<?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-10800173</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:14:11.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10800173.post-110952859445865767</id><published>2005-02-27T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-27T10:23:14.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Move Over Spielberg!</title><content type='html'>My father's birthday was being celebrated last night (Saturday) and the last thing I wanted to do was hang around a bunch of his adult friends. So my parents let me sleepover at Karoline's house instead of enduring horrible torture at the party.&lt;br /&gt;So they dropped me off at her house at 7:00 a.m. Saturday and I brought along a huge bag with my blanket, pillow, brush, mp3 and etc. It's really going to take to long to explain &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt; that happened so let me cut it short.&lt;br /&gt;Karoline had a video camera and we were fooling around with it and then started to shoot a scene where we put on 'Midnight Show' by The Killers and I was in control of the camera as Karoline was pretending to sleep while I sneaked up to her and commited murder. It was all just playing of course, no real murder was commited O_o&lt;br /&gt;Then we decided we would write a script and started to brainstorm all sorts of ideas. We filmed a few more scenes and I daydreamed about all the effects I would put into the movie with my Windows Movie Maker back at home. I used it before to make music videos of all sort and already had alot of practice.&lt;br /&gt;First Karoline just wanted it to be a small production but the next morning she wanted to get more people in on it, which was my first idea. I'll might start on the script today, as soon as I finish my homework, which I put off to the last day of the weekend, as usual. It's a horrible habit but I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;Today (Sunday) I spent most of the morning catching up to what I missed on the unofficial Killers forum and checked the tour dates to see if my boys are coming to town. No.. still no where near me. At the moment it's about 9:00 p.m. in Koln, Germany, where they are, so they should be playing a show at the moment. I wish them all the best and hope to see some pictures of the performance on the unofficial soon ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110952859445865767?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110952859445865767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110952859445865767' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110952859445865767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110952859445865767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/move-over-spielberg.html' title='Move Over Spielberg!'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10800173.post-110944397008226058</id><published>2005-02-26T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T10:56:39.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now they all know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So my obsession with The Killers is completely noticed by everybody. Is it because their name has been in my MSN name for three months? (With stars on each side) Or maybe it's because I start squealing or gasping whenever somebody says, "Brightside, Killers, Flowers" and etc?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My parents were the first to know and they've had to be there with me for the long discussions of how The Killers are doing on the charts, which awards they've won and the next time 'Mr. Brightside' will make a graceful appearance on the telly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;They've already groaned and moaned about hearing their songs over and over but it really hurt when I was watching the MuchMusic countdown and The Killers were number one and I was all giddy and I could hear them talking bitterly in the background about how much they can't stand this song because it's been drilled into their heads a million times. (Those weren't their exact words, but that's pretty much what happened).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I didn't mean to annoy them but I can't help it they're always around when a Killers moment is it all it's glory. My mother has figured out that I get happy when The Killers are 'On Top' and start to frown when I know 'Everything will be alright'. No puns intended ;) She thinks it's quite dumb and I think it's dumb she wants to listen to music with no words, a.k.a smooth jazz O_o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I asked her, "Isn't it boring?" and she assures me, "It's relaxing." I hope when I get older I won't listen to &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; type of music. If and when I have kids they probably won't like The Killers as much as I do... example: I don't like The Beatles as much as my father does. They'll probably get torn between listening to 'cool' music and listening to music that makes them happy or suits them better. But I feel old just thinking about my future so I'm stopping this post now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110944397008226058?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110944397008226058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110944397008226058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110944397008226058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110944397008226058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/now-they-all-know.html' title='Now they all know'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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-10800173.post-110859305314424882</id><published>2005-02-16T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T14:57:32.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Somebody Told Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today was the Valentine's Day dance. I know the lovey-dovey day has passed but on Monday only half of the school showed up because the buses were cancelled and on Tuesday my class had a huge science test during the last periods of the day when our dance was planned. So it was today, and I wasn't excatly looking forward to it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Firstly, we were fifteen minutes late to the dance because our history teacher kept as locked in a classroom to explain a new assignment. &lt;em&gt;Boring&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eventually we got to the dance and I surprised my friends by coming out a secret enterance ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My friend Burcu went straight to the two Djs like a solider and requested 'Mr. Brightside' by The Killers. Instead they played 'Somebody Told Me' and when we heard it we screamed our little hearts out. Other screaming was heard as well O.o The 'older' people as I refer to them, were all jumping around and my heart sank. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I didn't know they all knew The Killers...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I guess I didn't want them to be as insane as I was. I'm so selfish, no lie. So I sang along and leaned against the stage, right next to a huge stereo and waited for Burcu to finish her request 'Mr. Brightside' again. Fast forward to Mario's 'Let Me Love You' when everybody was hooking up. Okay not everybody, most people moved far away. I saw this guy, Jesse approaching me, with his 'clique' behind him and I dashed far away. Meanwhile Christin was getting pushed by Bernice and Janice to dance with Kalvin, and they like each other but are way to shy. These were the couples that were spotted:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Samantha &amp; Zaffer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Liora &amp;amp; Zaffer &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(^Ew, Zaffer is the most annoying person in the world and has hair like a girl^)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Samantha &amp; Michael&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kayla &amp;amp; Michael&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Meagan &amp; Scott&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Samantha &amp;amp; Ian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(^At this point I should mention Samantha is a slut^)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And some other people I can't remember =P They didn't play 'Mr. Brightside'. But at the end when we were cleaning up the Djs were playing some upbeat music, that had a dance that went along with it where you line up in two vertical lines with your partner on the other side and you do some... moves? And then run to the other line and etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Karoline was my partner and we joined in the dance and while I was doing a &lt;em&gt;move&lt;/em&gt; that involved, facing in another direction I noticed Andrei watching the dance. I didn't think he would come to the dance, he never does this sort of things. I think he likes someone *COUGHmeaganCOUGH*.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110859305314424882?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110859305314424882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110859305314424882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110859305314424882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110859305314424882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/well-somebody-told-me.html' title='Well Somebody Told Me...'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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-10800173.post-110850587041342824</id><published>2005-02-15T17:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T14:26:33.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Okay... this is just terrible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Andrei sent me an instant message on MSN and it went on with a long discussion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It seems that some of his friends were teasing him about going out with my ex-best friend Samantha last year. He explained they never really went out, which is true. Then they tell him to prove it so they follow him after school and he approaches Samantha and asks if they ever went out. She says no (even though she's a flat-out liar) but then adds that one time when I went to a movie with her and Kayla (also ex-best friend) and they invitied Andrei he sat next to me and so she says we went out together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;UGH!!!! How embarrassing!! I stared in shock at what Andrei told me and banged my head on my desk. He pleaded that I didn't tell her anything. He always says that to me. He never wants or wanted her to know the things he tells &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;He does promise that he will make her life miserable because I pointed out that she does that to me. At least he cares about my well being.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm not so sure I wanted him to tell me that story though. It's one last thing I have to worry about. Stupid Samantha. I wish she would burn in hell. Same with Lindsey Lohan who is suffocating my T.V. I have a long history with Samantha, it would take up too much room on this blog if I explained it in great detail so I'll do this quickly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best friends. Lied. Got a big ego. Lied. Lied. Broke up. Sad. Friends again. Meet Kayla. Best friends for life. Lied to everyone. Pissed me off. Lied. Lied. Broke up. Begged for friendship. No. Lied. The End.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Even worse, Samantha has 'Mr. Brightside' on her Mp3. F*** her. I want her out of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110850587041342824?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110850587041342824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110850587041342824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110850587041342824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110850587041342824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/some-afternoon.html' title='Some Afternoon'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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-10800173.post-110842101835677843</id><published>2005-02-14T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T14:47:29.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Night and Worst Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I wasted four hours of my life watching the Grammys' and for what? Nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Katie and Burcu came over last night and we had tons of fun on the computer and when there was fifteen minutes left till the Red Carpet Countdown we went to my room, snuggled with my teddys and listened to 'Everything Will Be Alright' from The Killers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Then... on to the Grammys'. No mention of The Killers... a two second clip of Brandon in the 'Somebody Told Me' video. One nomination. No win. Katie leaves. Horrible country performance from various artists. Burcu leaves. Nothing. Nothing. Ray Charles. Nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yup that was pretty much it and it didn't help that I couldn't sleep last night, but I finally did but then woke up at 5:00 a.m. and didn't fall back asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Then I got up, got ready for school. There was ice everywhere, I could hardly walk at all. Too dangerous. I met up with Ayse and we chatted and chatted and then were informed by a moving car that... well this was the conversation (see below):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Moving Car Person: I just heard on the radio that all the york region buses have been cancelled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ayse and Me: YES!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Moving Car Person: But the schools are still open.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ayse and Me: NO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So I went home and my parents drove me to school, last time they didn't. They were feeling evil today. Or cranky by my screaming friends from last night. School was cold. I was late. Payed for the stupid Valentine's Day dance, which was cancelled and postponed for Wendesday. &lt;em&gt;Oh joy...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After school my parents had to pick me up and were very late. And it was still raining.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Katie was walking me back to her house, because she lives close to the school. Very close. At first I was just walking to get closer to my parents, it was impossible in the school driveway. There was wayyy tooo mannyyy carrsss. It was really scary. Like rush hour or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well anyway we soon noticed somebody trailing behind us, my mortal enemy, Andrei R. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Why are you following me?" He says and I smirk and say, "Excuse me? &lt;em&gt;We're&lt;/em&gt; following &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Yeah" he says and then Katie and I struggle to get over the snow and cross the road. Andrei returns to the school but then we find him behind us again and Katie whips around to scream loudly at him. All I did was laugh and hold on to her so I wouldn't fall on the ice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The reason I hate Andrei so much is because we have, &lt;em&gt;history.&lt;/em&gt; He went out with my ex-best friend and ended it in the worst way. (&lt;em&gt;Men...&lt;/em&gt;) Then he confessed everything to me, telling me all sorts of things about her that I didn't even know. Then I started to like him... big mistake. I was young...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I hate the fact he has beautiful greenish-blue eyes and smiles so innocently even though he's the devil. Damn him...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyway he finally left us alone and my parents yelled their heads off when they finally came and saw that my head was competely soaked and lauched into a huge discussion about how I was going to get sick. Now my dad is mad. My mom is too because she found that I ripped up the Valentine card I made for them. But she's over it. My dad isn't. Oh god.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110842101835677843?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110842101835677843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110842101835677843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110842101835677843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110842101835677843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/worst-night-and-worst-day.html' title='Worst Night and Worst Day'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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-10800173.post-110831893026936785</id><published>2005-02-13T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T10:26:54.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High and Hyper</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today are the Grammys' and I've already confirmed with Burcu and Katie our 'date'.&lt;br /&gt;Am I excited? Damn straight, I'm freaking out.&lt;br /&gt;I listened to Alan Cross' radio show on Edge 102.5 and it was all about how music effects our brains mentally and physically. I thought it was totally cool but when my mom came into my room and started talking I hushed her and she got offended and went to work without a good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;I knew she did it to make me feel guilty... well it worked and I hate that feeling. Anyway my dad and his best friend started making some soup in a huge gray pot last night and when I woke up I found out that his friend dropped by early to finish it. Jeez, it's soup. How long can it take?&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I find myself watching MTV2, Joe Budden is on. He's so old. Well at least to me, why are they still playing his song 'Pump it up'? Maybe if it was a good song I would understand but it's terrible. The video is worse.&lt;br /&gt;So, as usual I am torturing myself to see The Killers' videos. It's become a habit of my everyday life. Sad, huh? Well I figured out the MTV2 playlist. Every three hours they play the same video, but at different times. But every 9 hours they play the same video at the exact same time. For example if 'Mr. Brightside' came on at 7:50 a.m. then in 9 hours it would be on at 3:50 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot how I figured that out but I haven't told anyone this secret except my friend Bernice, she's the only &lt;em&gt;nice&lt;/em&gt; person who doesn't remind me of my obsession. I really appreciate that. But she does insist that I have a crush on Brandon, the lead singer of The Killers. I constantly tell her it's not true but she doesn't believe me anyway. What a waste of breath, or words, seeing as how I talk to her alot on MSN.&lt;br /&gt;We don't hang out together at school anymore. It's sad really. Sometimes we fool around with our inside jokes but we weren't as close as we were in the beginning of the year or last year.&lt;br /&gt;At least I have Burcu, I haven't lost much touch with her this school year. But Bernice and Burcu are my best friends, and everybody knows it. I want it to stay that way but I might be going to the same high school as Burcu and not Bernice so there's another tear in our friendship.&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared. I don't want it to end. We have a bond. It's special. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;So... Katie wants to be my best friend. She doesn't ask me but you can tell. She's very close to me but I think it's not allowed to have three best friends. It's some rule I have placed in my brain.&lt;br /&gt;How about Ayse? I'm close with her too. We laugh alot together, always gossiping about everybody in our school because we know everything about everybody. It's weird, people trust us because we don't ever spill secrets. Well, only to each other but that was a secret oath we made after people dubbed us 'Gossip Queens.' Creepy, I know. It wasn't my idea.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also known as the 'Sarcasm Queen' because I'm always sarcastic... no really, &lt;em&gt;always.&lt;/em&gt; It's hard to tell when I am and when I'm not. It's a problem with my parents. Boo-hoo.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be known as 'Killer Queen'... why? Because no matter how many people in my school like 'The Killers' I was the first and am the biggest. No doubt, and everybody knows it. Well they should, or else I'd have to do something crazy to remind them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110831893026936785?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110831893026936785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110831893026936785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110831893026936785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110831893026936785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/high-and-hyper_110831893026936785.html' title='High and Hyper'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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-10800173.post-110825965043372119</id><published>2005-02-12T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T17:54:10.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anti-Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As much as I'd love to boycott my school's Valentine's Day dance I seem to be stuck with the reality I don't have the budget for it seeing as how I gave up all my money to World Vision to help aid victims of the Tsunami. At least I did something good with my money but I can't help but think why I didn't keep just a bit of the money to myself. The one time I should have been acting selfish I had to forget.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So... I could pull down all the decorations and just trash the gym but I decided to just request random songs, like 'Mr. Brightside' by The Killers to &lt;em&gt;hopefully&lt;/em&gt; put some good music in the heads of the mindless zombies known as my peers. They're so dumb with their Usher and Ciara. I don't see the point in that music, I can't understand the lyrics or get the annoying rythmn through my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;On a lighter note, the Grammys' are tomorrow and I am sooo excited. I can not wait to see 'The Killers' and 'Franz Ferdinand' perform and win some awards. (I have &lt;em&gt;faith&lt;/em&gt; I know they will... at least one. Please God!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My friends Katie and Burcu are also coming over at 4:00 to witness this ground-breaking event. I'm just kidding, I can not stand the Grammys' but I will sit through any type of torture to see my favourite band, The Killers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you don't already know I like The Killers very much. Okay, like is a huge understatement. My friends say I am obsessed, I don't like that word but it has defined most of my life, and has taken over the name of my blog. I quote a Killers' song and say this, "She says I'm obsessed, I say I'm in love". That's just too perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10800173-110825965043372119?l=obsessions-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/feeds/110825965043372119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10800173&amp;postID=110825965043372119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110825965043372119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10800173/posts/default/110825965043372119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obsessions-.blogspot.com/2005/02/anti-valentines-day.html' title='Anti-Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>soft_whispers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10086276448337217599</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>
