;br /&gt;And Hope The Sky Never Ends&lt;br /&gt;Don't Fall Down&lt;br /&gt;To That Ground&lt;br /&gt;Cause That's Where Evil Has Gone To Live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's A Snake Mistaken For A Man&lt;br /&gt;He Once Was A Boy That Lived In A World Filled With Joy&lt;br /&gt;But Like A Bubble That Popped His Perfect World Stopped&lt;br /&gt;Now He's Just A Man With A Room&lt;br /&gt;Empty Except For A Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Red Balloon&lt;br /&gt;Fly High In The Sky&lt;br /&gt;And Hope The Sky Never Ends&lt;br /&gt;Don't Fall Down&lt;br /&gt;To That Ground&lt;br /&gt;Cause That's Where Evil Has Gone To Live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="YontooInstallID"&gt;F53498D4-F614-225B-D00E-6D75BB382913&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="YontooClientVersion"&gt;1.03.01&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-2526887990549193620?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/2526887990549193620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=2526887990549193620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/2526887990549193620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/2526887990549193620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2010/09/little-red-balloon.html' title='Little Red Balloon'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-4043320293604348687</id><published>2008-04-23T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T07:02:09.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough Is Enough!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Madonna, Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears. Okay yes all of these people were at the top of the world at one point in time and they really do deserve props for what they have done for our pop culture. But now they need to know that it is time to just stop and pass the torch to someone else who will make their own mark in our changing world and to respect what they accomplished instead of destroying it by trying to out do it with something that they should've just left alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean look at Madonna. She is going to be 50 this year. Yet she is still dancing on cars and making out with girls on MTV award shows. Seriously Madonna has had more then her moments of fame. More like her decades. It's time to just leave the world in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backstreet Boys (BSB). Now I am going to be honest and admit that I had the hugest crush on the backstreet boys but then I grew up and shockingly enough so did they. Yet somehow they're still trying to be the boys they once were. Someone needs to break the news that the pop world has changed and that unless they can get Timbaland into doing a song with them that it's just time to let it go. And judging by the fact that Timbaland has done at least eight songs with Justin Timberlake already the odds of Timbaland doing something for the backstreet boys is about as possible as Paris Hilton swearing off clubs and joining a covent. Yeah the backstreet boys may have won the basketball game, but Justin Timberlake won the career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Britney Spears did this all to herself. She could've been on the top again. Blackout was her opportunity to show the world she deserved to be back on our radar. She destroyed that opportunity with her pathetic live pity performance and that horrible excuse for a music video. She should just realize that there is almost nothing she can do to save her career now. Especially since she turned down Timbaland. Which in my opinion is career suicide. She's just over now. I don't care how many kids she's willing to adopt from foreign countries or how many camps for youthful talent she starts. All people are going to remember about her is the fact that once she had the same hair cut as vin Deasel and that her parenting skills may have been questioned just as much and maybe even more than the pale white man who held his baby out of a balcony. There is just no bouncing back from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-4043320293604348687?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/4043320293604348687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=4043320293604348687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4043320293604348687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/4043320293604348687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2008/04/enough-is-enough.html' title='Enough Is Enough!'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-5886511009751010371</id><published>2008-03-20T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T22:28:10.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Might Be Lazy If....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I was bored and decided to make this list. I hope it's funny.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You Might Be Lazy If....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;1 ) You think that Wal Mart should have a drive thru.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;2 ) You consider the length from the couch to the kitchen to be worthy exercise for the day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;3 ) You wash your dishes while washing yourself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;4 ) Instead of choosing an outfit for the day you choose an outfit for the week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;5 ) The only time you do anything is when it's a commercial on TV&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;6 ) The only reason you had kids was so you would never have to do your own dishes ever again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;7 ) You decide the trip downstairs to the bathroom can wait for another hour. (Anna's joke)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;8 ) Instead of getting a real pet you just never through away your potatoes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: arial;"&gt;9 ) The only time you eat is when someone else is getting up for food. (Anna's dad's joke)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;10) The only reason you can quote every line from Shrek is because your to lazy to put a different movie in your DVD player.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-5886511009751010371?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/5886511009751010371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=5886511009751010371' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/5886511009751010371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/5886511009751010371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-might-be-lazy-if.html' title='You Might Be Lazy If....'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-2253225527634819411</id><published>2008-02-26T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T09:11:40.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clear Enough?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Color Blind - affected with partial or total inability to distinguish one or more chromatic colors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I am color blind. I see ONLY black, white, and a few shades of gray. When ever I look at other colors I try to compare it with black or white so I can try and guess what the color is. I once was able to see red and yellow but they left me over time. I hate to tell people that I'm color blind. Partly because it's a little embarrassing for me, but mostly because of the process that follows. It always happens the same way and in the same order. It makes me question the intelligence in others sometimes. Here's how it goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Stage One - I can't avoid it anymore and when I'm with a friend I tell the person that I am color blind. The person asks me if I'm lieing. I tell them that I am telling the truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Stage Two - The person decides to test me in case it's a trick. It's a dumb test but how else are they going to believe me? They point to an object and ask me what color it is. I always reply "I don't know" and then I guess a random color. Some how I seem to guess the correct color. It happens almost everytime and I don't understand how.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Stage Three - This is where my friend jumps in and assures the person that I am color blind. Then the person tries again this time with an article of clothing that I'm wearing. Obviously I'll get that right because I already asked someone else what color it is in advance. I explain this to the person. Then they ask what color are the clothes that they're wearing. I tell them "I don't know". Then I repeat the colors I can see over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stage Four - I hate this stage the most. Once I repeat the colors I can see one more time they give me one last test before the process is complete. This last test is what makes me question the intelligence of others. They tell me to guess what color their clothes are.. Even today I have no idea why that makes any difference in their decision of whether or not I am telling the truth but everyone always tells me to guess. So I humor them and guess. Sometimes I get it right and they look at me like I'm a dog that just did a cool trick. Or when I get it wrong they look at me like they finally get that I'm not lieing. Either way the person has now accepted the fact that I am telling the truth.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Hereby completing the process.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I find this process both stupid and pointless. I grow tired of jumping through the same hoops everytime I tell someone that I'm a little different. Now that I think about it, maybe I'm not really embaressed about my disability. Maybe it's the feeling that after I tell someone about it, for the next couple of minutes I become nothing more then their new science expirement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-2253225527634819411?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/2253225527634819411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=2253225527634819411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/2253225527634819411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/2253225527634819411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2008/02/clear-enough.html' title='Clear Enough?'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-5517421475810912677</id><published>2008-02-20T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T09:09:23.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince Charming Is Pathetic!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I have two friends that are smart, funny, beautiful women who I must say have had some of the worst luck when it comes to boyfriends. As they continued to list the countless stories of past boyfriends I started to wonder how they didn't have their Prince Charmings already. You know that myth that girls foolishly hope for? He's that guy that never says anything wrong, always loves you, and not that it should matter but he is unbelievably hot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;This made me think of the original Prince Charming from Disney's Cinderella. After thinking about it for a while I realized that Prince Charming isn't so great. Sure he saves Cinderella from her evil stepmother and stepsisters, and okay yeah he did only flirt with her at the ball. But I mean think about it. He sees a girl and she's beautiful and it's love at first sight. He dances with, talks to, and looks at only her the whole night. Yet he never thinks to ask her what her name is. Then when she leaves in a hurry and forgets her very rare glass slipper at the castle he keeps it. Then he comes up with a plan that only a men would find clever. He decides to have every woman in the entire kingdom try on this glass slipper and whoever it fits first is the woman he's supposed to be with. Then even though he is most likely the only person who saw her face and knows her voice -and oh yeah he's "in love" with her- he sends someone else to do it for him. Because he's just too busy doing nothing to go and find his true love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Now I want to be clear on one thing I am now and forever will be a hopeless romantic. I'm all for that love at first sight, soul mates, together forever stuff. I just don't understand why we decided what Prince Charming did was anywhere near perfect or worth all the credit we give him. I think Prince Charming is pathetic and that women need to raise the bar just a little bit higher. I mean look at sleeping beauty's man Prince Philip. He faught an evil dragon for her. Prince Eric faught a huge octopus for Ariel and this was after he found out he was in love with a fish. Then there is the beast, -who didn't even get a real name- he risked his own life and saved Belle from scary wolves before he even really liked her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Honestly I just wanted to say that I don't need a man that can fight evil dragons, huge octopuses, or scary wolves. I just want a man that would care enough to find me on his own instead of just sending someone to take care of it for him. Until then I think I'll find someone else other then so-called Prince Charming to wait for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-5517421475810912677?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/5517421475810912677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=5517421475810912677' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/5517421475810912677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/5517421475810912677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2008/02/prince-charming-is-punk.html' title='Prince Charming Is Pathetic!!!'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953594270400806214.post-6864213386088256254</id><published>2008-02-18T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T09:14:33.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does It Really Mean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I was reading a book and during a fight one character called the other a cakesniffer. This made me wonder, what is a cakesniffer? I mean seriously, what is it and how is it an insult let alone a good one?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I tried to think of possible definitions of this so-called insult. I came up with only a few believable ideas. Maybe a cakesniffer is what they call an apprentice to a baker, or it could be a name for a person who prefers pie to call someone who prefers cake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Both of these guesses are highly possible but just didn't seem like they captured what the insult was trying to deliver. Then it hit me. Suddenly I felt as though I knew exactly what cakesniffer meant. Now even though I do not truly know its meaning I feel this is a valid attempt at its definition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I think that cakesniffer is a way of sugar coding an insult towards anorexics. I mean think about it. If all a cakesniffer does is sniff the cake and not eat it then wouldn't that be an anorexic? This brings up another question. If a cakesniffer really is an insult towards anorexics then wouldn't cake eater be an insult towards bulimic or even obese people or is it simply a name for people who enjoy eating cake?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Eventually I decided that if an insult takes this much thought to undertand then it really isn't a good one. So please just stick to the originals like moron, idiot, or stupid. There's a reason that they're still around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6953594270400806214-6864213386088256254?l=stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/feeds/6864213386088256254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6953594270400806214&amp;postID=6864213386088256254' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/6864213386088256254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6953594270400806214/posts/default/6864213386088256254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillconfused-kayla.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-does-it-really-mean.html' title='What Does It Really Mean?'/><author><name>kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02044381173639485246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YsBWWW_Rnxo/SajmK-4jNeI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eUVWdsi9As8/S220/tb_fiji_sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
