<?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-8308197773008875686</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:28:31.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a New and Improved Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>Confessions of a teenage girl who changed her life dramatically over the course of...a few months.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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>146</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308197773008875686.post-2935274480378828455</id><published>2008-09-06T11:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T12:00:21.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New School Year, New Problems, New Guys</title><content type='html'>I feel like this is a tv show and the topic of this post is the tagline for a new season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's more of a tagline for my junior year of high school.  It's not too bad actually.  I have lunch with George, Kate and Aaron and there's this new guy who has lived in Morocco and France...tres cute and is on the varsity soccer team with Frank...and I get to see them practice a little bit because I have to walk past the field on my way home from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, this year I have a lot of my classes with Cael, Nick and Brittney.  And even worse Cael and Nick's lockers are right near mine.  But I can handle it cuz I just vent it all out to Salad when I get home.  Speaking of Salad, he isn't going to college just yet but at least now he knows that he wants to be a psycologist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2935274480378828455?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2935274480378828455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2935274480378828455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2935274480378828455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2935274480378828455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-school-year-new-problems-new-guys.html' title='New School Year, New Problems, New Guys'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5298760006341803323</id><published>2008-06-29T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T07:22:52.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Global Regents</title><content type='html'>So my Global Regents was the day after my Chemistry regent and I was scared.  Luckily Will, Kate and Angie were there so I was with them before the test started.  We wanted to get seats together but it went by period in class, so I ended up sitting in front of Wren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to wait 40 minutes before the test actually began and in those 40 minutes, we accidentally peeked in and found out what the DBQ and Thematic essays were and tried to come up with ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The actual test wasn't all that bad.  And when I got out I hung out with Charly, Will, Laquan, Aaron, and the rest of the gang.  Nate and Wren were nearby and Nate said hi but otherwise ignored me.  Which is fine to me because he isn't my friend anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my chem tutor (the physics teacher) came out and she said a quick hi to Nate (Nate is pretty much attatched to her) and came right to me and told me that I passed the chemistry regents with a 65.  Aaron was standing right next to me and I turned to him and started screaming and jumping.  I passed the class I was worried I would fail!  I then knew that I would pass the Global Regents too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she left; Will, Laquan and Aaron took turns picking me up.  It was not fun, especially when Will threw me up in the air, the second time I moved and he caught me but he ended up falling onto the ground.  We were both fine though.  No broken bones, no scrapes no cuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course after that I went to Frank's house for dinner and then we went to Youth Group.  It was cool of course I felt a little out of place at Frank's house because I don't really know anybody.  Youth Group was fun though, we played a game and learned stuff and then we played soccer.  But I was stupid because I went to the exam in my sandals and I didn't bring sneakers so I was playing soccer barefoot, and Salad kept kicking me on the same foot so I was in so much pain by the end of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was fun because it was mainly just me, Salad, George and Salad's cousin.  We made plans to go to Salad's house on Monday and Salad and another girl took the jump ropes and tied George and I together.  We didn't really get into trouble, the guy told us to do that on our own time and when I tried to get Salad for doing that, he (the guy) and Salad said "Oh come on you know you liked it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a few jump rope things, we played a little soccer and at like 9:15, my dad picked me up and we went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up getting a 92 on my Global Regents.  I was so happy :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5298760006341803323?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5298760006341803323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5298760006341803323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5298760006341803323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5298760006341803323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/global-regents.html' title='Global Regents'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-293684504116908403</id><published>2008-06-29T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T06:58:20.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Math Exam</title><content type='html'>My math exam was on Friday the 13th and it fit because some of those questions...I had no idea what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got there and I was talking to Chloe and her friend Sophie (a 9th grader who is gorgeous) so I was talking to them a little bit and I hung out with Will and Kate for awhile and we walked in and we got seats near each other, Wren, Pepper, Al and Paris.  Just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one by one we finished our tests and Kate, Paris and I finished our tests at the exact same time, and we walked out together while talking about the test and what questions we thought we had trouble on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got outside and hung out with Will, who had finished before us, and George's ex girlfriend but after awhile and after signing Kate's yearbook I left.  They tried to get me to stay but...oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up getting a 66 on the exam, meaning I passed but I could have done much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-293684504116908403?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/293684504116908403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=293684504116908403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/293684504116908403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/293684504116908403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/math-exam.html' title='Math Exam'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2870627468077008752</id><published>2008-06-29T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T07:07:11.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chemistry Regents</title><content type='html'>My Chem regents was on the Tuesday after my math exam and I was ready.  Overall I think I spent about 15 hours studying.  10 hours in the review sessions and 5 hours listening to the recording I made (Which means I listened to it about 10 times).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got there and met up with Kate, Pepper, Angie and everybody in that group.  Then Kate and I went over to Aaron and Salad and I gave Salad a hard time because he called me the day before when I was with George and Salad once again interrupted a romantic moment.  Not that it was anything new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the four of us made plans to sit in a square so we could copy off of Aaron but we didn't have that kind of luck.  By the time we got inside there was no way we could have sat together.  We tried but the seat Salad was sitting in didn't have a test on it so he made me come with him up to the front so he wouldn't be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the test the two of us talked about a lot of stuff...mostly Chrissy since she wasn't sitting too far away and Salad really needed to get over her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the test started, I was ecstatic to see that the first couple questions I actually knew the answer to.  But after that it got harder, much harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About three quarters of the way through the test, Salad leaned back and asked if I was almost done and I told him I was.  So after that I finished up the questions that I knew and I asked for the teacher.  Unfortunately my chem teacher made me do the two questions I didn't know, so after some thought, I figured them out and handed them to her and walked out the door.  YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to wait for somebody I knew because on the other side of the outside area were the girls I really didn't like.  They said hi and I said hi and I was going to write and get my music out but when I did Salad walks out and says "Let's go to George's house"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'm not going to turn that down.  An afternoon after my chem regents with George and Salad?  I'm there!  So we start walking towards his house and we talk and stuff, but when we get about half way there I realize that George is probably working (which would make sense because he didn't answer his cell phone) so Salad says "Okay let's call Frank"  so he used my phone to call Frank...he didn't answer.  So we guessed he was still taking the test.  Since our houses were on opposite sides of the city (we could probably both go to different schools) we decided to see each other later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I get home and find out that Frank called me back 5 minutes later and George wasn't at work and when we were going, he was home alone.  Lucky us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up getting a 65 on the chemistry regents.  Meaning I'm done and I never have to take chem ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2870627468077008752?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2870627468077008752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2870627468077008752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2870627468077008752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2870627468077008752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/chemistry-regents.html' title='Chemistry Regents'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1506530014660332806</id><published>2008-06-29T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T06:43:59.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Exam</title><content type='html'>So I had an in class English exam that was to be two days.  It was supposed to be the 10th and 11th and we would have a party on the 13th, but that was changed for several reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt; The 13th became a testing day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; We got out early on the 10th because it was too hot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;So our exam dates became the 11th and 12th.  The first day was multiple choice and I thought it was pretty easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we had to write an essay based on several readings, of course we had a sub that day and just as we were getting situated the fire alarm goes off and we are all sent outside.  So I hung out with George because his class was right next door to mine, which meant that I got to be with him...and Frank...Frank was there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayna was there too, she was talking to George a little bit, but you know he doesn't like her very much so I doubt he was listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back to class we were given extra time to finish it in 9th period...unless your 9th period class had a test, then you had to leave your name and number so our English teacher could call you.  Lucky for me I just had Advanced Journalism (which I got an 85 in) so I could stay later without worrying about missing anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1506530014660332806?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1506530014660332806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1506530014660332806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1506530014660332806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1506530014660332806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/english-exam.html' title='English Exam'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-6009019212777470457</id><published>2008-06-29T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T06:36:32.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Report Card</title><content type='html'>Ok so I got my report card yesterday and I was freaking out for so many reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt; I was worried about my Global Regents&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I was worried about my math exam&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I was afraid that the report card would say that I skipped classes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I found out the day of my Global exam from my Chemistry tutor that I passed the Chem regents with a 65.  And Aaron and I were jumping up and down because I was so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I found out yesterday that I got a 66 on my math exam (I didn't study), a 80 on my English exam (didn't study), and a 92 on my Global Regents (barely studied) so overall my average of grades was about a 75 which is pretty good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year though, I'm sure I will do better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-6009019212777470457?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6009019212777470457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=6009019212777470457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6009019212777470457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6009019212777470457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/report-card.html' title='Report Card'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1919605759590309037</id><published>2008-06-07T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T07:29:15.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chloe vs Tawnee</title><content type='html'>So Chloe and Tawnee were like bff's since we met in Study hall at the beginning of the year.  At first the 3 of us were shy around each other, but we soon warmed up to each other, especially when we went through Tawnee's fashion magazine's.  It became tradition for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can understand that it seemed like fate when Chloe moved close to Tawnee.  They started spending practically all of their time together.  Before school, Chloe would come for breakfast and for a ride to school, then after school they walked home together and spent time at Tawnee's house.  Everything seemed right, of course something happened and they got into a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fight probably lasted about a week before Tawnee apologized and the two became close again.  Then Chloe got a boyfriend and things were a little different, but they still spent time together.  Of course one day when Chloe was at Tawnee's house, Tawnee had another friend over who needed to use the phone, so Tawnee brought her into another room.  Chloe, being left alone, took out her cell phone and called her boyfriend to make sure they were still meeting up later and Tawnee came in, saw Chloe on the phone and flipped out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They haven't talked since then.  Tawnee feels terrible about it, but Chloe is glad they aren't friends anymore and calls Tawnee a witch all the time and doesn't go to study hall when Tawnee is there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully they don't put me in the middle of it, in fact, Chloe and I haven't talked much lately because she never comes to study hall anymore and we don't get a chance to talk during classes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1919605759590309037?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1919605759590309037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1919605759590309037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1919605759590309037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1919605759590309037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/chloe-vs-tawnee.html' title='Chloe vs Tawnee'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2312618284247250485</id><published>2008-06-04T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:33:18.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ketchup part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May 1st 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So on the first of May, things were still crazy.  Maybe crazier if that was possible.  Will still wouldn't talk to me, I was mad at Salad because he told George in the first place, George was sort of mad at me for not telling him about the bet and poor Angie was to go-between for everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May 2nd 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the last day, the day everything just sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George, Pepper and Al were going to the cafe that afternoon and they invited me to come and Chloe and I made plans at the cafe too because we haven't spend too much time together after school lately.  Of course George found out about my plans with Chloe and flipped out because he, Pepper and Al don't like Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I left school and Angie told me that because of what was happening, Pepper and Al (who were the "perfect Gothic/punkish" couple) were going through some issues because Pepper thought that because of the bet, Al was going to leave her for me (Not going to happen, I barely know him) and everybody tried to tell her that but she wouldn't listen, and he was crying because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening when I was on my way to the cafe to meet with Chloe (I kept my plans with Chloe but skipped the plans with George, Pepper and Al because I didn't want to get beat up) but while I was on my way, Chloe called and canceled.  I found out Monday that she went later with some other friends, and George didn't go either because I wasn't going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is fine now.  George and I are still together, Pepper and Al are still together and Will and I are back to being friends...of course Will now despises Salad and Frank too because he thinks that they took a joke (aka the bet) too far.  I'm so glad this is over because this was the suckiest weekend I had in awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2312618284247250485?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2312618284247250485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2312618284247250485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2312618284247250485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2312618284247250485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/ketchup-part-2.html' title='Ketchup part 2'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5410247455636279401</id><published>2008-06-04T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:22:47.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ketchup part 1</title><content type='html'>Ketchup (which is Catch Up or catching up in...well...my vocabulary) is what I really need to do with this blog.  My last post was on May 8th, which is almost a month ago and I promised to add a whole lot of information that I haven't added yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so here's the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;April 30th, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so April 30th started out as just a normal day.  But something snapped I guess because one minute I'm talking to Aaron and Salad after chem class and the next minute I tell them about this bet that Will made with me. (and I foolishly agreed to)  And if you have read some of my previous posts then you would know that Will and I have made other bets that were pretty stupid...but this has to be the dumbest one yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got to Math class on April 29th just after Will, Jay and Al do and since they sit around me I made a joke about how I just fit in there.   That sparked it all, Will and I made a bet that if I got there after them then I had to flash all three of them and George but if I got there before Will then he couldn't badmouth Salad, George and Frank for the rest of the year; Jay had to shut up for all of May and Al would be my personal bodyguard for 2 weeks.  So I stupidly took the bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I told Salad about it the next day, I also told him that Will has sexually assaulted me a few times (not a lie, seriously he has done this...often.  Not so much anymore though) and Salad got upset.  I told him not to tell George but he didn't listen.  The minute George walked into the classroom, Salad went up and told him everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, later that day, Chloe came to my art class and I was talking to her about it.  I also told her about the note that Will wrote to me saying that he wanted to be my first.  Chloe told me not to show it to George because it would just make him upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't listen to her.  I showed him the note and he and Frank left our cafeteria and came back a few minutes later, refusing to tell me anything.  All I knew for sure was that I couldn't sit with the guys during math anymore because I knew Will was upset with me...Frank and George wouldn't tell me what they did but I knew it had something to do with Will.  I mean come on, I'm not THAT stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was right.  Will wouldn't talk to me at all, he wouldn't even look at me really.  I felt terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after school Angie came up to me (she had been on a trip all day) and asked me what happened with Will (since he just told her his side of the story) but George turned me around and mouthed to her that I didn't know.  And that was that, Angie could no longer tell me anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5410247455636279401?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5410247455636279401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5410247455636279401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5410247455636279401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5410247455636279401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/06/ketchup-part-1.html' title='Ketchup part 1'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8579203029196122131</id><published>2008-05-08T19:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T19:24:35.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is just a WOW day</title><content type='html'>Wow days are unpredictable.  They come up whenever possible just to make life more interesting, they bring out of character quirks to people you know just to surprise you, or they bring in character quirks that still surprise you...or they just bring things that are surprising in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course on a wow day, George and Kate...aren't here.  But that doesn't mean that they didn't contribute to the wow day at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few things that surprised me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;In Chemistry class, sweet, innocent Wren had a breakdown.  An Administrator came into the room and asked to talk to her.  Wren tried to come up with excuses but they didn't help.  She stomped out of the room and then started screaming at the administrator the minute she got out of class saying "I hate you!" and a whole lot of other things that I couldn't make out.  Our whole class was surprised, and for awhile, everybody was talking about it.  It was the first instance of a wow day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In gym class, Salad and I were on the same team with like...a million other people, so we had some time to talk.  We had played soccer together the day before where he saw this girl "Beth" who kept going up against him for the ball.  He told me that he liked it and wouldn't mind if she kept doing it, and of course...he kept bringing it up...and bringing it up...sure it's not that surprising...but a part of me is wondering...does this mean he wants to make me jealous or something?  He didn't say it to anybody else, just me...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cleo didn't want to go to study hall so she came with me and Angie to chem review.  That's not the surprising part.  She and Tawnee had a fight and neither of them want to be anywhere near each other now, they have completely given up on their friendship...and they used to be really close.  They hung out all the time and everything...now there's nothing...all because of Cleo's boyfriend...and a phone call...I'll explain later.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;So after not talking to Will for days (again, I'll explain later) I agreed to sit with him again, and much to my surprise things were better with the guys over there...they were less pervy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Also with those guys...Will told me something that surprised me.  He might be a father.  As in, he might have gotten his girlfriend pregnant but they don't know yet.  The problem?  The kid might not be his.  The Good News?  If it is his, I might get to be the godmother.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;So Jorge and I were texting when he found out that his grandfather died...that's just...wow.  Way to end a wow day huh?  A death...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8579203029196122131?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8579203029196122131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8579203029196122131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8579203029196122131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8579203029196122131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/05/today-is-just-wow-day.html' title='Today is just a WOW day'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2318109544596745206</id><published>2008-04-28T18:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T18:27:18.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Salad</title><content type='html'>I was over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really.  Truthfully Over him.&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't really thought about him that much.&lt;br /&gt;He was beginning to fade from my mind like that.&lt;br /&gt;He was just my friend.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We were JUST friends.  Really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happened today that changed that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were having fun, fooling around as always, nothing new, nothing different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I have feelings for him again?&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it have been when he had my hand in his?  Did it feel right like it did with George?  It couldn't have...could it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't matter, maybe it's a good thing I can't go Wednesday, maybe I need a break from both of them, so I'm not going to George's house tomorrow...but another day I might...who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Right now I just need some time to think.  And I don't even know what brought it on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2318109544596745206?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2318109544596745206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2318109544596745206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2318109544596745206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2318109544596745206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/04/stupid-salad.html' title='Stupid Salad'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1124086205775035489</id><published>2008-04-28T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T18:23:25.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 word...OBNOXIOUS</title><content type='html'>Ok so it seems like a lot of my posts are about Salad and George, so why don't we keep that going here?  Here is yet another post about those two losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This took place last Wednesday, after school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so the school day ended and I go with George to his house to spend time with him.  I like his house, it's right by my church where the houses are big and have several different families in them.  I was surprised though, out of all the time I spent in his room nobody in his family dared enter.  My parents would be in front of the door listening in to everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry I didn't sleep with George though, we spent about an hour and a half making out in his chair but we didn't have sex.  I promise.  Although I can't promise that we were both completely clothed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway after about an hour and a half of that, we straightened ourselves up and walked to Frank's house (which is conveniently a short walk away) and he played video games with this other guy, we had dinner with Frank, Frank's parents, and a few other people, I got my book back.  (I got this book in Florida about soccer, I figured that I wouldn't be the only person reading it because I figured Frank, George and Salad would read it too.  Unfortunately I was right, I got it last Friday in Florida, I brought it to school Monday, Salad had it that whole day, Frank had it until Wednesday night and George...still has it)  And then Salad came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All was fine...except for when Frank's mom drove me, Salad and George to Soccer.  We were terrible to each other, seriously we were terrorizing each other.  Arguing about everything from Chemistry to well...that and what we are actually capable of doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't stop there, I was bored and had time to kill before group stuff started so I went into the guy's room, it was just the three of them and their "teacher" and while their teacher let me stay, the boys threw a fit.  And I gave them a reason to, I gave them attitude's, I hit Salad a few times and when Frank threw his sandals at me I threw them right back.  Frank even tried stripping in front of me to get me to go away (it didn't work, he chickened out), finally they said something so I stepped out.  George tried to kiss me but I told him that I wouldn't give him anything because of that, so he slammed the door in my face.  I re-opened the door Salad tried to close it on me, I gave George a hug and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at soccer it was basically just me, Salad and George and they were...well just as obnoxious as they were earlier.  Although I can't say that I was much better.  I fought fire with fire and we all came out burned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1124086205775035489?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1124086205775035489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1124086205775035489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1124086205775035489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1124086205775035489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/04/1-wordobnoxious.html' title='1 word...OBNOXIOUS'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-597892376610759018</id><published>2008-04-22T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T18:46:59.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrafices</title><content type='html'>When I started hanging out with Salad, Frank and George I ended up losing four of my best friends.  But I didn't care...much.  I had three better friends who were older than me and didn't make me feel stupid all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until recently that I realized that because of them I am going to have a hard time fitting in with other girls.  I'm saying this seriously here so don't laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brie was my best friend, and we never let a guy get in the middle of us before because she usually got the guy so it was really no use for me to try that hard.  So over a year ago when she started going out with Frank, I became friends with Frank instead of trying to date him but I didn't realize how close we were as friends until Frank and Brie broke up.  After that we stayed friends but I would never say that to her, I would always twist it to make it seem like I was hurting him which she and most of her friends believed until this year...which she left and took Cael and Nate with her because neither of them liked Frank either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lane had been a good friend of mine for years, and since I was used to only fighting with Brie over a guy, I never thought I would fight with Lane over a guy.  Which is apparently what I'm doing now.  Lane and I used to talk a lot but after she said hi to George and I (which we didn't hear) she got annoyed because we didn't answer her so she went to Kate and bitched to her to which Kate shut her up by saying that since George and I were dating we didn't have to listen to anybody.  After that she's been talking to me less and less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chrissy was the first person I met when I started middle school.  She sat next to me in homeroom and English class, we were both quiet so we didn't have much of a conversation...ever...until she started dating Salad.  I learned more about her from him than I did from her.  Of course they broke up and when she sees me in Global class (she sits next to me) she doesn't say hi like she used to, and if she needs to talk to somebody at our table, she'll talk to Brae or Chloe but never me.  I think she thinks that I'm upset with her for breaking up with Salad...but I'm not...it's none of my business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe is even getting annoying when it comes to those three.  She doesn't like them, they don't like her...great isn't it?  Well it wasn't that bad until a few weeks ago when she came to my lunch period after we got back from a trip, she and George HATE each other and without saying anything to each other (anything they had to say about the other went to me) they got into a fight.  Things seemed to calm down after that...but today...well you could tell the guys probably didn't want me to hang out with her because between homeroom and Global, Frank stopped me in the hallway so I was talking to him instead of Chloe because she was further down the hall, then between Global and study hall, George stopped me in the hallway and started talking to me so Chloe went on without me and finally between study hall and art, Salad pulled me away from her because he had a problem...truthfully I don't think he had a problem because he was looking for Sherry but she was pretty much right in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So because of these 3 guys who are all 2 years older than me I have lost several friends and I could lose several more because I've already ticked off Will when I didn't go sit with him the two days I said I would, one day because Salad came to my lunch period and the other because George and Frank wouldn't let me go.  Maybe hanging out with them is doing more bad than good to my social life, I mean they will be gone before these people will be, and with my luck I'll never see them again...so for the friendship of three guys I lose the friendship of several others.  That's just my luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-597892376610759018?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/597892376610759018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=597892376610759018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/597892376610759018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/597892376610759018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/04/sacrafices.html' title='Sacrafices'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1959438749201425047</id><published>2008-04-22T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T18:23:51.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April Fool's Prank</title><content type='html'>I know this is really late but I didn't have a lot of time or interest to type stuff up lately.  But here's something important that I figured I'd post on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on March 31st I sent an email to my cousin Terri as an April Fool's prank that George got me pregnant.  A lie...to me, George and everybody we know but Terri lives hours away so wouldn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she called me the next day and I tried to avoid it but after awhile I gave in and said:  April Fools.  So we chatted for a little bit after that but then she went on Salad's myspace and wrote that I turn guys gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it started out as pure innocent fun...now I'm annoyed.  My guy friends think it's funny but really I am so mad at her.  George is mad at her too, and doesn't like her because of it.  He called her a jerk once but I don't think she really understood it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the quick post but I'm not really in the writing mood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1959438749201425047?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1959438749201425047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1959438749201425047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1959438749201425047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1959438749201425047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/04/april-fools-prank.html' title='April Fool&apos;s Prank'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3720271553798434234</id><published>2008-03-20T18:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T19:00:51.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They Do This on Purpose</title><content type='html'>So yesterday was Wednesday and that means I play soccer with the guys.   Two of those guys being George and Salad (who look AMAZING covered in sweat) and I swear sometimes I think they do things just to make me look at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, the three of us almost kicked each other in the face because we all lifted up a leg (really high) just to get the ball which was really dumb because we all missed the ball by like...a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And later, George slammed into Salad and they both fell to the ground, Salad tumbling before hitting the ground with his face to the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So both of them were on the ground and there I was staring at them from the other side of the room.  I was so mad at myself for not doing anything but staring at them for like...3 minutes, but they looked okay over there by themselves, George helped Salad get up so by the time I got over there to make sure they were both okay, Salad was sitting on the ground and George was standing up.  They were both fine, but I kind of wished I had gotten over there earlier just to be near them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was okay...I talked to Salad...about George.  It was short but it was something because we hadn't really talked in a while.&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  George is funny&lt;br /&gt;Me:  I know.&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  I know you know, I was just...yeah...&lt;br /&gt;Me:  ...I know.&lt;br /&gt;Okay so I could have made this conversation better and I didn't...sorry my fault but what could I say?  I didn't want to blurt out something stupid that would make me regret opening my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I spent time with George too, before we started the game, he put his arms around my waist.  Of course he was sweaty from crew and the soccer practice before I got there so when I put my head against his, half of my face got wet.  He was also holding me before Frank and Salad picked him to be on their team (seriously why him and not me?) that's okay though because after like...half an hour George came over to my team because half of both teams left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun though, because I sort of met Frank's girlfriend (I know what she looks like in person) and I met his mom (she's nice) of course I didn't realize that she was Frank's mom until my dad said something.  Oh yeah and I got to hang out with three of the coolest guys that I know. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3720271553798434234?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3720271553798434234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3720271553798434234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3720271553798434234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3720271553798434234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/they-do-this-on-purpose.html' title='They Do This on Purpose'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4546896135301340381</id><published>2008-03-20T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:07:01.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd Lie</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sGTxtdUCIWY&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;amp;border=1&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sGTxtdUCIWY&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;amp;border=1&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy how much Taylor Swift's songs relate to me and Salad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this one is called I'd lie.  It's about a girl who likes a guy who doesn't like her back, but knows more about him than anybody else does.  Of course if anybody ever asked her if she loved him, she would lie and say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's kind of how Salad and I am.  Especially the line: "he loves to argue" &lt;br /&gt;because Salad and I argue all the time, it's fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I know this is terrible, I do care about George but there is still something about Salad...I can't put my finger on it.  Maybe it's that even though we argue with each other all the time, he's still a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a couple days ago, we were arguing about how long we had left in class and I won (although he doesn't think so) and Kate rolls her eyes and says "bicker bicker bicker"  I swear you two bicker like an old married couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a few minutes later, when I made a mistake, he was the first person to stick up for me.  And I really liked that.  So I guess he's a great friend to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know a lot about him, not simple things like if his favorite color is green or not, but deeper things, like how he feels about girls...and life.  But I do know that he likes girls, soccer and music and that he has skipped economics class at least once.  Plus I know part of his schedule because I run into him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course if you asked me if I had any interest in him, I'd lie.  I have George and that should be good enough for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4546896135301340381?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4546896135301340381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4546896135301340381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4546896135301340381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4546896135301340381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/id-lie.html' title='I&apos;d Lie'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3307210318735674955</id><published>2008-03-20T13:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T14:15:55.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling Apart</title><content type='html'>This really isn't fair, I can never seem to pull myself together.  Whenever things seem to be looking up, there is always something that brings me back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a great boyfriend who cares about me, great friends and I can usually find something to do.   This is really good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it only takes 1 person to ruin it all.  And that would be my cousin Terri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her to death I really do but I don't like finding out just now that she has been lying to me for years.  In fact I think she just lied to me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I were talking on AIM and we exchanged myspace's.  So I showed her my friend list (which included Frank, Chloe, Salad and George) and she added them.  Chloe fell in love with Terri and has been begging me to call her when Terri comes over next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terri was supposed to be here today but that didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently she got into a fight with her mom so her mom kicked her out of the car so she walked to her dad's house which was apparently 2 minutes away.  So now she isn't coming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is furious now, because Terri put her in an awkward position with our grandfather and now she isn't showing up to dinner.  And I'm upset because now I have to go back on my promise and Chloe will be upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness I have a date with George tomorrow, I really need some time away from everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3307210318735674955?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3307210318735674955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3307210318735674955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3307210318735674955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3307210318735674955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/falling-apart.html' title='Falling Apart'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2907211890358107043</id><published>2008-03-17T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T16:06:06.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Friends I have...</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;So my old friends (excluding Anna and Terri) all left me, which was good because they weren't good friends but my new friends are way different.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have two good friends Will and Chloe who absolutely hate each other, especially during math when they both want me to sit near them. But despite all of that, they both have 1 thing in common. They both Hate George, and he doesn't like them either. And I'm not using Hate lightly here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else?  They don't like Salad much either, but they like him better than Jorge at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the story: After spending 2 periods hanging out with Salad, I go hang out with my friend Will who says to me "I don't think your boyfriend likes me" No duh. "Probably because I dated his ex-girlfriend and we hang out a lot." Yeah, that might do it. Of course as he's telling me this, we're walking down to the math wing where Salad has homeroom, and while we're talking, Salad is a few steps away, probably listening to everything because we're so loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later, Chloe and I were leaving our English teachers classroom (so she could find out the homework...which she already knew) and when we got out there was Salad, so she said a few things about George then went on to talking to our friend Tawnee so I could talk to Salad.  And of course while Salad and I were talking, Tawnee and Chloe were watching.  Tawnee told Chloe that she thought Salad was ugly, to which Chloe replied "Well he looks better than George."  Chloe also told me that she thought Salad and I walked the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later, during math class instead of listening to Will go on and on about how George is gay. I sat with Chloe and she wrote a phone number for a fake guy on her hand and told me to show George.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how great my bff's are?  Even though they hate Salad and George, and they claim to want only my happiness, they both seem to be pushing me towards Salad.  I don't know why...Salad is just my friend...just my friend...I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2907211890358107043?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2907211890358107043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2907211890358107043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2907211890358107043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2907211890358107043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/friends-i-have.html' title='The Friends I have...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5109404007942477392</id><published>2008-03-14T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T19:49:06.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter + Sweet</title><content type='html'>The following happened on March 11th, 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to school today, and this little voice in my head says to me: Today your day is going to be bitter and sweet, but don't worry, you'll still get that kiss from George you wanted. And guess what? I did get that kiss...sort of...and my day was bitter and sweet! (scary isn't it?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 1st period, my chem teacher was evil, she apparently assigned us homework that only 3 people knew we had, she went off on Salad because he was listening to music, and then got into an argument with Frank because he had his phone out and he was texting somebody but she asked three times and he wouldn't close his phone so he was sent to the office.  Angie said that she thought he was crying at first glance, but she had to look again.  Kate looked at me and said "Well that was out of character" because Frank got really angry, I mean more angry than I have ever seen him get...but I've never really seen him angry, he's always very level headed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then 2nd period in gym I caught the ball (in wiffle ball) so I got somebody out!  I was also talking to Salad a little bit, he told me he had no idea what was going on either (which really sucks because he and George are two of his best friends and if they don't know...how am I supposed to get the details?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later...my bff Chloe and I were coming out of our English teachers classroom so she could get something and we ran into Michael. So while Chloe was chatting with Wren, Salad and I were making fun of each other, then Chloe pushed me into him, and I ended up having to hold onto him for support and Chloe was right...I did like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During lunch though...wow...George and I both tried to penetrate the mind of Frank to see if anything was bothering him...it didn't work. But they did fall asleep, and it was so cute! (not really) but I was George's pillow...and I did get a kiss from George...sort of...he pulled me over, and we tried to kiss but since the administrator people were right near by...yeah...but our lips did touch.  Sorta, kinda...George pulled me over to make out and even though I knew it was going to happen, I couldn't open my mouth...or if I did, I didn't do very well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't take that as I'm afraid of kissing or that I'm still hung up on Salad because I'm not, I'm afraid that by kissing him, I'll fall in too deep and end up hurt when we break up.  And since I'm still trying to get over the fact that Cael, Nate, Brie and Rayna left me...it wouldn't be easy, but next time...next time I might just do better...especially if it isn't in school...in the lunchroom...near the administrators.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5109404007942477392?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5109404007942477392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5109404007942477392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5109404007942477392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5109404007942477392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/bitter-sweet.html' title='Bitter + Sweet'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3655802126195233547</id><published>2008-03-14T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T19:39:42.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Along...Please?</title><content type='html'>I love my friends, I really do, but there is no way that I can love how they act towards my other friends.  I mean they are even rude to them to their faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.  Sometimes I wonder how I'm friends with all these different people because most of them hate each other. (I'm telling the truth here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take today for example...come to think of it, today is a perfect example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see my buddy Chloe, hates Will, Aaron, Frank, Salad and George.  I mean hates...really hates.  She thinks Aaron and Will are pervs, she thinks Frank is an idiot, she thinks Salad is too romantic and slightly stalker-ish and she thinks George is a jerk, and she refuses to look at him because she says that just the sight of him makes her sick.  She is also annoyed with Lara because she thinks Lara is annoying and doesn't like her but pretends to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know that's okay because Will, Salad and George don't really like Chloe either.  I'm guessing there are a few back stories to these...and she told me Salad's and George's and I think Will told me his back story with Chloe...I think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And later Will was going on and on about how Frank, Salad and George are all gay and will be spending tomorrow morning 'doing' each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully I can understand where they are getting all these assumptions, I mean if I heard some of their conversations...without really knowing them...I would probably think those same things but since I know them I know they aren't that bad.  Really.  Now if only I could get somebody to believe that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3655802126195233547?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3655802126195233547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3655802126195233547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3655802126195233547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3655802126195233547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/get-alongplease.html' title='Get Along...Please?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3774684312817287473</id><published>2008-03-10T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T18:19:08.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If Things Went This Way...</title><content type='html'>Life would be crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean is...if Salad, Frank, Aaron and George were dating Me, Kate, Angie and Lara. (Yes in that order, so me and Salad, Frank and Kate, Aaron and Angie and George and Lara.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me crazy but it would be funny if that happened.  The 8 of us are already good friends...and we get along well...sort of...kind of...eh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we could Quadruple date...and then all us girls can bitch about our boyfriends while they do the same about us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure your wondering how the hell I came up with such a stupid idea...well you see it all started when I found out that Lara liked George, when I thought Salad liked me, when Frank and Kate sorta flirt and when Aaron first became addicted to Angie's chain gloves.  Yes that was at four separate times, so the thought has gone through my mind many times.  But if you really knew the 8 of us, you would understand, we could be four freaking awesome couples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it won't work out that way...it would be cool if it did, but it's also cool that it won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3774684312817287473?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3774684312817287473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3774684312817287473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3774684312817287473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3774684312817287473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-things-went-this-way.html' title='If Things Went This Way...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3923446079728757761</id><published>2008-03-10T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T18:03:06.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chloe versus George</title><content type='html'>Chloe and George can't get along.  I mean seriously, I mention George to Chloe and she associates his name with Dumbass.  I mention Chloe to George and he ignores the conversation at any cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously this isn't easy...when one of your closest friends despises your boyfriend and of course...the feeling is mutual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I realized one thing that really makes a possible friendship impossible.  They have very different views on music.  VERY DIFFERENT.  She hates his music, he hates her music.  And when I say hate I do mean hate...or maybe despise is more the word I'm looking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe likes music from England, so Lily Allen, Kate Nash...other artists I don't know and the American musicians she likes are Sara Barellies, Taylor Swift, Ingrid Michaelson.  You know artists like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George hates Lily Allen...I don't know about the other musicians (although I doubt he's heard of any of them) he's more interested in rock and although I don't know all the musicians he likes I know his favorite band is System of a Down.  And of course Chloe despises them...and any other band that does music similar to theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since both of them live for music...yeah...Chloe and George...how do I put up with them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3923446079728757761?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3923446079728757761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3923446079728757761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3923446079728757761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3923446079728757761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/chloe-versus-george.html' title='Chloe versus George'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-691622673825551411</id><published>2008-03-10T17:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:52:52.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Missed Wednesday</title><content type='html'>Okay so Wednesday nights are for soccer now remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well last week I couldn't go because I got a 68% on my chem test (hey at least I passed it...but it was an open book test so that wasn't good...I swear she hates me or something) so I texted George and said I wasn't going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which he replied that he would miss me and that after my request, he would score a goal for me (I doubt he did that though) and that he was going to kiss me that night.  Now that was enough to make me say:  "I wish I studied more"  So I spent most of the night upset because I missed out on my kiss and a soccer game with George, Frank and Salad.  (That doesn't go down well with me...both of those really not one or the other)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the next day, I got to school and George and I were talking but he was tired and sort of looked...I don't know...hung over and the funny thing was when Frank and Salad came to school, they looked hung over too.  Sure they said that they were just tired but they really did look hung over.  So maybe it was good that I didn't go...I would have come to school hungover too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-691622673825551411?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/691622673825551411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=691622673825551411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/691622673825551411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/691622673825551411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/missed-wednesday.html' title='A Missed Wednesday'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7282240388642528939</id><published>2008-03-10T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:22:49.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bimbos and Baseball</title><content type='html'>Yes you did read the title right, this is about Kat, Jen and their friends being...well themselves during a "baseball" game in gym.  It's not all about them of course, Angie, Salad and I have to make an appearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah...Salad, Angie, and I were all on the same baseball team...actually it's whiffle ball but for the sake of the post I'm calling it baseball.  So Salad and I have a little argument (not surprising) and Angie and I joke around (again not surprising) but it all comes full circle when the ball hits Angie in the head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAM, it all happened so fast but it was hilarious.  Angie, Salad and I were laughing hysterically...I doubt anybody else was though.  Who cares though?  Most of the people playing whiffle ball with us are our guy friends and even a few of our girl friends.  And the cool thing about the girls that are playing, is that they know less of the rules than Angie and I do, so they mess up more than we do, which is good because I hate being embarrassed when I mess up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Kat, Jen, Mar and some of their friends are also playing baseball with us, so that makes it all the more interesting...not during the first game, but during the second game...well that was another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see what happened was, while Angie, Salad and I were in the outfield Mar comes up to me, at first my plan is to ignore her but I felt bad and I looked over to her thinking we would have a nice little short conversation.  I got something else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you dating J.M.?"  she asked.  Seriously...I was not expecting that, I think I stared at her dumbstruck for a couple seconds.  I mean how do you get J.M?  The only times I have ever talked to him was when were were both on the soccer field, both playing wiffle ball, or when he came over to our table a few times during lunch.  In like two out of three of those places...we didn't get along too well, but we do act civilized towards one another, which is better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No" I told her.  But of course, she wasn't convinced, and had to ask "Are you sure?" uh yeah.  "Are you positive?" No duh!  I just told you twice that I'm not dating J.M when are you going to believe it?&lt;br /&gt;Obviously...that isn't what I said, no stupid me said "Actually I'm seeing somebody else." which of course led to her asking questions about who it is and I ended up spilling to beans to Kat.  Actually, I told more to Kat and Mar than I did Kate and Angie (I'm sure Angie LOVED that since everything I was telling Kat and Mar was news to her too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the harassment stopped and they left me alone...NOT.  Actually they got their friend Jalen to pretend that he wanted me to be his girlfriend and they asked me if I would break up with George for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I actually like my boyfriend" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?   Why?" Mar asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good question...I really have no clue.  But I do know that I was glad for that period to end and the next gym class...I skipped out on baseball.  Tomorrow I have to go back to it though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7282240388642528939?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7282240388642528939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7282240388642528939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7282240388642528939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7282240388642528939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/bimbos-and-baseball.html' title='Bimbos and Baseball'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5332883903714832952</id><published>2008-03-10T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:04:00.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awww.....</title><content type='html'>So a few days ago during lunch, I don't remember the exact day, but I remember that it was last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY...it was during lunch last week and it was unexpected.  George and I were flirting a lot, and near the end of the period, we were cuddling.  I don't remember exactly how it happened but I think that he sort of pulled me over and I just followed, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then got comfortable in his warmth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it wasn't all that comfortable because the chairs in the lunchroom...suck, so instead of it being a cute, comfortable moment it was more of a  cute, semi-comfortable moment because I had to keep myself balanced on the chair I was sitting on, otherwise I would have fallen flat on my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But aside from that it was cute, and I felt comfortable in his arms so that's good.  What's better was that Frank didn't say anything stupid when he saw...come to think of it...today when George and I were flirting Will just said he wished us the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now call me paranoid but I swear something is going on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but whatever...I had a cute moment in school *SQUEE* I don't feel left out anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5332883903714832952?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5332883903714832952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5332883903714832952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5332883903714832952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5332883903714832952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/awww.html' title='Awww.....'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7874071289323666727</id><published>2008-03-10T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T19:36:00.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shocking</title><content type='html'>This is peer pressure in action:&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  Come on Aaron, you are the only one in the chem class who hasn't done it already.&lt;br /&gt;Aaron:  No way, I'm not going anywhere near that thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, Salad isn't trying to get Aaron to try drugs or sex...I don't think Salad would even try either of those. Actually it was one of those things that look like mp3 players but they actually shock you. I think Salad was borrowing it from somebody so everybody in our chem class was using it. The "shocky thing" really shocks you (if you've ever been shocked by it before you understand) it's not a small shock but out of all of us, Angie had it the worst because she had chain gloves on (and metal is a conductor of electricity). And of course at the end of the period, George comes in and Salad and he are playing with the shocky thing (it is really annoying to see them standing next to each other) and George says "This feels so good" so Salad and Frank look at me and tell me that I have a weird boyfriend. They don't have to tell me, I know.&lt;br /&gt;And after lunch; Frank, George and I were trying to get other people to get shocked but because we aren't trustworthy, everybody knew and at the end of the day...Salad finished off the battery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And there went our fun....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7874071289323666727?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7874071289323666727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7874071289323666727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7874071289323666727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7874071289323666727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/shocking.html' title='Shocking'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7125114319026873577</id><published>2008-03-07T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T18:33:25.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So much to say...</title><content type='html'>Wow I have so much to say, I can't believe I haven't been blogging lately.  I'll try to fill you in on everything that has happened in the past few days because a lot has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little list to get you curious for the upcoming posts that I'll be adding slowly over this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;A &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shocking&lt;/span&gt; experience&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cuddling...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baseball&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kat and her friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some tests...4 of them to be exact&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A missed experience/good thing I missed it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Yeah...everything will be explained this weekend, with more than what I gave you.  I don't feel like writing too much right now so...yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7125114319026873577?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7125114319026873577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7125114319026873577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7125114319026873577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7125114319026873577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-much-to-say.html' title='So much to say...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-116190336408413335</id><published>2008-03-02T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T09:12:12.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Think...</title><content type='html'>I think I'm over Salad...but I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be able to tell him that I don't like him...but what if I can't?&lt;br /&gt;I thought Salad liked me...but apparantly I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I should not think anymore because when I do...I'm usually wrong.  I've been thinking about this a lot and I realized that I really loved being in George's arms because he was warm and somewhat strong (okay...he's stronger than me) while I can push Salad across the hallway if I wanted to and he isn't as warm as George...but he is softer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now I am 99.99999% sure that I like George more than Salad, and that I would rather want Salad as a friend, but we'll see what happens tomorrow when I try to explain that to Salad.  I'm not sure if I'll be able to say it or if we'll just continue to ignore each other because I realized that I still like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can only imagine what tomorrow will bring...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-116190336408413335?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116190336408413335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=116190336408413335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/116190336408413335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/116190336408413335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-think.html' title='I Think...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7413643481890760946</id><published>2008-02-29T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T17:32:59.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It just keeps changing!</title><content type='html'>So yesterday, after I finished the last post, George sends me a text message asking me if I'm mad, and I tell him maybe,  he tells me he's sorry and that he "wuvs" me.  And after that, I couldn't be mad anymore. (call me a sap, but I felt much better after he apologized)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today,  during chemistry Salad and I are flirting and stuff but of course Kate ruins it all when we are standing right by him.&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  Go beat up your boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  My  boyfriend isn't here right now&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  Not that one.  (points to Salad)&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  You two do know that I can hear you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Salad and I haven't talked since then, not that we haven't had a chance because we did.  We had several, but all we did was stare at each other, both of us too afraid to say anything.  Monday...Monday I'll say something to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day...during lunch...George and I spent half the period flirting.  He bit me, we were hitting each other with Frank's jacket, and we were fighting each other for stuff, so I was in his arms.  And while I was in his arms, I realized how comfortable and warm I was.  Salad isn't warm...he's just soft...George is warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday after school I chose Salad, but today after school I chose George.  And this is only the beginning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh but at least I know now that Salad is not jealous, it was probably all just in our heads...of course I don't know that for sure...yet...Monday...Monday I'll have all the answers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7413643481890760946?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7413643481890760946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7413643481890760946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7413643481890760946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7413643481890760946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-just-keeps-changing.html' title='It just keeps changing!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5044976282505863274</id><published>2008-02-28T14:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T14:38:24.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So De Drama part 3</title><content type='html'>This is the final part in the So De Drama thing.  Everything mentioned in this post, happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Today...wow...seriously...WOW! Really...during 1st period Salad and I had a conversation about how he needs to wear a belt so I don't see his underwear during the next soccer game "Don't look, turn around" he advised "because I never wear belts." Then during gym class I was talking to Frank about the game last night and he said that he and Salad were the best players there, to which I told him that if that was the truth...then that was REALLY sad. So then Frank got into the fetal position on the ground in the gym and we were all pretending to kick him and stuff. My friend Laquan even got up on the bleachers ready to jump on him. Then we all played (Extreme) badminton, me, Greg, Chris and Lara against Salad, Frank, Angie, Laquan and Aaron. But we got in trouble so we had to split up. Angie and I against Frank and Salad...yeah...we had to fix that. We played crush on crush. Me and Frank (Angie's old? crush) vs Salad (sexy) and Angie...and Salad is a birdie hog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay yeah...BORING until art, there was too much heat in the building or something so the fire alarm went off and we all had to go out in the cold. So I was hanging out with my close friends Chloe, Aaron and Tawnee, plus my friend Steph and this girl I know Trisha. IT WAS SO FREAKING COLD! But it was nice in the building when we got inside. Oh and at the end of the period...that girl I just mentioned Trisha? Yeah well she is the school slut and she got beat up right after art class. It was so scary/cool/amazing/surprising...yeah...this girl just came up, tackled her to the ground and started punching her in the back, and I had front row seats...like literally, it happened right in front of me. It turned out Trisha got punched so hard her eye was bleeding, so I think they called an ambulance and the girl that beat her up got caught. Kate and Angie were happy to hear she got beat up and so were most people who hung out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn't all fun and games...these really annoying people in my English class were sort of making fun of me, but I was hanging out with Charly so it didn't really matter, but that sub was SO annoying, and I had her for two periods (English and Journalism) and in between the two classes I couldn't find Salad or Aaron and then after those classes George and I got into a fight...sorta. I think I just got fed up with him, I mean, he's my boyfriend but he ignores me during soccer, doesn't really talk to me during lunch and our other conversations are just...awkward. While with Salad...every Wednesday, he comes up to me to start a conversation, and we could talk for hours. So today I got mad at George, walked away and then met up with Frank (who I swear has a 6th sense when it comes to emotions) and asked me what's wrong. I didn't want to bring it up with him because I knew he would talk to George about it, so I made something up and walked away. Then the minute I got out of school I met up with Angie and I told her "I made my decision*." she asked who it was and I told her, "Salad."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5044976282505863274?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5044976282505863274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5044976282505863274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5044976282505863274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5044976282505863274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-de-drama-part-3.html' title='So De Drama part 3'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1102071471958035244</id><published>2008-02-28T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T14:34:10.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So De Drama part 2</title><content type='html'>Continuing on from where we left off...it is Wednesday, February 27th, around 8 EST (when the fun is taking place).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then that night, I've been going to this thing at Frank's church/old school to play soccer with him, Salad and George (plus others). So last night, I went there and I was talking to this girl, Liz (who is SO FRIGGEN COOL!) and Salad comes over, so the three of us are talking and joking around and stuff and Salad is making fun of me because I laughed when the ball hit George on the back of his head.  We were also explaining to Liz about our chemistry class...with each other.  I told her it was terrible, and Salad just rolls his eyes and says "It's not that bad", so the three of us hang out and talk for a little bit about science and stuff while everybody else is either shooting at the goal or making a basket.  I know, I know...you are probably wondering (if you have read more of my posts) why Salad and I aren't out there either.  The answer is simple...I didn't want to just shoot on goal, I'd rather play a game (and so would Liz) and Salad...I don't know why he was hanging out with us...but George...George practically ignored me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blah blah blah...Frank got rid of the basketball and then the game "started".  Frank and Salad were captains and got to choose players, it was originally Frank, Jorge (and three? other people maybe) against Me, Salad, Liz (and 5 other people) because the people on Frank's team were the best (with the exception of Salad and myself) but by the end of the night there were four people on each side and Salad, Frank, George and I were all killing each other for the ball. It was so cool, Salad and George collided and fell to the ground, so Frank and I helped George up (but then I felt bad for Salad because nobody is helping him up, and when I looked over at him he looked like he wished he were George)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They decided to close early because of the roads, which was why a lot of people left earlier but the rest of us who stayed, were hot and therefore not fazed by the cold weather outside. (we were inside the gym)  But inside we were all sweating, especially Salad and George (who both look great covered in sweat I may add) and Salad even admitted to being tired (I have NEVER EVER heard him say those words) and then later Salad's pants were falling down and you could see his white (with red polka dots) underwear so we went on like that for awhile until I had to go, and when I got home, I practically passed out on my bed after that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1102071471958035244?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1102071471958035244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1102071471958035244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1102071471958035244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1102071471958035244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-de-drama-part-2.html' title='So De Drama part 2'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3568560661152915733</id><published>2008-02-28T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T14:17:05.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So De Drama part 1</title><content type='html'>Mwah ha ha...the past two days have been so interesting but I haven't had a chance to sit and type everything up, but since I had it typed up elsewhere, I'm going to add it here but fix it up a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also splitting it into three parts because the other place I put it on was REALLY long so I want to split it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Two death threats, 1 fight with a friend, 1 HUGE fight, a pair of guy's underwear and 1 of THE MOST AMAZING soccer games EVA since my last post...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That got your attention didn't it? Good because all of that happened this week. Actually...everything listed above happened in two days. And it is SO COOL! (sorta...it's also really sad too. You'll see soon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so it all started yesterday morning. We had a double period of chemistry, and since we just had a test, we were taking notes. Notes are boring by the way. So I had just gotten some of my friends' phone number's and Kate gave me a piece of paper and told me to throw it at Frank, so I did, but I missed and hit Salad instead, but when he tried to get me back, he hit Jasmine. After that our aim improved and we were throwing a crumpled up index card at each other. So that was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't really get interesting again until 7th period math. My bff Will is moving this weekend, he's still going to the school for the rest of this year but everybody in school believes that he won't be back. Anyway, usually I sit next to him during math but that day I decided to sit with my friend Chloe instead. (Now keep in mind that the area I sit in...is all boys) So I get to class early and the teacher steps out, so the guys are giving me a hard time and Will is calling me a traitor so this really FUCKING annoying kid Jeremiah says to everybody who is in the room: "She has two boyfriends" Now that really ticked me off especially since this other guy Evan was egging him on. So I threw my backpack with a SLAM down onto Wren's desk and I threaten to kill Jeremiah and Evan. So Evan (who is WAY bigger than me) doesn't believe me so I start walking towards him and he starts walking back. So everybody else in the classroom (who has been watching intently this whole time) is all excited to see what I'll do, but I give up when my math teacher comes back in. My friend Will is still mad at me, and none of those guys will talk to me now.   Will even called me a traitor several times...it sort of hurts but it's okay...sorta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3568560661152915733?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3568560661152915733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3568560661152915733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3568560661152915733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3568560661152915733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-de-drama-part-1.html' title='So De Drama part 1'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-6254992518787640585</id><published>2008-02-26T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T16:06:24.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Found out</title><content type='html'>So my friends found out that I still like George AND Salad.  It didn't take that much figuring out, really.  All they had to do was know that it was hard to get rid of somebody you've cared about for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they know.  And the advice continues.  *rolls eyes*  Great.  I think I liked it better when none of my friends knew who I liked...unfortunately that was back in early October.  A REAL LONG TIME AGO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...now I know never to tell them I like somebody.  It's common sense...or now it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-6254992518787640585?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6254992518787640585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=6254992518787640585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6254992518787640585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6254992518787640585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/found-out.html' title='Found out'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5407729521370346434</id><published>2008-02-25T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T16:16:37.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Title</title><content type='html'>Confessions of an Authoress in Training (November 1st 2007-November 15th 2007)&lt;br /&gt;Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic (November 16th 2007-February 24th 2007)&lt;br /&gt;Confessions of a New and Improved Girl (February 25th-who knows?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I changed my title again, the old one didn't fit anymore, because as I realized today, I'm not a hopeless romantic.  How could I be if I had a boyfriend, two marriage proposals, and a few other guys that are interested in me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I changed the title to:  Confessions of a New and Improved Girl, because last year at this time, I was depressed.  My friends sucked, I only had interest in guys that didn't like me back and no guys really liked me.  And the sad thing was...there were times when I was happy...or when I was depressed, I thought my life couldn't get any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I was wrong because now, a year later, I have new friends who are GREAT!  Boys are actually interested in me and for once in my life I feel normal.  Who could ask for more?  So the title says it all, I am new and improved, a step up from the old me and I'm not looking to take another step down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5407729521370346434?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5407729521370346434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5407729521370346434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5407729521370346434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5407729521370346434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-title.html' title='New Title'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8060129809883719735</id><published>2008-02-25T14:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T16:00:23.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Made a Choice</title><content type='html'>Okay so after several months, I made a choice.  Well out loud I made a choice, inside I'm still deciding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was awesome if your a girl who likes boys.  If you are George...then it might not be that great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out kinda, sorta slow.  I went to chemistry and we had a lab, but I didn't get to work with Angie, just Kate and a few other people...that haven't really been mentioned in this blog.  Anyway, Kate and I were right near Salad, Frank, Aaron and a few other people we know.  So when Kate came back from the bathroom, she was too late and there were no aprons or goggles left, so as we made our way to the lab table we were starting out.  We had a little chat with Salad, little as in tiny, little chat.  After the 4 minute break, Kate and I went back to the chem lab (after going to get something in between classes) and Kate was being annoying, so I would look bad right in front/right next to Salad and his friend that he was talking to...I don't remember who that was.  But later on in the period I got into a little fight with Salad and Frank. &lt;br /&gt;You see...Frank threw a gum wrapper at Kate, I picked it up and threw it at Frank.  Two seconds (maybe more) later, Salad goes "Psst Aly!"  So I turn around and he throws a gum wrapper at me, so I threw it back at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...let's see after that I didn't really talk to any of my guy friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until between study hall and art.  I walked downstairs, said hi to Salad, and then had a flirty conversation with George.  Then I walked into art class and talked to John for the whole class because I thought I had my project done and John came in my class during lunch to work on his art project.  But we spent 60% of the class talking so my art teacher got upset with us and said that we couldn't sit next to each other anymore.  But while we were talking, John asked me to marry him.  It was just for fun, but it was funny because he had a ring. &lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I told him that I had a boyfriend and he wanted to see him.  So I told him that we'd meet up with him after class, so as we were walking down the hall and he was complaining that we hadn't seen him yet.  Salad appeared on the other side of John just as John really began to complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Salad left and I left John for George because well isn't the answer obvious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blah blah blah I went to math and Will and I were passing notes.  He made me choose between Salad and George and I chose George...out loud.  So we're going to keep any information about Salad in my head and/or on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course after English I left the room and since George is right next door I walked with him to him to his next class (because it was nearby) and just as I was going downstairs to talk to Aaron before I went back upstairs, I met up with Salad and I had a conversation with him...about George.  He thinks it's weird that I'm going out with George...apparently he's happy for me...but it's weird...to him at least.  So when he left the building, I met up with Aaron and I hung out with him until the warning bell rang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah blah blah, sat through another class, after the class I met up with George, we go to my locker, we leave, I meet up with Angie, I talk to her, I leave, I do homework, I type this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End.  Obviously I'm not in a writing mood today, but yeah, I made a choice...on the outisde, my friends now really, truly believe that I am over Salad...let's see how I can keep this charade going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8060129809883719735?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8060129809883719735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8060129809883719735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8060129809883719735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8060129809883719735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-made.html' title='I Made a Choice'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7826209943465258824</id><published>2008-02-23T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T18:47:53.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe Fate Does Rule Us...</title><content type='html'>I know I have this first part on the side right now, but I'm about to change that, especially now that I have it in a post.  But the rest of it is not in the side thing/quote thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, you know the saying "First impressions are everything"?  Well I have proven it false, because if it were true then I would not be friends with Salad or be dating George.  When I met them, I had no interests in pursuing anything with them, not friendship, not a relationship, not anything.  But the funny thing is...even though I was a bitch to both of them...they both tried really hard and won me over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Wren...well last year, Cael and Nate told me all about her.  All I had to do was meet her, but every chance I had was missed.  I had seen her around, but we weren't introduced until the first day of school of this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the point to this silly little post.  Maybe fate does rule over us, maybe I was supposed to be friends with certain people and not others so when I made the mistake of being friends with people I'm not supposed to be friends with, fate has to fix it by getting rid of the problem and introducing the solution.  Maybe there's something inside us that says that we shouldn't always let the first impression of a person rule our overall thoughts about the person, because sometimes the best people are the ones that don't have a good first impression and the worst people...well they could be the ones who impress us at first glance.  Who really knows for sure though?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7826209943465258824?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7826209943465258824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7826209943465258824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7826209943465258824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7826209943465258824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/maybe-fate-does-rule-us.html' title='Maybe Fate Does Rule Us...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4364408900974990228</id><published>2008-02-22T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T18:09:16.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NOW he figures it out!</title><content type='html'>I have liked Salad so much over a long period of time, and sometimes I think Will is right, fate brought us together.  How else would two people who did not get off to a good start, really become great friends?  Sometimes it seems like we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; destined to be together.  But right now I have a problem with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have liked him since about October of 2007.  Or if you really want to get technical here, around March 21st of 2007, I admitted to 3 of my 4 best friends that I liked him (but I truly believed that I didn't), and then in May of 2007, I admitted it to another good friend (again, I really didn't believe it though).  Then not too long before my Spanish regents, I had a dream that he kissed me and after that I realized that I really did like him.  And of course I see him the day of my Spanish regents, so during the test I couldn't stop thinking about him.  But after that I finally got it through my head that I would never see him again, luckily I knew that it was just a silly little crush so I was able to move on.  Then boom, first day of school there he is in my chemistry class and my gym class.  The crush didn't come back yet though, so that was a good sign.  No...it waited until I found out that he hung out in the math wing between 4th and 5th period and talked to him several times before I figured out that "Hey maybe I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; actually like him." and then I stupidly told him, we ignored each other for awhile and then we had this whole on again/off again friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going out with George, he asked me, I said yes.  And now that I'm taken, he finally realized "Hey...I like her." Yeah how annoying is that?  You fall for a guy and then the moment you get another guy, the first guy realizes "Hey I think I like her"  Wow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scary thing is I think George and Salad are jealous of...each other.  Scary no?  But I think it's true (obviously I'm not completely sure because I can't read their minds) because if I talk to Salad, George ignores me, and if I talk to George, Salad ignores me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biggest example:  Wednesday night.  Frank invited me to this thing where I could play soccer with them and some other people.  Some other people included Salad, George and Salad's two best friends "Bee" and "Lyn" (who turned out to be completely awesome by the way) and the whole night Salad talked to me and acknowledged my presence but all I got from George was a hello.  A lousy hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse:  Every time I turn around Salad is there.  It's freaky really.  I keep seeing him and I feel like I know most of his schedule.  I was late to English class once because Will was bugging me and Kate and I were having fun and I walked past Salad's classroom and just as I'm walking past it, out comes Salad.  Scary isn't it?  And want to hear something funny?  When I have English, Frank is right next-door to me, George is also next door to me (but on the other side), Salad is down the hall, Kate is further down the hall and Will and Aaron are right underneath us.  So basically I spend most of my time between 8th and 9th period with them.  But that varies on Salad's behavior and George's behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are my friends on all this?  Laughing their asses off of course!  Chloe hates both Salad and George, because she knows them (sort of) and thinks that they are both completely insane, but is encouraging me because she says that if I have stuff in common with them then they can't be all that bad.  Kate just goes with the flow...Angie I think would rather me with George but Will really wants me with Salad because he still believes that we are destined to be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who knows what I'll do right now.  Both George and Salad aren't making things easy on me, because Salad thinks it's cute that I'm with George and has made it clear, but everybody I've talked to says that he's jealous.  Kate even saw first hand in chemistry class, leaned forward and said "Yeah...Salad is jealous"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now...I just want to know...if they are jealous of each other...because it seems like they are...well, I'll just have to wait for Monday to see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4364408900974990228?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4364408900974990228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4364408900974990228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4364408900974990228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4364408900974990228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-he-figures-it-out.html' title='NOW he figures it out!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-6498988562676951081</id><published>2008-02-22T14:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T15:51:12.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Guess I was wrong</title><content type='html'>I seriously thought that Frank knew that George and I are dating.  Apparently I was wrong he didn't know until Tuesday when George told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was interesting though, I was spending time in between chem classes with Kate and Angie because I knew that if I spent too much time around Salad...well you get the picture.  But Kate and Angie had a different idea.  Angie started poking Kate and told me to poke her too, since I was bored I joined in on the fun, and Kate got up and ran over to the boys.  And then of course we couldn't just ignore them.  Aaron stopped Kate so Kate and I had to yell at him which gave Frank the chance to ask me "Why didn't you tell me?"&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...let's see, my chemistry class is early in the morning, I hadn't been sleeping that well lately and I really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shouldn't&lt;/span&gt; be near those guys especially since Salad is around there.  So my mind was blank when he said that.  "What are you talking about?"  After like...3 minutes I still didn't get it.  Until the bell rang.  He was talking about George.  Oh.  Don't I feel dumb now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank brought it up during lunch too, he was joking though, I don't think he was actually hurt but I'm sure he would have liked to have found out earlier.  Oh well...I'll remember that for next time, but seriously how could he not know?  It was all awkward at first, and we texted all the time.  HOW COULD HE NOT KNOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*  Boys...I'll never understand them and their obliviousness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-6498988562676951081?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6498988562676951081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=6498988562676951081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6498988562676951081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6498988562676951081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-guess-i-was-wrong.html' title='I Guess I was wrong'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2249749834162703347</id><published>2008-02-19T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T13:36:31.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Line</title><content type='html'>The Like Line goes as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaron likes Lara, Lara likes George, I'm dating George, but I still like Salad, Salad likes Chrissy, Chrissy likes some other guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or at least, that's the like line I'm getting.   Actually that's probably only a tiny, itty bitty piece of the like line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't think much of it before and I figured I could get over Salad, and it helped that he wasn't there today and I'm sure Salad is getting over Chrissy (it's been like 2 months!) but I didn't think Lara would make this harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lara had been a friend of mine in elementary school but we weren't able to talk to each other for years, until this year when we were placed in the same chemistry class.  All year she had been showing signs of interest towards George but I didn't think anything of it...probably because I was more interested in Salad and his life.  Of course now that George and I are a couple...yeah...I guess I should have been more alert in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe told me right before our history class that she had to remind George that he had somebody waiting for him back at home (I really wasn't...but whatever).  I didn't think much of it until the middle of the class when I'm like, "Wait...what?"  thankfully, during study hall she gave me the whole story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the long weekend Chloe, Lara, George and some of their friends went on an overnight hiking trip (it was a 4 day long trip I think 2/14/08-2/18/08?  I'm not sure exactly) and apparently Lara spent as much time as she possibly could, flirting with George.  Chloe told me that she had to keep reminding Lara that George and I were going out.  And even so, Lara really didn't believe her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So of course Lara told Rose (who sits with us at lunch) that I was dating George.  So when George and I had sat down to eat lunch, Rose leans in and whispers to me:  "Is it true that you and George are...well...a couple?"  I looked over at him and then back at Rose, I have a feeling I was blushing bright red and I ask her, "Why?"  I don't know why I asked, I mean I knew the whole story but I wanted to see Rose's answer.  It was a really dumb answer "I just heard...stuff." so I answered with an equally dumb...but still truthful answer.  "Maybe...I'm not sure...probably...I guess...yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course George proved to me later on in lunch and at the end of the day that we were a couple.  We did footsies under the lunch table and he walked with me to my locker and out the school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe Tawnee is right, he likes me better than Lane and I am prettier than her.  Apparently I have better fashion than her and well...all around prettier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem?  (Aside from the fact that I still like Salad) George has told me absolutely nothing about the trip, Chloe told me everything.  Although, that could also just mean that he didn't know what was going on but who knows? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Obviously I don't because I wasn't on that trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2249749834162703347?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2249749834162703347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2249749834162703347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2249749834162703347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2249749834162703347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/like-line.html' title='Like Line'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2325962159032982236</id><published>2008-02-19T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T13:02:39.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does this happen?</title><content type='html'>Okay so after every extended weekend or break, when we return to school, people are different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not like mutated different but different as in...distant...I guess.  Yeah distant would describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After every break, when we get back there is always somebody who is somewhat distant.  Last time, Salad was distant.  For the first few days back, he would not talk to me or Kate or any other girl in our chem class.  This break he hasn't been back yet and I doubt he'll do what he did last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time I think it will be Lara.  I'll explain more in the next post because it is this whole long and beautiful story.  But even though she hasn't been back yet I know she'll probably be distant for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even though most people were absent today, there was still this eerie feeling of strangeness floating above me.  I couldn't put my finger on it but it was there.  The question is...Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2325962159032982236?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2325962159032982236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2325962159032982236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2325962159032982236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2325962159032982236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-does-this-happen.html' title='Why does this happen?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3120868066332465760</id><published>2008-02-18T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:59:56.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Bad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;    This is bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't decide between Salad and George.  I care about them equally, I'm in a relationship with George and I smile every time he sends me a text message.  I smile a cute, girly, smile.  One that would make the old me...sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's still Salad.  Many many thoughts have run through my head on this..."Is he taking an interest in me now?"  "We fight way too much" "Why do I still like him?"  Oh but this has got to be the biggest, most important one, "How come Kate can hit Salad and yell at him, but he gets upset with me when I do that to him?"  Yeah...and not to mention because of that, I keep thinking about him even when I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;so far this weekend, whenever I fall asleep, I start dreaming about Salad and George. With Salad it's how we usually are, we fight and argue then innocently flirt and become friends again. Then with George it's...well our friendship/relationship. It's all a very weird thing, and I've been spending my mornings trying to understand my dreams...I'll tell you when I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry for the different font, I copied the "Dream On" on the side and it was a different font so I had to make it all match)&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/8308197773008875686-3120868066332465760?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3120868066332465760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3120868066332465760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3120868066332465760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3120868066332465760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-is-bad.html' title='This is Bad'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5439876081642537754</id><published>2008-02-18T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:17:18.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend with Anna</title><content type='html'>Never Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never Again will I spend 5 of my free days with Anna, I love her to death but I swear she was starting to make me go crazy today.  Although it was going that way from the start, here's what she did that really bothered me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  She snores!  Yup yup it's true, she slept over my house and forgot her nasal thing so I had trouble sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;2)  She was afraid of a store.  We went shopping today and she wanted to stop into Hot Topic to get something, but she stood outside the store for a moment and said she was afraid to go in.  I had to push her in, otherwise we would have stood outside the store for a LONG time.&lt;br /&gt;3)  Her mom wants her in as many AP classes as possible.  Yeah...apparently she is THAT smart, even though she has a ton of trouble in history but she can still take an AP course.&lt;br /&gt;4)  She's kind of boring.  Not to be mean or anything but sometimes when I want to do something fun, she just...doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it doesn't seem like a lot, but to me...it is, especially for my best friend.  It's probably a good thing that we won't be seeing each other until May.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5439876081642537754?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5439876081642537754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5439876081642537754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5439876081642537754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5439876081642537754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/weekend-with-anna.html' title='A Weekend with Anna'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2545655620823817366</id><published>2008-02-17T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T19:13:53.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Couple?</title><content type='html'>On 2/7/08, I asked George out, and we became somewhat of a couple.&lt;br /&gt;On 2/12/08, George asked me out, and we really became a couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his myspace now, George now lists his status thing as "In a Relationship" and his friends are "making an attempt" at accepting me...I think.  I don't know exactly but they have tried striking up conversation with me a few times...some of them, I talk to Frank, Aaron and Salad...but not some of this other friends...actually...I hate most of his other friends...that's okay though because most of my friends don't like him or his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.  I'm glad we're a couple though...but Frank...makes it...I don't know...weird?  I was worried that he wouldn't like the idea of two of his friends going out together.  In reality though, he doesn't mind and likes to joke about it.  Like on Tuesday for example, during lunch it was just the three of us and I was falling off my seat (because of George) and he caught me.  So of course Frank had to comment and say "You fell into his arms" at which one of us said something stupid so he had to say "Yeah but she fell...into your arms.  How sweet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately we didn't do anything for Valentine's day though.  George is actually on a hiking trip and doesn't get back until tonight or tomorrow, he sent me a message on Valentine's day saying that he was going on the trip, he would miss me and that I should have a good weekend.  I'm hoping he's back so maybe we could spend a little bit of time together tomorrow but that's not how it's going to work out.  Oh well.  He spent the weekend hiking and I spent the weekend with my best friend Anna.  We both spent it doing something we loved, we can pencil each other in later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2545655620823817366?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2545655620823817366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2545655620823817366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2545655620823817366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2545655620823817366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/couple.html' title='A Couple?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7658058853754373920</id><published>2008-02-17T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T19:02:14.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rubber Band!!!</title><content type='html'>This happed on Tuesday 2/12/08.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry class...we had a test and then a lab.  In between classes I hung out with Aaron and Salad since Angie, Frank and Kate were still taking the test.  So...yeah...it was interesting.  Salad has a dancing chicken on his mp3 player!  In the lab period, we were using rubber bands and since Salad, Aaron and Frank are very, very childish...they were shooting rubber bands at people.  They missed me this time!  But they got Kate...which is worse...much worse.  So once again, there was an argument between those guys and us girls.  But of course Salad...makes things harder.  He let Kate hit him and yell at him but he gets upset when I do either of those.  So I made a vow that the next time he gets upset with me because I yelled at him or something, I'll bring that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not the important thing, the important thing is that I picked up a rubber band before the period ended and I was playing with it as I was walking down to homeroom.  And I was walking downstairs next to Salad (we were walking down together) with Kat and Karl in front of us.  And neither Salad nor myself like Kat so I was pretending that I was going to shoot the rubber band at Kat, then Salad leaned over...&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  You should do it...I dare you to...I would.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Then go right ahead (hands the rubber band to Salad)&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  (aims and hits Kat in the leg)  Damn she didn't feel it.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  (picks up the rubber band)  She's a robot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I kept the rubber band, but I was stupid and took it out during lunch.  And George and I were playing with it.  We were shooting it at each other, stretching it out as far as it could go and we were stuck together because of the rubber band (it was like we were cuffed together) and then it snapped.  We were still playing with it after it snapped though, because it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told all of this to Will, who found it somewhat amusing, but he thought that I shouldn't have let both of them play with it because I liked both of them, I couldn't choose between both of them and it should have only been one of theirs...I don't remember what he said okay!  But he was surprised that I let George play with it after Salad touched it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7658058853754373920?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7658058853754373920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7658058853754373920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7658058853754373920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7658058853754373920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/rubber-band.html' title='Rubber Band!!!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5073432313003651978</id><published>2008-02-17T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T18:44:37.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day in a New School (part 3)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Last part I swear!  I wanted to get this out of the way before I did anything else!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so after Health came lunch, all through health, I was craving nachos and guess what?  They just so happened to be serving nachos then and there.  I chose the right day to come.  So as I waited on line, I was talking to Dylan, who was cool...he reminded me of Will.  He asked me about my hometown and warned me about Clara (somebody else warned be about her too so when he warned be I was beginning to get nervous) but Clara turned out to be...okay.  She didn't really bother me like I thought she would and Dylan turned out to be the one who annoyed everybody, so when Caitlyn told me I could ignore him if he got too annoying, I said that I met more annoying people.  Which is true...so Dylan didn't bother me much at all.  But as I met her friends...I realized how extremely cool they were!  They loved chick lit and fantasy books like I did, one of them wants to be a writer too, and well...I liked hanging out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want lunch to end because when it did, I had to go to biology.  Luckily the teacher wasn't there and we had a young, and good looking male sub.  Unluckily we had to watch a movie.  Luckily the sub made jokes through the whole thing, Unluckily we had a double period of this movie, luckily Anna and I got to eat in the classroom, unluckily...we couldn't really talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the day ended with History.  My best subject and Anna's worst subject.  I had spent an hour the night before quizzing Anna on the sections she had to know and we used the memory devices to study for the rest of the day.  Of course when they were going over the test in class...Anna didn't do so well.  Try...55% out of a possible 100%.  Yeah not so good.  So after class we went up to her teacher, Anna asked for extra credit or something because obviously she didn't do well in this class.  And I asked for a copy of the test so I could study for my History quiz on Tuesday.  Anna explained that I was a history geek and helped her study and her history teacher looked at me and asked how we were friends if I loved history and hated science and she loved science and hated history.  It was kind of funny, until the car ride home when we had to explain to her mom that she didn't do so well on the Global test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my day in a new school was okay...I wouldn't move there or go to that school...EVER.  But it was a good experience.  I had a pretty good day for a school day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5073432313003651978?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5073432313003651978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5073432313003651978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5073432313003651978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5073432313003651978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-in-new-school-part-3.html' title='A Day in a New School (part 3)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4376790848600203841</id><published>2008-02-17T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T18:31:22.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day in a New School (part 2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This happened on 2/14/08&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driven to school by Anna's parents, really early in the morning.  Apparently the school is about 1 trillion miles from any other form of civilization, so unlike my school where people can easily walk from home to school to any other place, people who go to Anna's school can't do that, they have to either take the bus or get a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got a visitors pass and I followed Anna to her Spanish class which is also her homeroom.  I met and had a nice conversation with her Spanish teacher who is extremely nice and a great person to talk to.  Anna took me out of the classroom and re-introduced me to Jen who used to be one of my best friends in elementary school.  We said a quick hello but that was really all we were able to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blah blah blah, we went back to Spanish, I sat through the announcements and while they were working on a Spanish project I decided to do the same.  I took out a piece of paper and started writing an ad about Salad (they had to do an ad about a person trying to find a friend) and I got really far, which probably had something to do with the fact that I had already taken the class and passed the regents about a year ago.  At least I got candy and a valentine from Anna (she was so sweet ^_^)  but I also learned that there was this other girl in her class named Anna, who is kind of like Kat is in my school, she kept glaring at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next was English, her English teacher looked like she was on drugs, she asked Anna to introduce me, which she did...not that people really cared, but oh well.  I didn't do much in that class, they were reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Night&lt;/span&gt; by Elie Wiesel so I picked up a book and just started reading it, I got about 1/4 of the way through it by the time the period ended.  Anna and her friend Tori were surprised, but when you have 40 minutes of free time and it is extremely quiet a book is always nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that was math, it was so cool!  They used laptops and I understood the lesson and the homework!  Which is sort of funny because I am having trouble understanding what we're learning but I already learned what she's learning so it's really easy!  Her math teacher was nice, I had a short conversation with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After math was art, I met Anna's two friends Caitlyn and Mel and I talked to the three of them all period while they were working on their clay projects.  I even played around with the clay a little bit and made an alien bunny.  It looked so cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came Health, the class was extremely immature but I was having some kind of fun.  They had to make a list of things to do to keep from getting sick.  I think I gave Anna a really good one!  "Don't Lick Doorknobs"  which was really funny...until Anna and Tay informed me that there are people in their school who would...lick doorknobs.  Ew!  But Health turned out to be cool because even though it dragged on forever, I had a conversation with Tay about anime (it turns out she loves anime just like my friends do) so she gave me the link to a website where I could download episodes of Lucky Star and other animes.  Cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4376790848600203841?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4376790848600203841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4376790848600203841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4376790848600203841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4376790848600203841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-in-new-school-part-2.html' title='A Day in a New School (part 2)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-900938656323216671</id><published>2008-02-17T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T18:12:57.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day in a New School (part 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is just a quick overview of some things.  Next post has more details&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    So the day before Valentine's day, I went to my bff Anna' house around 2:00 because the following day she had school and I didn't, so we had made plans for me to visit her school for the day.  Which I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start by saying this, my plan was to scope out cute guys (that was my plan since summer vacation when we first came up with the idea), to see two old "friends" who moved away during elementary school, and to see if her school is anything like mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was disappointed.  Almost everybody in Anna's school is a jerk, they do not talk to you unless you talk to them first...and none of the guys there are cute at all!  (I know that sounds shallow but ugly and jerk-like is obviously not a very good combination)  Her Spanish teacher was great though, so was her math teacher (he had laptops for his class!) but her English teacher reminded me of my English teacher last year...on drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only saw 1 of the 2 girls that I used to be friends with in Elementary school.  Jen.  Apparently she's a boyfriend whore now, not only that but she's somewhat jerk-like too.  The other girl I didn't get a chance to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her schedule was confusing too, it was homeroom, period 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, Lunch 2, 6, 7 and 8 while for us it is period 1, 2, homeroom, period 3, 4, 5, 6 (which is when I have lunch), 7, 8, 9.  So it was a little weird for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her friends were great though!  They were so much like my friends it was scary, I mean really, really scary.  I can't wait to tell my friends about them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's a quick overview, I'm going to add more (in two parts before and during/after lunch) just because it's easier to read like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-900938656323216671?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/900938656323216671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=900938656323216671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/900938656323216671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/900938656323216671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-in-new-school-part-1.html' title='A Day in a New School (part 1)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2003989021988439636</id><published>2008-02-11T13:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T14:06:15.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys and Frenemies</title><content type='html'>Okay so there is this girl: Kat. She's okay I guess. Sometimes I hate her sometimes I don't. Like Friday for example I told her I hated her and she said I was nothing to her, but today we had a civil conversation about school as if nothing had happened on Friday. Interesting huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not all! &lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad&lt;/u&gt; is &lt;i&gt;jealous.&lt;/i&gt; (That sounds so good to say) Because I go down to meet him between 4th and 5th period so we can talk and apparently when I thought he had math (he was down in the math wing) he actually has cooking (which is in a different wing) and when I asked what he was doing in this wing, he answers by saying "Oh I come here to see if this teacher is here" but the funny thing is...that teacher is never there and according to Frank...Salad doesn't even take math this year.  But Salad promised that he would make me some food in cooking class...I doubt he meant it but it would be cool if he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of Frank...he hit me today.  But that's okay because I kicked him and it hurt more for him because he and George are doing crew so their legs hurt.  It's actually a lot of fun because they can't run or anything, they are too sore.  Except right after lunch (we were the last people out) I kicked them (lightly) and they were hurting so bad they couldn't do anything...until we got close to my locker when George tickled me where I am most ticklish and I wasn't paying attention so I bumped into Salad before hitting my locker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah...that's what happened to me today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2003989021988439636?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2003989021988439636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2003989021988439636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2003989021988439636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2003989021988439636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/boys-and-frenemies.html' title='Boys and Frenemies'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8618837863405737417</id><published>2008-02-10T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T12:34:35.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Ruining Frank's Life</title><content type='html'>I didn't notice this until yesterday but I think...I might just be ruining Frank's life!  Because all year I have liked one of his good friends and now, I'm going to be going out with another one of his good friends.  Which is leading me to thinking...why the hell did he let me sit with him during lunch and why did he invite me to play soccer with Salad, George and himself.  What is he?  Fucking crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the problem hasn't completely formed yet...but give it about a month and there will be a HUGE problem.  And it will be guys against girls...or Frank, Aaron, Salad and George against Angie, Kate, Lane and myself...wait that's how it is often.  But anyway onto the real problemo here:  I like George and he's great but...I still like Salad.  I mean REALLY like Salad, which is okay I guess, but I wouldn't have if Angie hadn't brought him up during study hall when she said "well maybe by seeing George, Salad will realize what he's been missing out on"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now...I really want that, but I was told to be careful when George and I "Break up" because according to Chloe he can be annoying or something.  Not only that, but it will be even more awkward than it was a few days ago during lunch...I probably wouldn't be able to sit there anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And poor Frank...he'd be in the middle of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it would be worse if I broke up with George to be with Salad...because Salad, George and Frank are all friends and spend Wednesday nights together.  And they do talk sometimes (which has been really bothering me lately) so not only would I feel like a whore...I think I'd probably lose a few friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so it's not just Frank's life I'm ruining...I'm sort of ruining mine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This year is WAY too dramatic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8618837863405737417?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8618837863405737417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8618837863405737417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8618837863405737417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8618837863405737417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-am-ruining-franks-life.html' title='I Am Ruining Frank&apos;s Life'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4027028607145640285</id><published>2008-02-10T11:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T11:58:12.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At Least They Agree on Something Right?</title><content type='html'>My friends Chloe and Will can't agree on anything...or they probably can, but they really don't like each other.  I don't know why...but they don't.  All I know is that Chloe thinks Will is gross and Will...I don't even want to know what he thinks at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in my last post I mentioned that I was "seeing" George...or that I have a date for Valentines day.  Will and Chloe HATE George...which is okay because he doesn't like them either.  But the reason they hate George and George hates them belongs in one person.  No that person is not me...THANK GOD. (it seems like a lot of pressure)  You see there's this girl "Vicky" that George and Will both dated, and Chloe is friends with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the story goes:  Vicky and George were dating, they had sex, he broke up with her.  Then later, she goes out with Will...I'm sure they've had sex...and then they break up.  And finally she and Chloe are just good friends...I don't know when that started but it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I told Chloe and Will...needless to say they were...actually I don't know what they were.  I don't think they were all that surprised but they weren't exactly very happy.  I think they saw it coming but I don't know for sure.  But right now they are definitely having fun bothering me about it.  Whenever I don't want them to do something, they pretend to look offended and then say, "I bet you would let George to that..."  for example, yesterday while at a college for a competition, Chloe tried offering me some of her food, at first I said "No" and then she said "I bet you would let George feed you."  It gets really annoying you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That and then the two of them have warned me, at least once each about him and how I should be careful...I mean even though Will whole heartedly believes that I need to get laid, he does not want George to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...I should be happy that the two of them agree on something for once...even if that something is hating my date.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4027028607145640285?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4027028607145640285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4027028607145640285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4027028607145640285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4027028607145640285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/at-least-they-agree-on-something-right.html' title='At Least They Agree on Something Right?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-886909237962368843</id><published>2008-02-07T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:50:13.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Okay so Salad...yeah he's still cool but I like somebody else now.  Guess who!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you said Frank...your wrong.  If you said Aaron...your wrong.  If you said Will...your wrong.  And if you said Cael, Nate, John, or Chris...what are you high or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all George.  We have been texting each other all day long and I hated being away from the phone because I kept waiting for him to text.  Sad isn't it?  So he asked what I was doing for Valentine's day, I told him I was visiting Anna but I said that after Valentine's day we could go catch a movie or something and he said YES!  SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to call my friends right now...Anna's out of school, so are Angie and Kara but I don't know their number.  So I have to call Anna and Terri right away, but since I don't know when Terri get's out of school, I'll wait until like 4...ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy!  :)  I have a date for Valentine's day and a boy!  I'm so happy!  We're sending xo's over text message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-886909237962368843?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/886909237962368843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=886909237962368843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/886909237962368843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/886909237962368843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/omg.html' title='OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7834784234905151729</id><published>2008-02-06T16:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T16:45:30.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Should Have Known How It Would End</title><content type='html'>I guess I should have known from about 7:30 a.m that this day was going to suck.  But I didn't think about what kind of day I was going to have, I just knew that I wanted to play soccer today with Frank, George and Salad at some Youth Group, which was keeping me excited all week because it was the first time my new group of friends have invited me to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously that is not what happened, in fact the whole day was not what I expected.  I woke up at my normal time, took a shower, but took way too long to eat breakfast so I had to rush to brush my teeth, brush my hair and dry it, needless to say I didn't completely dry my hair out, so it was wet when I got to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course when I got to school, we have to swipe i.d cards in so the system knows that we actually attend the school and aren't skipping classes.  Of course the person in front of me skipped a class so the sound went off and I almost got in trouble because they thought that the sound went off for me.  Unluckily for me Aaron and Ralphie saw and made a point of saying that I was a rule breaker.  So I got to Chemistry class, listened as my teacher droned on and on about stuff I really didn't hear and then when I did a lab, Frank/Salad/Aaron hit me with a little red cap that they were trying to shoot at somebody else who was ironically REALLY close to them, but they still hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we had a practice Regents exam in Global class and when I went to lunch expecting to have my already hectic day lightened by George, I learned he wasn't there today so lunch was boring and I'm really slow with texting so when I was texting him it took forever because I rarely ever texted before.  And when I was in Journalism, Nate was there.  Nate left but he visited for the day for some odd reason and while he was in my class...I was gone...I didn't exist.  Then I had to go to a Science Olympiad meeting where Nate finally acknowledged my presence...as well as his really annoying guy friends who if I could...I would kill.  And Cael was there too, looking as lost as ever.  That's where I found out that my partner and ex-best friend Rayna, dropped out of Science Olympiad (which is surprising because she loves Science and Science Olympiad) and that I was only in 1 event...not two, so I had to sign up for a whole other event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention that 68 I got on that Chem test and the fact that I didn't finish the lab for today made my parents decide that I couldn't go to the thing to play soccer.  They also wouldn't let me go because they didn't know where the place was (even though I told them), and I don't think they trusted me.  When I first brought it up with my dad the only thing he told me was "Remember....abstinence."  I think he only brought that up because the guys I hang out with now are about 2 years older than me.  Of course, they didn't tell me I wasn't going until 6:30 and the thing would have started at 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have no outlet for my anger, I was really looking forward to kicking the shit out of a soccer ball but obviously that won't be happening now will it?  And blogs don't do the same things a soccer ball can do, blogs aren't as therapeutic.  And since I can't even stay on the computer much longer, I feel like I can't do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess I should have known this already, I mean after that first thing in school, I did say "This day is going to suck" and it does.  So now I'll have to explain to Frank why I couldn't go even after I told him I would be going.  That'll be fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7834784234905151729?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7834784234905151729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7834784234905151729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7834784234905151729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7834784234905151729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-should-have-known-how-it-would-end.html' title='I Should Have Known How It Would End'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-345073891588947238</id><published>2008-02-06T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T16:25:55.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Guys...</title><content type='html'>I know I've been talking a lot about guys lately but that's all that has really been consuming my life lately.  I've been really lazy about my homework because I always seem to have something going on with a guy.  Whether it be a fight, some fun, or just flirting...there's always something and it just keeps distracting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it doesn't help to try to ignore them because even when I do try to ignore them, they get all upset or they do something that makes them really hard to ignore.  Like shoot a little red cap at my head, it wasn't meant for me but it got me over there.  And because of that Salad and I had a nice little argument that ended when Kate said we "bicker like an old married couple" and then Frank started mocking us.  Yeah that took all the fun out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George was absent today so lunch was boring, but we texted each other the whole day long.  We'd still be texting if my phone hadn't run out of battery power while I was walking to my brother's school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaron, Will and Frank were as they always were, fun but at the same time COMPLETELY annoying.  Always bugging me about something, and for Will and Aaron, that something is Salad.  ALWAYS Salad.  For Frank it's always something different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-345073891588947238?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/345073891588947238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=345073891588947238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/345073891588947238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/345073891588947238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-guys.html' title='My Guys...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5879118380949059215</id><published>2008-02-04T15:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T16:20:40.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GAH BOYS!</title><content type='html'>Yet another post about how annoying boys are.  It must be the guys I know or something because it doesn't seem to be all guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started in Chemistry class today, Salad asked what I got in Chemistry and I was mad about something so I said "None of Your Business" and apparently he thought I yelled at him.  So he thought I was mad at him and was asking me after class what I did to get so mad at him.  I told him I was PMSing (not true but he doesn't have to know that) and we haven't talked since...not that we have much time after that to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then during lunch I found out that the new kid "Jai" likes me, a lot.  He gave me something and signed it my admirer.  He's a sweet guy but I really don't want to go out with him...or Chris...or Will...and at the moment not Salad either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also during lunch Frank and George invited me to the Youth Group that the two of them and Salad go to on Wednesday's to play soccer.  How can I turn down soccer?  I got permission from my parents...sort of...I just need to find out all the information.  So that's good, I figure I'll tell Frank before we leave chem, just so I can see the look on Salad's face when he hears it.  So that was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During math class...Will....GAH!  Oh my god he bugged me!  He said that Wren needed to get laid and got me to agree with him, so Kate doesn't believe me when I say that I didn't agree with him.  She's not mad or anything, she just doesn't approve of the idea.  Will also said that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; needed to get laid and that if I needed any help in making it special, he and his girlfriend were the perfect people to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my "friend" Ralphie.  He was the one egging Jai on, he said over and over again that Jai and I would make a cute couple, and he called me whore all through the lunch period.  He didn't really, truly mean it.  It was really just to bug me...which it did, by the end of the day I wanted to smack him harder than I've ever smacked Frank or George.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see boys...at least the ones that I know...ARE EVIL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5879118380949059215?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5879118380949059215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5879118380949059215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5879118380949059215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5879118380949059215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/gah-boys.html' title='GAH BOYS!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5281259879740538867</id><published>2008-02-03T14:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T18:09:55.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Goodness For Anna!</title><content type='html'>So right now I'm in love with my bff Anna, because if it weren't for her then I would be in a bad mood right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see my friend Chris is a weirdo and he likes me, I'm pretty sure that is obvious to everybody, so there are times in gym class when he follows me everywhere or will have long talks with me and my other friends have to come over and drag me away because I don't know how to say "GET LOST" to his face.  So anyway, he called today.  Actually his dad called my dad and then the phone was switched to us, he asked if I wanted to come to this thing and because it was on the 15th and 16th and on the 16th Anna will be here so there is no way I'd be able to go.  Thank goodness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even better because if I was able to go I'd have to be interviewed, there would be permission slips, yadda yadda yadda.  And I talked to Terri and she agrees that I shouldn't have gone, but she thought that I should have told him to his face to (in her words)  "Get Lost"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5281259879740538867?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5281259879740538867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5281259879740538867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5281259879740538867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5281259879740538867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/thank-goodness-for-anna.html' title='Thank Goodness For Anna!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4982987670583158790</id><published>2008-02-03T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T14:46:11.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Angie and Our Boys...</title><content type='html'>So if you haven't figured out the fact that Angie and I love boys then you must be either stupid, or not reading the blog the right way...or at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you haven't figured out that I have boy trouble then you have not read any other entries.  You see, before this year I have liked about 5 boys at a time, wanting to have short relationships with all of them...yeah basically I was kind of slut like.  I had four previous relationships, one when I was 11 (it lasted a month but we barely spoke and he decided to break up with me.), another when I was 12 (that one lasted 2 or 3 days, this time I broke up with the guy, he was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; romantic.), the third relationship was when I was 13, (it lasted 2 hours, but I broke up with him because I would rather us just be friends), and the last one was a few months later (a two week, talk every day relationship that ended mutually).  Last year, I liked several boys but wanted little from them and didn't really try for anything.  This year...well...Salad is all I really need to say.  Sure there were a few other boys I was interested in but Salad was the only one I showed any real interest in, and when I say interest, I mean more interest than I have ever showed for any other guy, and a much longer interest too, I've never liked anybody this long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the problem? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him that I liked him back in October, then for almost a month, we didn't talk.  When we started talking again, he told me that he was liked two girls.  Then he ended up going out with a girl named Chrissy, about a week later, he told me that she broke up with him because he was too in love with her and too in love with his ex girlfriend.  For over a month, Salad was heartbroken, and I felt so terrible for him because he really liked her, and he even told her that, but apparently she just ignored him.  Then Frank told me that Salad and Chrissy broke up mutually, but that she did tell him he was too in love with his ex girlfriend.  I was mad but I didn't say anything to anybody except Angie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now though, neither of us are talking, we both ignore each other whenever possible, in a week of school, I spoke about 26 words to the guy and he spoke about 20 words to me.  So I'm beginning to wonder if Aaron, George, Will or Frank said anything to him about me still liking him.  (I know it is a sad thing to think but it makes sense)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Angie...I don't know much about her past with guys but I do know that this year one of the guys she has been crushing on is John (aka bancurra).  It started out as an innocent crush with a lot of flirtation (like she had her arms around his waist once) but then for awhile she decided that she didn't like him like that anymore.  Then when we get back to school in January of 2008, she tells me to find out if he has a girlfriend, which I find out he doesn't, and then a few days later, she asks him out.  He tells her the next day that he can't date anybody because then his grades will decline like it did for his girlfriend last year.  She says okay and then drowns her sorrows in loud rock music.  Then on Friday in gym class John and I were joking around and he said that he would get his girlfriend (also named Chrissy) to beat me up.  I paused...girlfriend?  What the heck?  I told Angie and she said that she hoped he was just joking around because that would really suck if he told her a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from those two boys, Angie and I have other guys in our lives, like Frank, Aaron, George, Will, Chris...and a lot of other guys.  They all know each other because our school isn't that big but they don't all get along, but they make attempts to.  But some of them (not all of them, some of them) also make attempts to hit on us and ask us out, you know stuff like that.  Things that most girls would love but Angie and I...we don't like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4982987670583158790?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4982987670583158790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4982987670583158790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4982987670583158790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4982987670583158790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/me-angie-and-our-boys.html' title='Me, Angie and Our Boys...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8167549028998401100</id><published>2008-02-03T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T14:12:44.112-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I haven't been Interested</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've been disinterested in typing up an update in my life every day.  I've been lazy, I'm sorry but every time I try I get bored and I want to do something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of Sad I know, I'm sorry, I'm going to get right back to it after this boring post about why I haven't been posting.  The next few posts will be really long I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8167549028998401100?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8167549028998401100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8167549028998401100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8167549028998401100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8167549028998401100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-havent-been-interested.html' title='I haven&apos;t been Interested'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1830333151757931110</id><published>2008-01-31T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T16:21:04.672-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Take it Anymore...</title><content type='html'>Lately it's seemed like Salad is acting a little bit like Cael was back in September.  I'm kind of upset because I still really like Salad and I am having trouble getting over him...I STILL DON'T KNOW WHY I LIKE HIM!  And it's driving me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that Salad seems to be ignoring me.  The last time we talked (before today) was Monday.  I pretty much had to force a conversation out of him.  I'm starting to wonder who spilled the beans, Frank, George or Aaron...or did I?  Did I make it so obvious that I like him?  Great because if I did...that really sucks because he seems to be ignoring me and it's reminding me of Cael.  I really hate it when people all of the sudden just stop talking to me without any explanation and I think I would cry if Salad stopped talking to me again because I'm still interested in him and I think I will have trouble stopping my crush on him.  It's really bothering me now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1830333151757931110?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1830333151757931110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1830333151757931110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1830333151757931110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1830333151757931110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-cant-take-it-anymore.html' title='I Can&apos;t Take it Anymore...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5662856626445813839</id><published>2008-01-29T15:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T13:49:55.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubbly</title><content type='html'>Bubbly...kinda like the song by Colbie Caillat except different.  Because you see I've sorta kinda been out of it, I was in Dreamland and I thought that I was spiraling back into depression.  Of course depression cannot defeat my friends!  It actually loses pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course in English class, none of my friends are there, it has a ton of people that I don't like, and worst of all, now we are reading "The Bell Jar" which is...ironically, about depression.  So in English class we had a nice long talk about depression, I was seriously waiting for somebody to look over at me and say, "Hey you fit the description.  Do you have depression?"  to which I would answer truthfully by saying, "Not anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you see I have great friends now, who hate to see me upset, and vise versa, I hate seeing them upset.  At least now people really care about my feelings and my life.  That's good, so I'm happy now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5662856626445813839?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5662856626445813839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5662856626445813839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5662856626445813839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5662856626445813839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/bubbly.html' title='Bubbly'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-6755657683476242591</id><published>2008-01-28T19:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:14:47.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I?</title><content type='html'>So I mentioned in the last post that there was this new kid at lunch.  He's in my grade but he has a ton of the same interests as Frank and George, plus he's following in Aaron's footsteps so he not only hangs out with Frank and George, but Will and Angie too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was cool, he was asking about me, like what I liked and stuff and then he said, "I'm trying to figure out what you like because I can't figure out what kind of person you are" or something like that, and then Frank and George pause for a millisecond and then realize "Hey we don't know anything about her either."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they bring that up, I don't know what to say...I'm not the kind of person somebody could easily classify.  I listen to different kinds of music, I don't have a defined style, I have a diverse group of friends...although some may say that all my friends are just geeks...which they all very well may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just answered, "I'm a mystery to everybody...even myself" because I sort of am...I know what I like and it fits into different labels but I'm not going to blurt everything I like, hate, want and fear to people.  I learned the hard way that the more you open up to people, the harder it is to say good-bye.  And in my case, good-bye always comes sooner than I want it to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-6755657683476242591?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6755657683476242591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=6755657683476242591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6755657683476242591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6755657683476242591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1788145990115123642</id><published>2008-01-28T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:07:41.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy Trouble</title><content type='html'>First day back from a 9 day break and I already have boy trouble!  Isn't that just my luck?  And it isn't all "trouble" it's more like..."How can I stand to hang out with the boys I hang out with?"  It's not that they are bad...it's more like they are extremely fucking annoying and they are all completely different!  Seriously...DIFFERENT!  Like if all of my guy friends got together...yeah, that just won't work out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started in gym class this morning, I gave Aaron and Laquan a hug and they sandwiched me.  Laquan also let me and Angie ride on his back...actually he begged us and we were forced into it.  And since soccer is finished, the transition between the new sport we'll be playing and soccer was to play mat ball.  I hate mat ball...okay...I STRONGLY dislike mat ball.  I feel terrible if I'm not playing but I really don't like playing.  But it was okay, Angie, Kate, Lara, Aaron, and I watched as Frank, Salad, and Chris played...on the same team unfortunately.  And when Aaron and I decided to play a little bit...I real little bit, I mean like half of one inning, and we were outfield, we really didn't do much.  On the way back to the wall though, Chris stopped me and told me that he got DDR for the Wii and that I should come over sometime.  Then at the wall Kate joked around that John was the kid Salad and I had together.  Thankfully Salad wasn't around to hear, and John...he probably forgot already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the fun doesn't stop there!  During lunch there was a new guy, he was cool...I still don't know his name but he made Frank and George's brain work.  I'll explain in another post, I promise.  Then the next time I saw them, Will had just gotten me in my ticklish spot and because I playfully hit them, Frank and George turned around and got me several times in the same area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Will, during math class (which I found out I passed my math regents with an 89!   I did better than Wren!  And I barely studied!) we played truth or dare...actually he played really, and he dared me to ask Salad out.  My alternative?  Kiss Salad.  Sounds easy right?  I mean, he doesn't have to say yes I just have to say those words...but those are the words I'll never say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Salad (like my transitions between people?)  because it's a whole new semester, our schedules are a little different, and we had homeroom first instead of 1st period.  So needless to say that when Kate, Angie and I got to chemistry, I was surprised to see that Salad was already there and sitting down...he's usually late.  Eh...we really only looked at each other, we barely talked in gym...actually we didn't talk in gym...we usually don't unless we're playing soccer or something.  And then...um....oh the next time we saw each other was between study hall and art, he said hi, I said hi...really low because my day was really sucking.  And hey, it usually didn't matter, I mean we go through this often.  But of course when I was walking halfway across the school to meet up with Kate and Angie, and sort of see Salad, then turn around and walk back to where I just was...we were walking right past Salad, past him as in, I sort of half turned to pass him otherwise I would have bumped right into him.  But instead of just doing what we usually do, he stopped me in the hallway, held his rolled up schedule (at least I think it was his schedule) up to my chest and says, "You didn't talk to me earlier." and I answered, "Yes I did, I said hi you just didn't hear me." and thus there was a small, tiny, itty bitty conversation there.  I think he thinks I'm mad at him or something...actually he would be correct, I am sort of mad at him.  So I figured that would be the last I saw of him, no more Salad, that's how it always is.  But no, I go down to my locker to get the book I need to hand in for English class, he's on the staircase not to far in front of me.  Maybe Will is right...maybe God is trying to say that we're supposed to go out...but if we did, one of us would end up getting hurt sooner or later because if I stand in front of a mirror and ask myself "Forever?" I cannot truthfully say "Forever" back...about anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1788145990115123642?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1788145990115123642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1788145990115123642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1788145990115123642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1788145990115123642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/boy-trouble.html' title='Boy Trouble'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4208195327569309879</id><published>2008-01-27T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T19:33:10.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>School's In Session</title><content type='html'>*GROAN*  That will be the first sound I make when I try to wake up tomorrow morning, for my first day of school in about 9 days.  I am going to go crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot so many things today because I had completely forgotten that I had to do them, I was so used to staying home...and I this wasn't even a long break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, tomorrow is back to school and I'm looking forward to it...but at the same time...I really don't want to go back.  I don't feel up to going to school...I'm not sick...well not physically sick but I feel like I'm going sick mentally.  Nothing seems to be going right for me you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel terrible.  I used to have 4 best friends, and two of them completely ignore me, 1 of them ignores me but will say "hi" and "how are you" to make up for the fact that she decided not to sit next to me anymore during English class, and the one person who seemed to really and truly care about me...he's gone...he moved away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the people I'm friends with now...I'm afraid that our friendship won't last much longer...I'm afraid that one day Kate will say "You know...Cael had the right idea.  A is so stupid." and when she leaves she'll take Angie, Lara, Aaron...everybody.  I'm afraid of being alone again...I want friends but I feel incapable of making them and keeping them.  Like I can't talk to people...but my friends, I can talk to them...which is really saying something, and I'm afraid of losing that with the few people who can really get me to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry at night again because I feel like a failure...I feel like I can't do anything right when it comes to friends.  In fact I turn events over in my head and wince when I realize I said something stupid, that most people would stop talking to me for...I'm just waiting for them to do that...I don't want it to happen but I feel like it will happen...and I've already gotten too close to them!  I love seeing them because they make me feel good, they get me out of any slump...and it sucks because one day it will all be over, like it was last time...and I'll be alone again.  That is, unless I step up and stop saying stupid things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4208195327569309879?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4208195327569309879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4208195327569309879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4208195327569309879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4208195327569309879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/schools-in-session.html' title='School&apos;s In Session'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-71711395790239279</id><published>2008-01-26T17:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T17:43:47.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy Record</title><content type='html'>In track they have times you have to beat to get records and all that stuff, and in chick flick movies when a girl is talking about how she "Doesn't have the best track record when it comes to boys"  or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking today about boys that have actually/are actually attracted to me...wow...the list sucks.  Not to be mean or anything but the guys are all geeks, losers, the kind of guy that other people (especially girls) don't like much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's my list (note that this is only from about 6th grade on up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cael- Sad I know, but he did like me a few times in our lives...until he moved onto liking Wren.&lt;br /&gt;Justin- I don't believe I ever mentioned him before, he was my 1st ex-bf.  He's kinda ugly now...and WAY too nice.&lt;br /&gt;Sean- Okay, everybody hates him.  Nate and Pi would literally try to escape him as often as possible.&lt;br /&gt;Nate- Yeah...we dated a little but decided to just stay friends...now he's gone.&lt;br /&gt;Will-  Eww I know, he told me he has a little crush on me.&lt;br /&gt;Chris-  This is not a little crush...he got me 2 x-mas gifts!  And wants to run over Salad with a car!&lt;br /&gt;Aaron- He told me he had a crush on me once...he also said he had a crush on Lara too.&lt;br /&gt;John-  I don't know if he ever liked me, but we flirted a little bit.  The guy flirts with anything though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I still kind of wish that a guy like Salad would like me...I mean can't every girl daydream about a hot guy instead of a...not hot guy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-71711395790239279?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/71711395790239279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=71711395790239279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/71711395790239279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/71711395790239279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/boy-record.html' title='Boy Record'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-14529815229230373</id><published>2008-01-26T17:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T17:38:59.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comparisons</title><content type='html'>Yeah so I was checking myspace because I was bored...but I didn't spend too much time on it because it's really boring.  But I checked Salad's page just for the hell of it and he put up this survey thing about himself (obviously).  And I checked Wren's page too...again just for the hell of it.  Truthfully myspace bores the shit out of me, so I really don't bother sending comments and stuff because it just...well it's boring to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway back to Salad and Wren...did you know that if you put the two of them together it would probably be a person somewhat like me?  I'm totally serious here...serious as in...really, really serious, scary serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to make this easier on me (and anybody else who reads this) I'm just going to make a list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Comparisons with Salad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we both love soccer&lt;br /&gt;we both like a few of the same music artists&lt;br /&gt;neither of us really believe in love (although I might when it hits me)&lt;br /&gt;we both feel the same way about certain people.&lt;br /&gt;He's one of the few people I know that has gone through a phase sort of like depression, like I did last year.&lt;br /&gt;People to us, are hard to forget&lt;br /&gt;We would rather talk to somebody in person rather than over the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Comparisons with Wren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have the same opinions on books&lt;br /&gt;we both want to be authors&lt;br /&gt;we both like some of the same musical artists&lt;br /&gt;she likes musicals too!&lt;br /&gt;We watch the same tv shows&lt;br /&gt;We idolize most of the same people.&lt;br /&gt;We both hate talking on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is more...I think, those are just the ones I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But while we have many comparisons...there are still MANY contrasts.  Like Wren is a grammar person...I'm not, and Wren is terrified of sports equipment and putting her hair up.  And Salad is a boy, older than me, has different clothes opinions (thank God!) and food opinions.  Ya know stuff like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-14529815229230373?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/14529815229230373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=14529815229230373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/14529815229230373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/14529815229230373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/comparisons.html' title='Comparisons'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5261225621307642460</id><published>2008-01-23T11:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T11:41:03.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday night I got a phone call from Nate, I was surprised to hear his voice over the phone because he hasn't called me in months...actually I'm pretty sure that the last time he called me, it was over the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway he called me last night and told me that he was moving away, he was going to live with his father in a whole other part of the state and he was packing up as we spoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it seems kind of sad to be upset about this but he was one of my closest friend for awhile, and he was the only one of my old friends who never put me down.  And he always asked me how I was doing and how journalism was doing for me.  He was always a great friend and always cared for me.  I'm really going to miss him, but I can't bring myself to cry or anything, even though I want to.  I feel...lost and even somewhat alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5261225621307642460?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5261225621307642460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5261225621307642460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5261225621307642460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5261225621307642460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/lost.html' title='Lost...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1953904432662261456</id><published>2008-01-22T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T15:11:56.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Salad...not!</title><content type='html'>Okay so on Thursday, before the soccer game really got started, Salad was kneeling on the ground.  When I asked, he said he was okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I talked to him later he told me that he was upset and guess what his problem was....Chrissy...again.  He told me that J.M told him that Chrissy was a player, he also told me that he had told Chrissy again...that he liked her but she just wouldn't listen.  So later, I talked to Angie and I told her everything, everything that he had once told me not to tell and everything that I knew.  She said that before the game started  he said that he was feeling faint...like he was going to pass out.  I was beginning to feel REALLY bad for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is...until I talked to Frank during lunch, he told me that Salad told him that he and Chrissy broke it off mutually.  She didn't break up with him and he didn't break up with her, they both decided it wasn't going anywhere.  She did of course tell him that he was too in love with his ex-girlfriend.  I was kind of angry with that...I mean Frank always...well not always...but when it comes to love/like/romance/that stuff he's pretty good at telling the truth, and he and Salad are close friends so...yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think what's really bothering me is when I checked his myspace a few days ago, to show Anna what he looked like, he was right back to feeling depressed again.  And it really bothers me because he's a great guy but he acts like he is the only person who has ever felt this way.  And I really want to tell him that I understand what he's going through, because I do.  Everything he's said so far, I've felt.  How you can't stop thinking about that person, how you still care about that person even though you know they don't care about you back, how you can only think of the good things about them...everything he's said I've felt with my now ex-friend Cael.  I went through the same heartache three times with him, and Salad...he's lucky he's only really been through it once with Chrissy.  The only thing is I don't know how to say it to him because every time I try to talk to him about it, I sound stupid.  Maybe I just need to suck it up and let it out, fuck giving him advice I'll just tell it to him straight, next time I see him, which will be like...Monday I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My horoscope: (it really fits the situation)&lt;br /&gt;This is your Full Moon, increasing the magnitude of your emotions enough to complicate the day. It's difficult to hide your needs, for they -- along with your dreams -- are right on the surface now. But attempting to bury your feelings won't work. You'll be better off bringing them up to the surface and expressing your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1953904432662261456?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1953904432662261456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1953904432662261456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1953904432662261456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1953904432662261456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/poor-saladnot.html' title='Poor Salad...not!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8582563661340375733</id><published>2008-01-22T14:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T14:51:52.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Songwriter dream...gone already</title><content type='html'>So on Thursday I was upset with Salad (which I will mention in the next post...it was not because of Gina it was because of Chrissy) so I decided to write a song...I don't know what drove me to do that but I started writing and just kept going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a matter of a few hours I had a song...a really bad song that sounded terrible when I tried singing it the next day, but a song that I figured I would fix over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started coming up with really crazy ideas of making music videos, putting them on Youtube and sending a cd to Disney Channel to make me famous...but in a matter of days, the whole "I want to be a singer/songwriter" dream...left my mind.  Now I just want to be a famous writer...who writes novels and tv shows and maybe, if I'm really lucky...I'll act too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...let's see how long this dream'll last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8582563661340375733?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8582563661340375733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8582563661340375733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8582563661340375733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8582563661340375733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/songwriter-dreamgone-already.html' title='Songwriter dream...gone already'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8482418298760460250</id><published>2008-01-22T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T14:46:27.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uh-oh Spaghetti-o's.</title><content type='html'>I know this is really late, but I haven't really wanted to blog in awhile, besides since I don't have any school right now, there really isn't anything to blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is from Thursday during gym class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was a normal day, chemistry was boring and gym class soccer is violent.  I mean REALLY violent.  Like Salad and I were almost kicked off the field for playing rough violent.  But my gym teacher is really dumb, her first words before the game started were "Don't push" in soccer, you have to push people out of the way, soccer is a contact sport.  That's why people used to die playing soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I got in trouble because...well first I kicked the ball and it flew from my foot and made perfect contact with Frank's face, luckily he was okay.  And then later on, me and this other guy both hit each other head on...or body on.  Neither of us fell, but he was bleeding in his mouth a little bit and both of us were really sore.  But the way my gym teacher looked at me...she looked at me like I did that on purpose, or that I should die, or that she would take me out of the game if she really wanted to...but instead she just asked if I was okay and then re-started the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad on the other hand...was taken out of the game for a minute because our gym teacher accused him of slide tackling somebody...which he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we play soccer a little violently in gym class.  We are among friends and none of us take the injuries personally, it's the competition, the drive, the feeling winning brings...even though it isn't as great as it would be for a real soccer game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8482418298760460250?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8482418298760460250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8482418298760460250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8482418298760460250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8482418298760460250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/uh-oh-spaghetti-os.html' title='Uh-oh Spaghetti-o&apos;s.'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7792755189141045313</id><published>2008-01-18T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T20:02:16.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feelin a Little Jealous Maybe?</title><content type='html'>I admit it, because I have guy friends I do get a little jealous of other girls.  Not all girls because it's not like I can ban them from all girls (that's evil) just a few girls...like Kat, Jen and Mar...and their friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I never really got really hurt or annoyed if Kat, Jen, Mar (and friends) hung out with the guys because...well the guys don't like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I did not believe I would ever get this jealous about a guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, last year my friend Nate started talking to me less when he was hanging out with "Gina" I didn't mind it much because it got him off my back and she was cool (and she played soccer) and besides, she was nice to me (despite the fact that she walks like a man and acts like one sometimes) but it really started to poke at me when she didn't see me as a threat to her friendship with Nate (apparently she is territorial) which somehow seemed to bother me.  It didn't bother me until she started hanging out with Cael like I did, well not exactly like me, she's a little more "touchy-feely" towards him than I was with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now it really bothered me when Salad pretty much ignored me to talk to Gina about stuff, they were playing with each others hands and laughing, smiling, looking into each others eyes...everything that I want to do.  And it bothered me, about a minute into it, when I realized that this was going on for awhile, I just left but my inside's died and I knew I wanted to stop liking Salad but I can't...I just...I can't...why can't I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7792755189141045313?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7792755189141045313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7792755189141045313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7792755189141045313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7792755189141045313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/feelin-little-jealous-maybe.html' title='Feelin a Little Jealous Maybe?'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3829584730282827306</id><published>2008-01-18T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T19:43:52.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends are Real Friends when...</title><content type='html'>...when they are going through the same things, feeling the same feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in study hall, my good friend Chloe was telling me that her friends told the guy she liked that she likes him...really likes him.  Chloe was telling me that she liked everything about him, they liked the same music, the same bands, they were afraid of the same things, they were equally smart/dumb, and most of all she was able to look through all his flaws...strike that...she loves his flaws.  To her, he has no flaws...but she isn't looking for a boyfriend, just a date to the prom so she doesn't have to go alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she was telling me this...I was able to follow exactly what she was saying because I feel the exact same way about Salad...too bad he's busy with every girl that isn't me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad huh?  I wish I was in Chloe's situation, at least Chloe's guy is being nice to her and everything, Salad...although nice, never made an attempt to play with my feelings.  Sad...even though it's wrong, I really wish he did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3829584730282827306?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3829584730282827306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3829584730282827306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3829584730282827306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3829584730282827306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/friends-are-real-friends-when.html' title='Friends are Real Friends when...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5941896908342346585</id><published>2008-01-16T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T16:36:26.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>White Jacket = Great Day</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend my mom took me to the mall to get a new sweat jacket because  I only had a black one that had been stepped on by Wren during the PSAT's, had things thrown at it by George, has been hugged a trillion times by Aaron, Kate and Will, and has been pulled at by me more times in a day than I can count.  So I bought a white one from American Eagle because white goes with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I ever really wore it was today, and today happened to be a really good day...in my opinion of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when I woke up and found a $100 bill lying on the floor of my bedroom...okay that didn't happen...but wouldn't it be so cool if I did?  No...my morning was like any other morning, get up, get ready for school, go to school, die there.  But the day wasn't as sucky as I had originally made it out to be.  In between chem classes, Kate and Angie left me with the guys, which was great because even though I love spending time with them, I love spending time with the guys too.  So I talked with them for a few minutes and then went back to my seat when the bell rang.  I had time to write my story for the first time in months during study hall because Chloe went to the library and today it was supposed to be just me and her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After study hall, when I usually take a long walk to go see Salad, I was apparently later than I usually am, because when I got downstairs he was waiting for me.  Waiting...for...me...I thought that was just so cool!  Probably because he hasn't waited for me to show up in...awhile.  This is definitely a step forward.  Especially since the bet is now officially over, but in math class Will and I started scheming a way to get Cael and Wren together.  Because you see, when Cael and I were talking, he spent a lot of time talking about Wren because he liked her.  Also at the beginning of the year, Will, Kate and I knew this and were thinking up ways to get them together...not that Cael would ever talk to her.  He doesn't have the balls to do so.  So I brought it up today during one of the numerous infamous notes that Will and I pass during math class.  He made a crude joke and then threatened to give it to Wren in the hallway, which he almost did if I hadn't have intercepted numerous times while Wren talked to Kate.  It took Kate to hold Will down so I could rip the paper, grab the remains and run up to English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the funny thing...I was running down the hallway so Will couldn't catch me and so I wouldn't be late for English and I ran straight into/through (depending on how you look at it) Kat and Jen (who were going in the same direction as I was) and Nate and Cael (at the same time as Kat and Jen, but they were going in the opposite direction) I muttered sorry but I really didn't mean it.  It was fun...for me at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in my last class I actually talked to people...it was the first time in a long time because I don't know the people in the class that well (aside from Wren, Kay, Sherry and "May" plus Kiki's annoying older brother) but it was nice, we talked about books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad thing...I haven't done any of my homework.  I still have chem labs to finish and hand in but I haven't done that yet...and my mom has been bothering me about it, plus I have to read two things for Global by Friday and I haven't even tried to read them yet.  I am really hoping for a snow day Thurs.  it would give me more time for some stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5941896908342346585?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5941896908342346585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5941896908342346585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5941896908342346585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5941896908342346585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/white-jacket-great-day.html' title='White Jacket = Great Day'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7977181484164817875</id><published>2008-01-15T14:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T15:49:12.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep it away from the bimbo's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;OMG my first comment!  (I just saw that now and I'm so happy *jumps for joy*)  Yes Whitters24, Salad is a nickname, Kate and Will made it up for him back in October...he doesn't know about it...which is good otherwise he would know what we talk about in Chemistry class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...we played soccer in gym class today and...it made for an interesting story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gym teacher was out today so we had a sub and he knew very little about soccer.  And since originally our teams were uneven, he had us stand on a blue line so he could put us on teams.  "You should do 1, 2, 1, 2" Salad said.  And of course that is what the guy did.  Salad was smart though, he stood on one side of me and Angie stood on the other so I would be on the other team (because it just isn't the same when Salad and I are on the same team...and the same goes with Angie and I)  The teams ended up being Salad, Angie, Frank and several other varsity soccer players up against me, John, Aaron, 1 varsity soccer player and...well basically we were just a whole bunch of losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen, Mar, and Kat came onto the field once again.  Now, if you don't know...none of the boys, nor Angie, nor I like these girls, and we hate them more when they play soccer because:&lt;br /&gt;1)  They can't play well&lt;br /&gt;2)  They don't even try&lt;br /&gt;3)  When they do "try" they just mess up the game for the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;4)  They aren't the nicest people&lt;br /&gt;5)  They are freakin' idiots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they came on the field and created turmoil.  The first thing they did to set me off was when I heard them say "Keep the ball away from Angie"  but according to Angie they said, "Keep it away from the witch" meaning Angie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys did everything they could to keep the ball away from them but it is really hard to do that when they are standing in the middle of the field.  And Mar kept blowing her whistle whenever there was a handball, the first time she blew the whistle everybody stopped but I told everybody to play it and so we did, and then ignored every other time she blew the whistle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to keep my distance and keep myself from defenestrating them (defenestrate is the act of throwing somebody out a window...it is my favorite long word.) and focused myself on getting the ball away from Salad...which I did several times.  I also fell several times, crashed into Salad, Angie and Frank and have some interesting stories from there, but none I'm going to put in here, there are too many and this post would be way too long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7977181484164817875?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7977181484164817875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7977181484164817875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7977181484164817875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7977181484164817875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/keep-it-away-from-bimbos.html' title='Keep it away from the bimbo&apos;s'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1725507048650511152</id><published>2008-01-15T14:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:36:54.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Again...No Bet.  No problem</title><content type='html'>I posted the same thing about two months ago...exactly (in my time thing) 2 months and a day ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But once again, the problem has been resolved.  I do not have to kiss Salad THANK GOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept saying that I was going to do it but I realized that I was NOT going to do it, that I was just building myself up for it to make myself feel better about myself.  But I value my friendship with Salad more than I would that kiss...even though I still do want to kiss him, I would rather us stay friends.  We are too good together as friends, a winning team...even in soccer...but we rarely, if ever play on the same team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, Kate ended the bet for me.  Will was getting really annoying about it and I couldn't take it anymore.  I hadn't seriously meant it when I said after Angie asks out John.  I was joking and I seriously doubted that she would ever ask him out...EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Will took it seriously and it was like he was pressuring me into something I didn't want to do.  Not like Aaron, who wanted me to do it but at the same time respected my feelings about the subject and would back off when I felt uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So during math class, Will and I were passing notes, and I asked Kate for help.  And help came, she told him something, he shut up for the rest of the period and at the end of the day, Will and I had a confrontation and I am 99% sure that I don't have to kiss him.  So that's good, you won't have to hear about my failures and shit anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1725507048650511152?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1725507048650511152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1725507048650511152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1725507048650511152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1725507048650511152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/once-againno-bet-no-problem.html' title='Once Again...No Bet.  No problem'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5903475320943885498</id><published>2008-01-14T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T17:18:18.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Stupid Bet</title><content type='html'>I have mentioned this stupid bet several times in several posts and it's really starting to bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See Will, Aaron and I had made a deal that if I didn't kiss Salad, then I would have to do something.  Well today that something was revealed.  Will told me that if I didn't kiss Salad by Friday (I forgot all about regents week which takes out a whole chunk of January) then I would have to date him (Will...not Salad) and his girlfriend for four months, and kiss three guys and two girls...of his choice.  One of those boys being Cael and the other two being these guys in my math class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Aaron later on and he gave me some pretty good advice...advice that while I'm typing right now I can barely remember.  He did say though, that I could refuse to do all of it, that nobody can make me do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaron is right, I know that but as I was looking back at some of my other posts I've been having mixed emotions about this.  I mean, I want respect, I want that kiss and I want a life that is better than the one I had with Cael, Brie, Rayna and Nate as my best friends.  But...at the same time I really want to keep my friendship with Salad, he is such a great person and it would be...well terrible to stop being friends again, besides the drama should have subsided back in November when we made up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So why do I still like him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no clue...it is really bugging me that I can't figure out why I like Salad...usually I can figure it out and get over it...why is he so different?  I don't find him that attractive...well I sort of do...but I don't think he's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; sexy.  He isn't that great at sports...but he is good I'll give him that, plus he is competitive especially against me, which I like....and his voice is weird...but I love to listen to it.  He's thin and not muscular but his skin is so soft...I don't know...this whole bet thing is getting old, and it could all end in 2 seconds...not even...but then everything would end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5903475320943885498?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5903475320943885498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5903475320943885498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5903475320943885498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5903475320943885498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/that-stupid-bet.html' title='That Stupid Bet'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5520974214716680116</id><published>2008-01-14T12:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T14:37:20.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Theives and Diets</title><content type='html'>So my good friend Frank is joining the millions of other people in the world who have decided that they need to lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Frank is the kind of person who buys food and then when the lunch lady has her back turned, steals several bagels, milk's, fries and/or whatever they are serving that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well not today, today he brought a healthy lunch with him...but he blew off his thousand calorie diet and bought school lunch.  But he didn't steal anything...from the lunch line I mean.  From our chemistry teacher...well that's another story...a story that I will now tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank got to school twenty minutes before our chemistry teacher, and somehow got into the classroom (this part isn't exactly very clear to me) and while our chem teacher was out of the room he used the opportunity to steal a 280 pack of straws and a liquid in a container that was marked under the hazardous section of the many liquids there.  Stupidly Frank smells the liquid, it smells terrible but he sticks it in his jacket pocket anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank brings the smelly liquid to lunch and shows it to Rose, George and I, George bravely smells it first.  He takes off the top and sticks his nose right by it, the liquid stinks terribly and George's eyes are watering because of the liquid.  Frank cleans off the top of the bottle the liquid is in with the paper from his brown bag lunch.  He gives it to me to smell, I don't get a whiff of it like George does but I do smell it.  Yes it stinks and yes it did bother my nose...George got out his chemistry reference table and hands it to Frank.  Frank tells us that the liquid was ammonia peroxide (or something like that) and that it is an acid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow...so that was weird...we'll see what happens tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5520974214716680116?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5520974214716680116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5520974214716680116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5520974214716680116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5520974214716680116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/theives-and-diets.html' title='Theives and Diets'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-9162166911637803967</id><published>2008-01-14T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T12:14:44.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY?!??!</title><content type='html'>Why does Salad have to be such an amazing person?  Why does he have to have an interesting laugh that sounds really weird but at the same time I kind of like it?  Why do I have to like him?  Because I know he doesn't feel the same way about me and all I'm doing is throwing away our friendship after we rebuilt it two months ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do my friends have to criticize me about him?  And how come they go on different sides, some say go for it and other say don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I shouldn't listen to them...&lt;br /&gt;My only priority should be myself, and I really shouldn't be tending to crushes like Salad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-9162166911637803967?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/9162166911637803967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=9162166911637803967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/9162166911637803967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/9162166911637803967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/why.html' title='WHY?!??!'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7723777856243261135</id><published>2008-01-11T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T17:40:30.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Failure...(#4, 5, 6, and 7)</title><content type='html'>3 failures in one day!  I'm getting better at this...or maybe worse because I still haven't kissed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Failure Numero Cuatro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my first failure of the day was in the last few minutes of my gym class.  Angie, Salad and I were the last people still on the "field" because according to Salad we still had time left.  So we were talking...Salad, Angie and I...not very long but it was long enough for me to lean in and kiss him lightly...not that I would want to do that right then and there.  He was sweaty, I was sweaty and Chris had just given me a late Christmas present. (but that's for a later post)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;#5 on my List of Failures Thus Far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 5th failure this week (2nd today) was right after Gym class...several minutes after my previous failure.  I had just walked out of gym class and to my surprise there he was right next to me.  Yes this is surprising because he never walks out that door, and never at the same time I am.  So we talked for about a minute...maybe not even and once again I could have just leaned in and kissed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Sixth Failure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6th Failure!  3rd today!  Gosh I suck at this kissing/love/like thingamabob.  Actually...this was my third failure in 10 minutes...doesn't that suck?  It was right before homeroom, and I had gone down the hallway his homeroom was in so I could talk to my math teacher about a retake test that I kept forgetting to take.  We were once again so close but I chickened out...yes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 Failures...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in 1 week I have had AT LEAST 7 failures.  These are the only ones that really surface in my mind.  And this one is the most recent one.  It was between my study hall and my art class, we usually talk between classes then because...I dunno we just do, that and before homeroom usually.  So because of me we got on the topic of Cael and he was so sweet to me!  He walked me to my art class and talked to me, he told me that Cael wasn't a real friend.  HE IS SO SWEET!  I couldn't lean in and kiss him then!  It would ruin the moment!  So Monday maybe...we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7723777856243261135?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7723777856243261135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7723777856243261135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7723777856243261135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7723777856243261135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/failure4-5-6-and-7.html' title='The Failure...(#4, 5, 6, and 7)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1903172494723270169</id><published>2008-01-10T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T16:49:51.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Failure...(#3)</title><content type='html'>Yet another failed attempt to kiss Salad.  Seriously...why am I even bothering?  We have a good relationship as friends...I shouldn't push it, but this time it wasn't my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before homeroom Salad and I were talking by one of the classrooms in the math wing, I was very close to him (physically...and maybe emotionally too) and I was waiting for Aaron and Will to come so that they would believe me if I said I kissed him (although they could just ask him and he'd tell them the truth if I had lied) so technically I was stalling and they never showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I found it interesting that when I was beginning to run late for my art class, (which I usually see Salad right before that class) I figured I wouldn't see him and just as I'm coming out of the hallway, there he is, walking past me.  How weird is that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1903172494723270169?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1903172494723270169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1903172494723270169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1903172494723270169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1903172494723270169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/failure3.html' title='The Failure...(#3)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1022529816044076421</id><published>2008-01-09T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T16:53:56.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perks of Being a "Soccer Girl"</title><content type='html'>Soccer Girl is a made up term, I couldn't think of anything else to say because technically I wouldn't be considered a tom boy...because my hair is long and I do wear girls clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...Angie and I are the only Soccer Girl's in my gym class...well Kay plays soccer too...but since she hangs out with Wren and Rayna during gym...she isn't a Gym Class Soccer Girl.  Right...moving on now...well since Angie and I always play soccer with the guys...after several games, we have finally made a rank as "one of the guys" which basically means that the guys will go tougher on us than they would other girls...but at the same time they are just as sweet. (this is one of those aww... moments)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in soccer, the game was tied 2-2.  I finally scored a goal!  But Salad scored two goals...so that really ruined that victory.  But anyway...onto the perks...you see I fell like a million times and got a whole bunch of bruises all over myself.  But one time I fell, Salad was right near by and he asked me if I was okay and I think he was about to help me up...if I didn't do it myself.  He asked me if I was okay another time right after we both had been fighting for the soccer ball...I hadn't fallen or anything, but he did make me dizzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angie...oh she had it even better.  She and R had a run in and he grabbed her around the waist to keep her from falling, and then held onto her for a couple seconds after to make sure she was okay.  (Just so you know R is HOT!  Well in my opinion, but I like Latino boys, and Angie likes white boys with long hair)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just so you know...Kat, Mar and Jen all went on the field today, the guys did whatever they could to make sure they didn't get the ball.  In fact, once Kat was going to head the ball but Frank hit the ball right before it hit her and the guys started kicking it again.  I thought it was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, while we were going to the locker room to change Angie was telling me that Salad didn't want to go hard on Angie's friends because he was afraid of them getting hurt, and Angie just told him to go for it because we really didn't care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1022529816044076421?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1022529816044076421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1022529816044076421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1022529816044076421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1022529816044076421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/perks-of-being-soccer-girl.html' title='The Perks of Being a &quot;Soccer Girl&quot;'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5443269950595269951</id><published>2008-01-09T09:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T10:34:43.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Failure...(#2)</title><content type='html'>I know what your thinking, "today is Wednesday!  Didn't she say that her next attempt was Thursday and that she's actually going to do it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I did...thank you for noticing!  But guess what?  An unexpected attempt at Salad came up today...and I guess some would say that I chickened out.  I say...I completely forgot about that bet...for that moment at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The school day ended early so the whole school would be out there and I was one of the first people to get out thinking that Salad would already be out.  I was wrong.  I ended up on the sidewalk waiting for him...or anybody that was considered my friend to come out.  Lara was the first one out and we talked for a little, Chris was next and he waited with us.  Then Angie and Will came out and we were talking and joking when Salad and his friend "Ray" came out and walked towards us.  When they were right nearby, without thinking, I started talking to Salad about how violent he and the other guys were in soccer, to which he responded that I ran over him and kicked him...several times (I swear I didn't) and then just as he and Ray had begun to walk away, I turned back towards my friends they stared quietly at me for a second and then Will spoke up and asked me why I didn't kiss him right then and there while he was right in my grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, while I was talking to Salad, all I could think about was talking to him...not the bet.  I didn't chicken out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5443269950595269951?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5443269950595269951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5443269950595269951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5443269950595269951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5443269950595269951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/failure2.html' title='The Failure...(#2)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-644269943377720013</id><published>2008-01-08T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T17:27:32.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Failure...(#1)</title><content type='html'>No, I did not kiss Salad which is why this post is called The Failure. (by the way #1 means I have a pretty good feeling this won't be the last time.)  I didn't chicken out I swear!  But Frank diverted my attention so I had to run down the hall and hit him, then run in the opposite direction.  By the time I got downstairs, I saw Salad go into homeroom.  So it wasn't my fault okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did talk to Aaron and Will though, they said I have until the end of the month to kiss him...or else.  We haven't figured out what the or else is yet but we will by tomorrow.  Of course just as they were bothering me about loving Salad, to which I answered that I don't believe in love...only like.  Salad walked out the door.  Just my luck huh?  And just as I was walking away, the three guys started talking, so I started cursing them out under my breath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully...Salad did not bring me up in the conversation, nor did he ask what we were talking about.  Aaron says he doesn't think Salad knows what is going on but he isn't completely sure.  Just goes to show you...guys can be great sometimes...but keeping secrets?  You need certain guys for that...and certain secrets...liking somebody...yeah...that's not exactly one of them...especially when the guy is one of your guy friend's friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from Aaron and Will...who really didn't bring up my failure...the only person who brought it up was George who took my silence as a no before I could explain...I did end up explaining...and yes, he did laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday is my next try...let's see if I do it right this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-644269943377720013?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/644269943377720013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=644269943377720013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/644269943377720013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/644269943377720013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/failure1.html' title='The Failure...(#1)'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7547045005146137173</id><published>2008-01-07T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:55:17.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Decision...</title><content type='html'>After a very long and hard thinking session...all weekend...I came up with no choice for that bet, despite the fact that I was probably being hinted at a certain answer the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up with a decision today though...during math.  After Kate told me that in the future I'd be making harder decisions that will affect my life more, after Angie told me not to bring myself down, that he might like me, after Salad and I had a conversation...a short conversation which made me realize that our friendship wasn't that great anyway...but his skin is soft...very soft..., and after I talked to Frank and George...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn't until I learned that Will had no intentions to give him the book in the first place that I really came up with my decision...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, my whole life...I've been playing it safe, I would never fall for a guy for fear of being hurt, I always tried to do what I was told, and I had always kept quiet, even when I had a problem.  Not anymore.  New friends, new life.  I can't change the past, and you can't repeat the past but you can use the past against yourself to force yourself into doing something different.  I thought about how I wanted to get back at Cael for everything he did, and how I would always help Brie with her love problems but never thought about my own love problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to do it...I'm going to kiss Salad, life's too short you know?  And if Angie could muster up enough courage to ask Bancurra out...I could muster up enough courage to kiss Salad, which would not only make me happy but would earn me a lot more respect than I'm used to.  My friendship with Salad might be strained or broken, but at least I could say that I kissed him...it might not be a "real" kiss but it's better than nothing...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to muster up enough courage to actually kiss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7547045005146137173?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7547045005146137173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7547045005146137173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7547045005146137173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7547045005146137173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-decision.html' title='My Decision...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-9035929071610258828</id><published>2008-01-04T16:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T08:17:12.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys, Boys, Boys...</title><content type='html'>Boys...what can I say about them?  Aside from the fact that I hang out with WAY too many of them?  Um...how about the guys I know...are all FUCKING CRAZY!  (yes that is the only way to describe them...and since I am too lazy to describe my whole day, let's put this in parts.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I mentioned earlier that we had this bet and I figured he wouldn't remember.  Was I wrong or what?  The stakes are really high now.  If I don't kiss Salad on Tuesday right before homeroom with Will present, on Wednesday, he is going to give Salad a story which has um...very perverted thoughts on it...which he will pass off as mine.  If I do kiss him, the story doesn't go out and Will shuts up for a week.  Sounds easy doesn't it?  I get to kiss the guy I like, and the most annoying guy I know shuts up during math class.  I wish it were that easy.  Salad and I just rebuilt our friendship, we have a fluctuating relationship, sometimes we're up, sometimes we're down...and he's just getting over Chrissy...the odds are not in my favor here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Salad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Salad...we had chem today and he and Frank spent the whole class talking.  Salad and I were talking after class and he showed me what he and Frank were doing all period.  Apparently, they were playing with Salad's mp3 player thing where they can edit pictures, so they were making a montage of their favorite things.  Apparently, Frank likes soccer, girls, beer and some other things that I can't remember, and Salad likes soccer, music, girls...and some other stuff that I can't remember.  Yeah...I don't remember everything, I just remember that we were close together, leaning over one little mp3 player...heads almost touching... *sigh* ...but not quite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;George&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first encounter with George today was when he was dancing outside our chemistry classroom waiting for the bell to ring while trying to get Wren's attention so she could get Frank's attention.  I didn't see him again until lunch where he was just as crazy as ever, we were playing a game similar to spin the bottle (but it was more like spin the weight) and Frank kept landing on him, so George tried to make himself look available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Frank&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when Frank wasn't getting George, he was getting me.  We just looked at each other, he didn't even bother pretend, and I didn't even bother look available...not like George at least.  Eh...basically I told his story through everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow Nate and Pi actually sat with us today...I guess we are the closest things they have to friends.  So far today he seemed to be one of the coolest guys.  He asked about journalism, I said I loved it and he told me that he always thought I seemed like the journalist type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is the first time I ever mentioned him...he's this guy who goes to my church and my high school.  He plays tennis with Nate and they are good friends...and we have pretty much ignored each other for most of our lives...even though we had art and lunch together this year.  So anyway today we talked a little bit since he came to our table today, actually he insulted me...in German.  He called me a slut/tramp (that was the definition) so I went over and slapped him...you know all the guys I know do the same thing when they don't want to get hit.  They put their hoodies up and put their heads on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday Angie asked John out, and today right before lunch I was going up to Angie and she practically ran over to me and told me that John came up to her and said, "you look hot" and she couldn't stop smiling.  Then when she went for an answer at the end of the day, he told her that he couldn't have a girlfriend because he only wanted to think about his grades right now and his last girlfriend distracted him from his schoolwork.  Angie was sort of hurt...but we both agreed that she should go home and drown her sorrows in music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these are the guys I interacted with today...I didn't really get a chance to talk to Aaron...all I really said to him was "it's all your fault Aaron" because of the bet, and Salad chimed in and said, "Yeah Aaron it's all your fault"  poor Aaron...and he forgot too...I should have cut him more slack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-9035929071610258828?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/9035929071610258828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=9035929071610258828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/9035929071610258828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/9035929071610258828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/boys-boys-boys.html' title='Boys, Boys, Boys...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1349386841224038038</id><published>2008-01-03T14:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T17:15:47.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Told You So</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I said today would be interesting...especially gym class.  And guess what?  I was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started in gym class...when we were playing soccer.  Angie chickened out at first and wouldn't talk to John or ask him out.  So then we started playing soccer, and unfortunately for me, Salad and I were on the same team.  I know what your thinking, you are wondering, "Wait...doesn't she like Salad?  Why doesn't she want him on her team?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for a great question, there is a great answer!  You see I do still like Salad (although Will believes I am in love with him because after all this time, I still like him and I get a rush whenever I'm around him.) but the point of soccer is for me to take the ball away from him, I can't do that if he's on my soccer team!  It ruins the purpose!  I can't gloat if we're on the same team.  I even said that to him...well not those exact words.  All I said was that it wouldn't be as fun...I think he was kind of hurt by that...but whatever.  Surprisingly...Salad and I make a pretty good team and the game ended up tied 2-2 and we both took a few shots on goal, but I headed the ball several times and together with "J.M" and J we ruled the field for our team.  Unfortunately Kat and her friend Mar joined in too, the guys humored them a little and let them kick the ball a few times but not really much.  And then further into the game, Chris got hit by the ball in the gut and was on the ground so Aaron had to step in as our goalie, but Chris came back later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, knowing that Angie wouldn't tell John how she felt about him, or ask him out...I made a deal with Will that I would kiss Salad.  I had a feeling I would at least have a day so I wouldn't have to worry about it until Monday...but no...she talked to him during 9th period (when I couldn't get to her) and when I saw them walking together after school, I knew I was too late.  Then everybody found out and now I have to to this dare thing...with Aaron and Will present.  This is not going to go well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1349386841224038038?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1349386841224038038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1349386841224038038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1349386841224038038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1349386841224038038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-told-you-so.html' title='I Told You So'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5185460882206002757</id><published>2008-01-02T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:39:46.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crammed in a Room with my Past and Present</title><content type='html'>Even as I remind myself of this, I tell myself that it could have been worse...much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it started out as a typical day in my life and high school...except for the fact that nobody really got a chance to sleep last night, but I walked up to Global with Chloe and to my horror Cael, Nate and Rayna were there.  And once Brie entered the classroom, I did the first thing that came to mind.  I flaunted my present in front of my past...sort of.  I really just hugged Aaron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cael and Nate stayed a little longer, long enough to have short conversations with Rayna and Brie before they left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still hurt though...because for those of you who don't know, Rayna, Brie, Cael and Nate used to be my best friends at school.  We did a lot together, we went shopping, went to movies...you know stuff like that.  We were close, or I thought we were, even though they unintentionally (maybe intentionally) brought down my self esteem by saying that they were better than me (without actually saying those words most of the time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then one day Cael dropped me, and slowly the rest of them went too, they took me out of their mall plans and movie plans and replaced me with other people, and even when I reconciled with them for whatever I did, things weren't that great.  And things haven't been better since they all left me in September, two of them try to act like they didn't but they rarely, talk to me and when they do, it usually isn't for very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So needless to say being crammed in a room with those four people wasn't exactly my favorite moment, especially since my "replacements" were in the same room too.  I felt sick the whole rest of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5185460882206002757?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5185460882206002757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5185460882206002757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5185460882206002757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5185460882206002757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/crammed-in-room-with-my-past-and.html' title='Crammed in a Room with my Past and Present'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-473765824969573892</id><published>2008-01-02T12:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:40:29.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Should Be Interesting...</title><content type='html'>So today was the first day back at school.  And guess what?  Nobody slept.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody was up late, most were trying to go to sleep but just couldn't, others just didn't even bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it showed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a typical day in school, my mornings are spent talking to Kate, Angie, Aaron, Frank and Salad.  Today though...it wasn't like that.  the guys only talked to the guys and the girls only talked to the girls.  It took Aaron over an hour to hug me when it usually takes a couple minutes.  Frank didn't talk to me until lunch...and Salad and I pretty much ignored each other once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully tomorrow is a gym day...or at least I think this should be thankfully.  Because I have a feeling this gym class will be VERY interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, you see at the beginning of the year my friend Angie had this HUGE crush on John and right before I started this blog she decided she didn't like him like that (hence the reason this is the first time anybody is reading about this) but today she asks me, "When do you see John?"&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" I asked her, eyebrow arched.&lt;br /&gt;"Just tell me when you see him."  Angie answered.&lt;br /&gt;"Between 4th and 5th, and/or 5th and 6th" I said.&lt;br /&gt;"Can you ask him if he is dating anybody or if he likes anybody for me?"  she asks me.&lt;br /&gt;"Okay..." I say slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since I am a good friend who always "helps out" in my friends love lives I do approach John and ask him if he is dating anybody and if he likes anybody.  He tells me that he isn't dating anybody and that he likes his friends, then we parted before he could find out who likes him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Chris asked me if I wanted to go to this dance thing.  I have only been to one once but I had a lot of fun and I am thinking about going again, but before I started my homework I thought about it, and came up with the idea of Salad tagging along so he can get over Chrissy.  I mean at this dance there is slow dancing and there are a lot of eligible girls who would love for somebody like Salad to dance with her.  So...maybe it would help.  All I would have to do is convince Chris to allow Salad to come with us, and convince Salad to come with us.  Or I could throw my own party...that would be...interesting-er.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so...since my gym class features yours truly, Kate, Angie, John, Chris, Frank, Aaron, Chrissy, Sherry, Kay, Wren, Salad, Lyle, Laquan and Lara...with all the drama...there doesn't seem to be any time for soccer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Gym class tomorrow...will be VERY interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-473765824969573892?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/473765824969573892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=473765824969573892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/473765824969573892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/473765824969573892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-should-be-interesting.html' title='This Should Be Interesting...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4807137159023552651</id><published>2007-12-31T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T12:46:53.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 People Who are out of my life (that I am glad about)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Rayna&lt;br /&gt;09)  Nate&lt;br /&gt;08)  "Josie"&lt;br /&gt;07)  "Gwyn"&lt;br /&gt;06)  "Jane"&lt;br /&gt;05)  "Kelli"&lt;br /&gt;04)  "Shanna"&lt;br /&gt;03)  Brie&lt;br /&gt;02)  Kiki&lt;br /&gt;01)  Cael&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 People Who Made it into my life (thank goodness!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Chloe&lt;br /&gt;09)  Wren&lt;br /&gt;08)  Laquan&lt;br /&gt;07)  Will&lt;br /&gt;06)  Aaron&lt;br /&gt;05)  Salad&lt;br /&gt;04)  Kate&lt;br /&gt;03)  Angie&lt;br /&gt;02)  George&lt;br /&gt;01)  Frank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 BIGGEST MOMENTS in 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  The site I used to spend most of my life in middle school is gone.&lt;br /&gt;09)  My cousin and I stopped talking&lt;br /&gt;08)  I got the Wii&lt;br /&gt;07)  My deepest darkest secret&lt;br /&gt;06)  I almost fell for a girl.&lt;br /&gt;05)  Harry Potter 5 came out and the 7th and final Harry Potter book came out.&lt;br /&gt;04)  I found out how guys really feel about the girl they like/love.&lt;br /&gt;03)  I told Salad how I felt about him.&lt;br /&gt;02)  I lost all my old friends and gained several new friends.&lt;br /&gt;01)  Cael and I stopped talking, started talking, and then stopped talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 People who will never change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Cael will always be a backstabber.&lt;br /&gt;09)  Brie will always be a slut.&lt;br /&gt;08)  Kiki will always be a bitch&lt;br /&gt;07)  Rayna will always be a know it all&lt;br /&gt;06)  Nate will always try to be popular.&lt;br /&gt;05)  Will is always going to be a perv.&lt;br /&gt;04)  Salad will always be a hopeless romantic.&lt;br /&gt;03)  Chloe will never change how she feels about a guy.&lt;br /&gt;02)  George will always be a camera hog.&lt;br /&gt;01)  Frank will always be there when I need him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 People who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;might&lt;/span&gt; change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Aaron&lt;br /&gt;09)  Rose&lt;br /&gt;08)  Chris&lt;br /&gt;07)  Terri&lt;br /&gt;06)  Anna&lt;br /&gt;05)  Kate&lt;br /&gt;04)  Angie&lt;br /&gt;03)  Chrissy&lt;br /&gt;02)  Sherry&lt;br /&gt;01)  John&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 of the Best Songs I heard first in 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Hate that I love you by Rihanna ft Ne-Yo&lt;br /&gt;09)  Our Song by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;08)  Like it or Leave it by Aly and AJ&lt;br /&gt;07)  Love Song by Sara Bareilles&lt;br /&gt;06)  Clumsy by Fergie&lt;br /&gt;05)  Going Under by Evanescence&lt;br /&gt;04)  He Said, She Said by Ashley Tisdale&lt;br /&gt;03)  Goodnight and Go by Imogen Heap&lt;br /&gt;02)  Teardrops on My Guitar by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;01)  Even Angels Fall by Jessica Riddle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 Books I read first in 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Telling Christina Goodbye by Lurlene McDaniel&lt;br /&gt;09)  Tuesday's With Morrie by Mitch Albom&lt;br /&gt;08)  13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson&lt;br /&gt;07)  the 310 Novels by Beth Killian&lt;br /&gt;06)  The Scarlet Letterman by Cara Lockwood&lt;br /&gt;05)  Wuthering High by Cara Lockwood&lt;br /&gt;04)  Someone Like Summer by M.E. Kerr&lt;br /&gt;03)  Dreamland by Sarah Dessen&lt;br /&gt;02)  DRAMA!  The Four Dorothy's by Paul Ruditis&lt;br /&gt;01)  DRAMA!  Everyone's a Critic  by Paul Ruditis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 Television Shows that I seemed to be Addicted to in 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Dirty Sexy Money&lt;br /&gt;09)  Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;08)  Notes From the Underbelly&lt;br /&gt;07)  All My Children&lt;br /&gt;06)  Gossip Girl&lt;br /&gt;05)  Private Practice&lt;br /&gt;04)  About A Girl&lt;br /&gt;03)  Smallville&lt;br /&gt;02)  Samantha Who?&lt;br /&gt;01)  Ugly Betty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 Answers From 10 Personality Quizzes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Your party song style is: Fun&lt;br /&gt;09)  You're a "pretending we can be friends" ex&lt;br /&gt;08)  You're a part-time party animal&lt;br /&gt;07)  Surprise! You're human&lt;br /&gt;06)  You're Hermione from the Harry Potter movies&lt;br /&gt;05)  Naughty or Nice? : Nice!&lt;br /&gt;04)  Skeptical&lt;br /&gt;03)  Flying Solo&lt;br /&gt;02)      You are happy-go-dateable&lt;br /&gt;01)       You Are Literally Hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 Things I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AM&lt;/span&gt; Doing Next Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Get a boyfriend, even if it is only for an hour or two...just to get people off my back about it.&lt;br /&gt;09)  Try a new food...something I hadn't even heard of before I tried it.&lt;br /&gt;08)  Go to a party...not a birthday party, a REAL high school party.&lt;br /&gt;07)  Actually wear some of those low cut shirts I have...maybe when it gets warmer.&lt;br /&gt;06)  Telling at least 2 more friends my deepest darkest secret.&lt;br /&gt;05)  Get back at Cael for everything he did to me...but in a way that he would never know I did it.&lt;br /&gt;04)  Going to an expensive store with my best friend and my cousin, and try on expensive clothes we'll never buy.&lt;br /&gt;03)  Learning how to drive a car&lt;br /&gt;02)  Finishing the first draft of a novel...I keep procrastinating on this one.&lt;br /&gt;01)  Have a better year than I did last year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4807137159023552651?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4807137159023552651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4807137159023552651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4807137159023552651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4807137159023552651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/10-things.html' title='10 Things'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3078123925592733615</id><published>2007-12-30T19:13:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T19:45:05.155-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Friends</title><content type='html'>So you have sort of heard about my new friends...but if you knew how I met these people, you would be very surprised that I managed to become friends with some of these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Guys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris:  He moved into my neighborhood when I was six, we went down to meet him but we really only said hi and stuff.  Then we didn't see each other for several months and he had completely forgotten all about me by that time so when I said "hi" he asked me who I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank:  The first time I saw Frank he walked into my biology classroom, but I never really noticed him until gym a few days later when I was sitting out with Jen and another girl.  Jen asked me if I thought he was cute, I said he was, and she told me to go sleep with him in the locker room.  The first time I really talked to him though was in November though, we were both doing track and since he was "seeing" my friend (at the time) Brie we ended up talking after track for a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George:  I hadn't seen him until Nate invited me to go to see a movie with Cael, George, Kay and Wren.  I met George when I got to the theater and thought he was crazy, especially when we were in the theater and he got up in front of everybody and asked who was a leo (besides me and him).  Nobody answered him but it sure was funny.  I didn't really see him for months...not until study hall, we didn't talk for most of it but he did once accuse me of staring at him...although he said that I was staring at him like I was going to kill him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaron:  Originally he was supposed to be in my math class last year but he was only there for one day and that one day we had a sub.  I never thought I would see him again, then I found out he was in my gym class and our first meeting there was when I tripped on the sidewalk and he laughed at me (along with Frank and Salad and some of the other guys.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will:   I had heard all about him from Cael, how annoying he was, how he "molested girls" and all that stuff and the first time I met him I was 11 and he jumped out and surprised Cael.  Nevermind me, I didn't really exist...until I was 13 and I was switched into his science class...and ended up sitting with him, Chris and another girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  The first time I met Salad I was playing soccer, we were on opposite teams and at one point we were both trying to get the soccer ball, since we were both sort of evenly matched, it took awhile.  The next game we went up against each other once again and this time when I got the ball it was obvious that he was sort of annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laquan:  The first time we ever really met, I was out with Cael, his sister, his sister's best friend and his grandmother who took us to get a hot dog, I saw Laquan, knew he was from our school and waved...despite the fact that I didn't actually know him.  I saw him a few days later at school with Kate and Angie, he asked if Cael and I were siblings, I told him we were cousins and I didn't see him again...until gym this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Girls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angie:  The first time we met, we were 13 and celebrating Halloween at Cael's house with our enemies.  We hit it off instantly but didn't get a chance to talk much after that, but we did say hi whenever we saw each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  We met in 7th grade, I sat at a table with one of her friends during English class when we had to read this play, and then Kate came and Cael came.  The four of us spent the whole class laughing and started doing that whenever we got to be in groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe:  Chloe had been in my elementary school but our paths had never crossed.  We met during lunch in middle school when somebody at her table threw something and it hit me, she apologized and I didn't see her again until this year when we found out we had several of the same classes together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lara:  We met in elementary school...believe it or not...I can't really remember how we met...I think I was about 8 or 9 years old maybe...I don't really remember that far back, all I know is we didn't hit it off that quickly, and we didn't talk for years because we never saw each other. (we only recently started talking again this year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay:  I met her in elementary school too, she was in my girl scout troop, she was quiet around me and I was sort of quiet around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wren:  The first time w&lt;a href="post-create.do#" onclick="togglePostOptions(); return false"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e met it was because of Cael and Nate.  Last year they came up with this Hallway tag thing and both of us were playing, at one point the four of us just stood in a circle and tagged each other.  After that I saw her a few times talking to other people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3078123925592733615?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3078123925592733615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3078123925592733615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3078123925592733615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3078123925592733615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-new-friends.html' title='My New Friends'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-1316925825983666465</id><published>2007-12-30T19:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T19:18:39.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honorary Family</title><content type='html'>While Terri was over my house, she told me about her best friend "Mel" and how Mel has a key to her house and basically comes over whenever she wants, sometimes she just comes over to grab a sandwich and go.  Mel was adopted into her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend Anna can't do what Mel does though, her house is a 20 minute drive from my house...on a good day.  It feels a lot longer though, but Anna has been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and she knows every single person in my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year my cousin Terri is making her confirmation and was allowed to have a party.  Since Terri, Anna and I are all close, Terri asked if she could invite Anna, her mother said that Anna wasn't part of the family.  Although my aunt doesn't know, that Anna is part of the family, she was adopted into our family years ago, just like Mel has been adopted into Terri's family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I really have to meet Mel, because I have a feeling that Terri, Anna and I are no longer going to be a threesome but a foursome...because Mel sounds so cool and would fit in perfectly with us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-1316925825983666465?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1316925825983666465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=1316925825983666465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1316925825983666465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/1316925825983666465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/honorary-family.html' title='Honorary Family'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8779930810468393878</id><published>2007-12-30T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T19:13:02.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People and Their Stupid Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I just remembered this...on my last day of school for 2007, while I was waiting to get picked up, I met up with my friend Will, and he told me that he was surprised people didn't think that we were dating because we always hang out and we were walking towards each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully though, now that I think about it, people always thought I was dating Cael because we always hung out, even if people had only seen us for the first time they believed we were dating (they probably think we broke up now because we refuse to acknowledge the others presence)  I think the only person who didn't think that right off the bat (and admitted to that) was Laquan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is really annoying that even in today's society when boys and girls do hang out, people still think they are dating.  IT IS SOOOO ANNOYING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8779930810468393878?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8779930810468393878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8779930810468393878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8779930810468393878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8779930810468393878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/people-and-their-stupid-thoughts.html' title='People and Their Stupid Thoughts'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-793192430250768312</id><published>2007-12-30T18:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T19:20:36.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Year In a Nutshell</title><content type='html'>Like I mentioned in the last post, my cousin Terri came for Christmas and we hadn't spoken in months.  So obviously we had a lot to catch up on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her first question was "Tell me all about Cael"&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know, Cael had been my best guy friend since I was 9.  He ditched me for this other girl in May or June of 9th grade which really upset me, he tried apologizing but I refused to listen.  For several weeks I was prodded by several adults to apologize to him for walking away, but I didn't want to.  I even talked to my Guidance Counselor about it, I don't remember what she had told me, but I do remember something about apologies in there.  Over the summer I went to his house and told him everything, we took a long walk around his neighborhood, caught up and decided we were friends again.  If only it were that simple.  I started waiting for him and Nate outside of their math class which is when I started talking to Salad, actually the day I started talking to him, Cael ditched me.  So I explained it all to Terri, when she heard Salad though, her eyes lit up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Salad...Tell me about him."&lt;br /&gt;I told him, he was cute and that he was a senior, then at home I told her all about his relationship issues with Chrissy, that I told Salad I liked him, that he ignored me for a month, we became friends and he now confides in me with his relationship issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that the people that were at the party in August were now out of my life and that I had newer and better friends.  That Will had asked me to marry him once and to date him at least 10 times in the past few months.  About George and his craziness and about Frank.  I told her about all my friends and their weird antics, I even showed her a video of my friends at lunch...the one they took a few weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She in turn told me about her friends, how her ex-boyfriend is a whore and how we all really need to get together.  Her and her friends, Me and my friends, and Anna and her friends...boy that would be one hell of a party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-793192430250768312?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/793192430250768312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=793192430250768312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/793192430250768312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/793192430250768312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-year-in-nutshell.html' title='My Year In a Nutshell'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-7332559074160362013</id><published>2007-12-30T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T18:51:30.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken to Whole in 5 minutes flat</title><content type='html'>Back in August my favorite cousin "Terri" came to stay with me for the week, but the weather sucked and since my parents were both at work all day long, it was really just the two of us (and sometimes Anna) alone with my brother.  Needless to say it got boring fast, and by the end of the week, she wanted to leave and I wanted her to leave.  We ended off her visit in a sour note...we had a fight over something really stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really though...both of us were ready to pull our hair out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't really talk the last few minutes of her visit and then I got a phone call the next day from her apologizing.  I tried to call back, but every time I did...she wouldn't answer her cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas Eve, we were supposed to meet up in church, it would be the first time we saw each other in several months.  I was nervous all day long, freaking out actually.  I tried to tell myself that she wasn't mad at me anymore, or that she must have forgotten about it since school and life had been so hectic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there, I smiled, she stuck her tongue out and I did the same, she talked to me and we laughed and caught up on every aspect of each others lives.  I'll get more into detail about that in another post though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we went up to my room, called Anna and then talked about how bad we felt over the last few months, and it turned out that every time I called her, I was calling somebody else since I had the wrong number.  Oops, well I won't have to worry about that anymore, she checked it herself and we promised to call each other more often.  Maybe even during school hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-7332559074160362013?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7332559074160362013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=7332559074160362013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7332559074160362013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/7332559074160362013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/broken-to-whole-in-5-minutes-flat.html' title='Broken to Whole in 5 minutes flat'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3465956242164178011</id><published>2007-12-30T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T18:42:31.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Song For All Needs</title><content type='html'>The reason I changed the quote thing to "Something to think about" was because I have been listening to music that fits my mood for a long time.  When I'm upset I put on a depressing song that talks about what made me sad, when I like somebody I listen to a love song that talks about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So over this long break I've been thinking about Salad...but surprisingly not the way I have been.  Now...I don't like him as much...I mean I still like him but not like I used to.  As I mentioned in another post earlier this month, he is hung up over a girl, so I heard this song that fits his emotions right now so well.  The song is:  Even Angels Fall by Jessica Riddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the story I get from it:  There is a guy who has fallen in love with a girl, but the girl broke up with him for some reason and the guy is looking for help.  His friend (that is a girl) is explaining to him about love and how hard it is while telling him that he will get over her one day and that love hurts and it doesn't just happen to him, it can happen to everybody...even angels.  That's what I get out of it, and every time I listen to it, I think of Salad and his broken relationship with Chrissy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3465956242164178011?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3465956242164178011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3465956242164178011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3465956242164178011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3465956242164178011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/song-for-all-needs.html' title='A Song For All Needs'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-6612575939208181589</id><published>2007-12-30T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T18:31:05.332-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Christmas</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry I took so long, the holidays are important in my household because we always seem to have somebody over and the preparation is time consuming.  I've got several days to catch up on, so I'll get started in the next post.  Right now I'm just going to post a quick poem I wrote over holiday break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are people who care&lt;br /&gt;Who tell you right from wrong&lt;br /&gt;Who hug you when your down&lt;br /&gt;Who keep you sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends know how to cheer you up&lt;br /&gt;What buttons to push&lt;br /&gt;When to stop&lt;br /&gt;And when to bring extra food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends pry when you keep secrets&lt;br /&gt;But they do it out of love&lt;br /&gt;And you can always go to them for advice&lt;br /&gt;They keep you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all...&lt;br /&gt;Friends are the people you can always talk to&lt;br /&gt;and in return, they keep you from hurting yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Any friend who doesn't do this...isn't a true friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-6612575939208181589?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6612575939208181589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=6612575939208181589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6612575939208181589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/6612575939208181589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/late-christmas.html' title='Late Christmas'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-5253070080128422842</id><published>2007-12-23T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T19:47:25.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons for My Ways...</title><content type='html'>12/20/07&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad-    We beat you guys again today.  I have so much fun playing soccer in that gym especially when i score. What{s up with you.        &lt;br /&gt;A-    Yeah of course u like it when u score.  Who doesn't?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's really up with me...i'm really doing nothing.  What's up with u?&lt;br /&gt;Salad-        i am going to a youth group today like every wednesday. We play soccer in there and i get to see two of my best friends B and L are really cool. We also play soccer with them since they like it so much as well as i do. Im also getting family from FLORIDA this Friday. All of these is helping me forget about Chrissy. Its really hard. Trust me it really is&lt;br /&gt;A-     Cool sounds like a lot of fun, I have family coming down on Christmas eve.&lt;br /&gt;I trust you on that...I've felt that way about a boyfriend before.  It is hard.&lt;br /&gt;Salad- Uhhh yeah.... could be but we are all different. Im nor the type of person that forgets about others easily when i like them. But whatever i wish it didnt matter. you are writting a noverl cool. ill see you tomorrow because im getting ready to leave.&lt;br /&gt;A-     Ok, see you tomorrow...and good luck in trying to get Chrissy off your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;That was a convo between Salad and I on myspace...and as I reread it, I realized how dumb I must sound talking about an ex boyfriend.  That is why whenever something like this comes up, I use examples from other people.  My love life...was really...really bad...and I think Salad thought I was talking about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, Cael and Nate are two of my ex boyfriends, and one of their friends "Justin" is also one of their friends and my ex boyfriend.  And those after-relationships didn't go well...I really don't talk to any of them anymore.  And my last boyfriend...that's a whole other story...so I don't like talking about it, and when it comes up, it brings up an awkward conversation (unless you are Chris or Will) so there's my reasoning...if anybody really wants to know about any of those guys, they can ask...but unless they ask it's locked up in a safe so it doesn't get thrown into conversations or advice I have or give.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-5253070080128422842?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5253070080128422842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=5253070080128422842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5253070080128422842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/5253070080128422842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/reasons-for-my-ways.html' title='Reasons for My Ways...'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-2797359221796235733</id><published>2007-12-22T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T20:07:04.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jealousy</title><content type='html'>According to Dictionary.com, Jealousy is:  vigilance in maintaining or guarding something.&lt;br /&gt;My guy friends definition of Jealousy is:  Do something that will help make that guy want her more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can imagine, it was yet another attempt at Salad.  This time though...it was a completely different situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My school had this pep rally thing for reading on Friday, and right before the pep rally, I had been waiting for Kate and Charlotte who were taking forever and when we finally got out the door, I saw Salad walking down the hall (of course we see each other in the math wing...that's the only place we ever see each other) so I was really excited because that meant he'd be at the pep rally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the pep rally and met up with my all my friends, and near the beginning of the pep rally (after almost giving up hope) I saw Salad, sitting right across the gym from me.  I showed Angie, who in turn pretty much showed everybody else.  So will told Laquan to hug me when Salad was looking so that he would get jealous.  So he did, and then I was trying to explain to the guys that he sees me hugging Aaron everyday and he knows that I hang out with a lot of guys...I doubt he'd get jealous.  Although I did find it funny that the whole time he was listening to his music, not paying attention, while his friend next to him was practically begging him to watch the people dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...if he got jealous...I dunno.  I haven't talked to him yet...I probably could now since he's on myspace but since it is late I'm not going to...but I doubt he's jealous...I doubt he even saw.  He's still hung up on his ex...and I am trying to help him through it...aren't I a good friend? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-2797359221796235733?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/2797359221796235733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=2797359221796235733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2797359221796235733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/2797359221796235733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/jealousy.html' title='Jealousy'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-4936151325392081192</id><published>2007-12-22T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:55:10.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting The Dementors</title><content type='html'>Every other day, I have gym after chem and since soccer is the sport we're playing now, every day Salad and I spend up to a minute...or two talking about how one of us is going to win and it isn't going to be the other person.  (In other words I tell him I'm going to win, he tells me he's going to win)  Friday...that didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad and I barely talked in chem and we didn't play soccer in gym so...yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, since we were having this reading pep rally thing later that day, some people were dressed up, and Wren was dressed up as Hermione Granger, she had a wand and everything.  So my friends and I were playing around.  Laquan was pretending to be Harry Potter and he was going to fight the dementors, and since I had a black sweat jacket I was the dementor, Lara helped me make it look like you could only see my mouth...which was cool...except for the fact that I couldn't see out of the opening, so when Laquan was running I couldn't see where he was running, but when he finally did use the spell, I fell to the ground and it was supposedly hilarious.  Yeah...I have a feeling I won't be living that down for awhile...but it was fun and it definitely passed the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-4936151325392081192?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4936151325392081192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=4936151325392081192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4936151325392081192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/4936151325392081192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/fighting-dementors.html' title='Fighting The Dementors'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-248270872301958608</id><published>2007-12-22T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:46:18.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Math...Math...Math</title><content type='html'>So Thursday we had a sub in math class and Kate and Will weren't talking...so it was definitely a different day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate did her work with Wren and Jazz while I did mine with Will and "Buffoon" which was definitely interesting.  The three of us are terrible together, we are perverted and spend more time laughing and not paying attention than doing anything else.  I think my face was as red as an apple when the class was over.  I'm not going to get into all the details about it because I don't remember much and what I do remember I can't write into a blog...but it was funny so I will let all you readers use your imagination.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-248270872301958608?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/248270872301958608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=248270872301958608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/248270872301958608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/248270872301958608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/mathmathmath.html' title='Math...Math...Math'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-8490385018319989326</id><published>2007-12-22T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:37:28.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently...I still like Salad</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time...a few days ago, I was walking down the math wing to my locker.  Okay...so this was Thursday, but I really was going to my locker...honestly...Will just doesn't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see chem had finished and I was going to homeroom and I decided to go down the nearest staircase (which Salad takes to get to his homeroom) and we were both walking down the hallway (nowhere near each other) and Will saw us, and the minute he saw Salad go into his homeroom he goes up to me and accuses me of stalking Salad, and just as I'm explaining that I was going to my locker which is right nearby, Salad comes out and walks over to us.  Awkward isn't it?  Then Aaron comes over just as I'm explaining to Salad that he isn't interrupting anything important...or anything at all.  So that was...definitely something I wish I had video taped...I mean it wasn't funny...it was just...um...weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then during 7th period, Will accused me of flirting with Salad while he was talking to me...sure I said that I wasn't but now that I think about it, I was...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-8490385018319989326?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8490385018319989326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=8490385018319989326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8490385018319989326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/8490385018319989326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/apparentlyi-still-like-salad.html' title='Apparently...I still like Salad'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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-8308197773008875686.post-3616666606904862253</id><published>2007-12-18T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:55:02.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends...the Weirdos</title><content type='html'>Have I ever mentioned that my friends are weirdos?  The answer:  Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I just did, and it is true.  They are weird!  I love them anyway though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it all started in chem (isn't that where all my interesting stories start?) at the end of class it was the terrible six (that's CoaHR talk for myself, Angie, Aaron, Kate, Frank and Salad) standing in the back of the classroom being idiots.  We talked about shoveling and sleeping...apparently the average person sleeps for half of their lifetime (a little trivia brought to you by Salad) which was a very interesting conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Frank:  I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  There's this little thing called sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  (scoff)  Who has time to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;Frank and Aaron:  (Agree)&lt;br /&gt;Salad:   The average person sleeps for half their lifetime...especially you people.&lt;br /&gt;Kate, Angie and I:  What?&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  (points to herself)  This person sleeps for five hours weekdays!&lt;br /&gt;Salad:  Good for you.&lt;br /&gt;(long silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay...it was funny when I was there...so maybe you have to be there to really understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then before homeroom, I was walking down the hall with Kate, Angie, Frank and Lara when Lara pushed Frank and he ended up falling onto the ground.  It was f-ing hilarious!  During study hall, Angie and I went elsewhere and Angie made fun of our chem teacher right after she left the room!  And when I went downstairs Salad was acting...well I would say stupidly but it was funny and he does that often.  He really just did a funny gesture.  And George during lunch was...definitely a sight.  I promised to give him some pictures on myspace.  But I have to admit they are weirdos...I can't explain it all in words...but they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308197773008875686-3616666606904862253?l=authoressintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3616666606904862253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308197773008875686&amp;postID=3616666606904862253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3616666606904862253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308197773008875686/posts/default/3616666606904862253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://authoressintraining.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-friendsthe-weirdos.html' title='My Friends...the Weirdos'/><author><name>Aly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07322147604372286526</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>
