<?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-4944430939550179829</id><updated>2011-07-08T07:42:05.996+01:00</updated><category term='st. lucia'/><category term='moving'/><category term='reflection'/><category term='commute'/><category term='2009'/><category term='sad'/><category term='glastonbury'/><category term='songs'/><category term='transport'/><category term='rush hour'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='cringe'/><category term='night'/><category term='loss'/><category term='anguish'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='betrayal'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='housemates'/><category term='admiration'/><category term='john travolta'/><category term='cheating'/><category term='buses'/><category term='moan'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='repair'/><category term='lies'/><category term='dating'/><category term='review'/><category term='work'/><category term='sexy'/><category term='amy winehouse'/><category term='happy ending'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='rant'/><category term='job hunt'/><category term='silence'/><category term='lonely'/><category term='stress'/><category term='bad'/><category term='rage'/><category term='admirers'/><category term='crush'/><category term='drunk'/><category term='goals'/><category term='single'/><category term='hyde park'/><category term='happy'/><category term='2007'/><category term='rare'/><category term='faith'/><category term='rejection'/><category term='fears'/><category term='blur'/><category term='life'/><category term='break up'/><category term='compliments'/><category term='flirt'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='tube'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='optimism'/><category term='carrie bradshaw'/><category term='dates'/><category term='Resolutions'/><category term='2006'/><category term='men'/><category term='fix'/><category term='independence'/><category term='strangers'/><category term='love'/><category term='stupid'/><title type='text'>My Thought Bubble</title><subtitle type='html'>little me... sharing my big thoughts!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-6347913221379773736</id><published>2010-08-03T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T23:22:53.246+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job hunt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weddings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='glastonbury'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>4 months is a long time in Bloggers Land</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;AND I'm soooooooooooooooooooo sorry &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last 5 months have been a roller coaster for me. Emotional all over the shop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In &lt;b&gt;APRIL&lt;/b&gt; I fell in Love. All together now... Ahhhh :) Yes it's true. I am madly in love with my boyfriend and things are going from strength to strength but there are some all might dips. Healthy. Apparently!&lt;br /&gt;He also met my parents in the same month and boy did they love him. Never seen them laugh so much. *Phew*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MAY&lt;/b&gt; was when I realised that everyone is really growing up and settling down. 3 Friends got married and it was beautiful seeing how in love and happy they are. 30 is slowly creeping up on me and everyone I know is getting wed. That's growing up far too fast for me! I'm only just getting used to living away from Mum and Dad's ( which I LOVE by the way!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comedy and Music filled up my &lt;b&gt;JUNE&lt;/b&gt;. I saw Jason Manford at the Udderbelly on South Bank. A genius idea that originally started at the Edinburgh Fringe and a bunch of comedians at a charity gig for REPRIVE&lt;a href="http://www.reprieve.org.uk"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both were great gigs. Jason Manford was hilarious and I'm still quoting a few of his jokes, which I'm sure he would be flattered about, unless he knew which ones they were!&lt;br /&gt;As for the Reprive gig, pricey show but amazing cause and I was very priviledge to enjoy the works of Stewart Lee, Robin Ince, Phill Jupitus and the alluring Tim Minchin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The musical side of my June was Glastonbury or Glastonberry as our American Friends like to call it. 4 days of ridiculously HOT sunshine and cider. BRILLIANT! It was an amazing time. I got to introduce my 2 best friends to the randomness of Glasto. They are used to Reading ( the Rock Festival) but this struck a different chord with them. The random outlets open until 3am, being able to carry your own booze about, the karaoke bar which Vanilla Ice himself, oh yes... VANILLA ICE made a guest appearance at! (Ooo Evis knows how to win the crowds!), the sheer size of this festival meant they fell in love with the whole atmosphere and vibe of Glastonbury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;JULY&lt;/b&gt; well it's only just passed as by. I experience the randomness of Jack Whitehall (the posh bloke from the telly, yes yes! *rolls eyes*). Captivating and bloody funny! Would deffo recommend him and finally I experienced Manchester's nightlife! All I'm saying is that Jaeger Bombs, Rose and the Pyramid Game don't mix but make a bloody good weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to all the positive emotions from my Tomfoolery, there were some negatives. Work is a big bummer. 7 months of solid job hunting, 1 interview, 0 job offer :( &lt;br /&gt;I'm finding so hard to motivate myself at work and then finding jobs that I am not qualified to do. I'm being told to take a chance, but why would they look at my CV over someone with the qualifications/experience.&lt;br /&gt;Anyone got any advice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's a brief catch up on my life! Sorry it wasn't very thoughtful and insightful like some of my previous blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise not to leave you so long next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So until then, ENJOY your Summer! xxx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-6347913221379773736?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/6347913221379773736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=6347913221379773736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6347913221379773736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6347913221379773736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2010/08/4-months-is-long-time-in-bloggers-land.html' title='4 months is a long time in Bloggers Land'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-1765278970674242502</id><published>2010-03-01T22:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-03-01T22:57:08.876Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='optimism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fears'/><title type='text'>Optimism.Lacks.</title><content type='html'>I don’t know what is wrong with me. &lt;br /&gt;My relationship is going from strength to strength and I am falling for my man slowly but almost certainly.&lt;br /&gt;He loves me unconditionally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I find myself glum.&lt;br /&gt;I find myself searching for other ways to be happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the biggest culprit is work. &lt;br /&gt;It tires me. &lt;br /&gt;Not in the way it should.&lt;br /&gt;I work my arse off&lt;br /&gt;But for no reward or praise or thanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manager has no management skills&lt;br /&gt;My manager has no understanding of the demands laid upon us by our clients. &lt;br /&gt;And throws her demands on top&lt;br /&gt;Then moans we aren’t doing out jobs properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to move on&lt;br /&gt;Develop myself. Grow.&lt;br /&gt;But recently, I went for a new job role which I had never done before. &lt;br /&gt;To be rejected after 3 interviews&lt;br /&gt;For having too much experience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing makes sense at the mo&lt;br /&gt;I’m scared about the future&lt;br /&gt;I have fears regarding financial stability&lt;br /&gt;Optimism to date is the lowest its been for sometime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea where to go&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what to do&lt;br /&gt;Or where to run to&lt;br /&gt;Or where to hide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under the duvet seems the best place&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-1765278970674242502?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/1765278970674242502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=1765278970674242502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1765278970674242502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1765278970674242502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2010/03/optimismlacks.html' title='Optimism.Lacks.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-5389197062562477002</id><published>2009-12-24T23:47:00.014Z</published><updated>2009-12-26T21:36:33.761Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Turning the Frown, Upside Down</title><content type='html'>Last time I blogged, I was low and lonely.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure what happened after I wrote that because I seemed to pick myself up and had the courage to go on a date once again.&lt;br /&gt;I was very nervous. Not quite sure what I'd let myself in for as he seemed quite a Jack-the-Lad. Maybe another bad apple to screw up my head!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was running late. Quite late in fact. Stuck in the rush hour traffic. I had to find time to kill, which I did quite easily. Its amazing how time flies when you shop! ;)&lt;br /&gt;We met at a pub and it was a little awkward at first... probably as expected&lt;br /&gt;but The date was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt so at ease within minutes.&lt;br /&gt;I had an instant attraction to this big beaming smile and friendly exterior.&lt;br /&gt;A few drinks in a pub. Watched a couple of low key bands in a intimate venue. Then moved on to a bar with a jam session.&lt;br /&gt;Drinks flowed, laughter, stories which equated to no awkward silences and not wanting to say Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six weeks on, I am in a great relationship with someone who seems to be besotted with me and I am besotted with him.&lt;br /&gt;For me it's still very much the honeymoon period, wanting to spend every moment with him and always be in contact but for him, he says it's beyond that and he couldn't be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He always makes me smile and is so caring and has many other wonderful qualities about him which makes me feel I'm on to a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping 2010 brings me new experiences, excitement, joy and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;*Merry Christmas one and all and here's to a wonderful 2010*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-5389197062562477002?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/5389197062562477002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=5389197062562477002' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5389197062562477002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5389197062562477002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/12/turning-frown-upside-down.html' title='Turning the Frown, Upside Down'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-6429150751947555614</id><published>2009-10-15T21:20:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T21:31:43.579+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts Scribbled on Paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SteGVRTtuGI/AAAAAAAAACQ/h_rEBnwNiPo/s1600-h/n501943299_1084521_650.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SteGVRTtuGI/AAAAAAAAACQ/h_rEBnwNiPo/s320/n501943299_1084521_650.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392926778780924002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found some thoughts scribbled on a piece of paper, I remember when I wrote them. I was taking photos from dusk to nightfall in London at the beginning of the year and emotions started to run through me and I wanted to jot them down... so I did. It's brief but to the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;"I'm so stupidly emotional right now in a vibrant buzzing city on my own. It's big and I'm so small. It's beautiful and I feel like I'm in my own world. Alone. I stroll through the empty train station, to board the empty train home. No one else in my carriage but me and the discarded free sheets. I rest my head against the wall but how I wish it was someone's shoulder. Someone to call my own."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-6429150751947555614?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/6429150751947555614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=6429150751947555614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6429150751947555614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6429150751947555614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/10/thoughts-scribbled-on-paper.html' title='Thoughts Scribbled on Paper'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SteGVRTtuGI/AAAAAAAAACQ/h_rEBnwNiPo/s72-c/n501943299_1084521_650.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-6092675100327778310</id><published>2009-10-06T21:22:00.014+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T22:20:01.596+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='independence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='housemates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><title type='text'>A letter to you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SsuxebUSnZI/AAAAAAAAACI/L71-w0OsDdM/s1600-h/rbon958l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 276px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SsuxebUSnZI/AAAAAAAAACI/L71-w0OsDdM/s320/rbon958l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389596515365985682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while sorry. I've not had much to say as not much has happened over the last few months. Just the usual man trouble with them tugging at my heart strings and creating a leash to lead me on with. It's sad to report that nothing has changed there and I wish I could bring you happier news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have however taken a big leap and moved away from home. It's the first time I have lived away from my parents. Oh yeah, I'm a big girl now! I can't say I miss it as I actually like moving at my own pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live with 5 others. Someone I know, a kiwi couple and 2 irish girls. All professional people with lovely personalities bar one who grates and has habits which are unexplainable.&lt;br /&gt;I have only lived here two/three weeks and I am already baffled by what she thinks and does, well basically functions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- She moans how the house is a bit dirty, yet she makes the most mess!&lt;br /&gt;- She buys loads of weight-watchers food, yet eats massive slices of cake with her hands!&lt;br /&gt;- She said she slipped in the shower and as a consequence  wears flipflops in there now.. surely that aids the hazard!&lt;br /&gt;and they are just a few examples that come part and parcel of a house share and make it fun and exciting.&lt;br /&gt;We all have a good laugh. We've been playing the LoveKnob game. Kirsty, my housemate I know, has been playing a game at work where we sing a song with the word Love in it, but replace it with Knob.&lt;br /&gt;So for example, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"can you feel the knob tonight!" "knob, knob me do!" &lt;/span&gt;Genius Eh!&lt;br /&gt;This game keeps us amused at dinner times and when we wash up. It is odd to find yourself singing the word knob to 5 people you rarely know but a good bonding exercise all the same :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a big change there. Miss Independent I will be :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, work is begin to absorb my every emotion and turning me into a lifeless soul. I'm sure I've explained before but to recap, I work for a hotel and sell the conference and meeting rooms for various types of events. One naturally busy period is Christmas and this has been assigned to me to look after. So I need to throw myself full force into contact a 400-strong database and get people in the door.&lt;br /&gt;However it's October and I have done nothing, due to lack of support from all angles. I am under ridiculous about of pressure and could easily work 12 hour shifts equipped with a can of red bull and a jumbo chocolate bar.&lt;br /&gt;I'm working all kinds of extra hours at no pay and with 10 weeks til xmas and targets to meet, beat and exceed, I think I have flopped already.&lt;br /&gt;I can't find the time or motivation to focus and it makes me very sad and blue. Not the best mood to be in to excel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope all is well with you and I am sorry this as been a mix of the happy yet sad, but if you have any words of encouragement to get me through, why not write back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to hear from you soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-6092675100327778310?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/6092675100327778310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=6092675100327778310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6092675100327778310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6092675100327778310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='A letter to you...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SsuxebUSnZI/AAAAAAAAACI/L71-w0OsDdM/s72-c/rbon958l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-1599571448189340689</id><published>2009-08-09T20:56:00.015+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T21:29:55.935+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rejection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy ending'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>Loosing Faith in a Happy Ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;[penned on Saturday 8th August]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;This isn't going to be part of a mini-series about loosing something, just coincidental Blog Titles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm Loosing the faith in finding someone and which ever way I approach the dating game I seem to do something wrong...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I ask for advice on certain dating situations and end up being criticized. Now don't get me wrong, I need and appreciate the advice as I take it on board as I trust those who have given me advice as I know they care and love me and want me to be happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;One bit of advice I've received is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"Don't give your heart away to soon. Keep those emotional feelings under wrap. Don't reveal yourself too soon!"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sounds like an ancient proverb but it's just my mate Nick!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;SO I take this into consideration in my life as a confident (hmm), young (kinda) single person which I've currently been for nearly a year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I met someone about April time. He's a great guy! Caring, funny, fun, just amazing and we've have the best dates! He was also very open and willing but I've held my cards close to my chest, not giving too much away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;However, now I feel I may have lost him. Feelings grew and I tried to open up more by subtlety letting him know how I feel. I think I may have dropped the ball. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;He's vacant and not as proactive as he used to be. I know he's been busy and work has been tough for him which I have taken into consideration whilst venting this frustration. We met a few days ago, few ciders, nice meal, a visit to his new flat. All fantastic, however since that.. 1 text. Just 1. Normally he sends 2 or 3 a day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;He revealed during this lovely evening of ours that his ex has been in touch. *ALARM BELLS!* She's been texting him, saying things he's wanted to hear months ago to which he even said to me "It's not fair as I've been trying to get on with my life".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I'm left in the dark wondering do I continue with this and adding to the fact I have proper feelings for him and I know i'm going to blub if he doesn't want to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;A sensitive soul I am&lt;/span&gt;, but this why the likes of Nick are trying to protect me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;So 5 days on after this evening of ours I have had 1 text from him saying he had a great time and we will see each other soon. Another text in my drafts with the dreaded question that could end something great. And a text from the best mate telling me to drop it and not to get involved as the ex is on the scene. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;What do I do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Being messed about or led on seems to be my thing. Like football is to Beckham (bad analogy I know). I meet someone. It's great and then, Bye Bye but for an unknown reason. Guys who i've had things with or close guy mates are always like 'your a catch' '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/04/tale-of-nearly-marrieds.html"&gt;if I wasn't married...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;' 'it surprises me you have no one'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;YEAH! Cheers for that!&lt;/span&gt; and that's why I am loosing the faith in becoming eternally happy in a relationship or meeting Mr. Right and becoming Mrs. Right and that statement seems even more poignant in a time when my friends are getting married or have/having children. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess instead of looking for Mr. Right now, I should be looking for&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;restoration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-1599571448189340689?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/1599571448189340689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=1599571448189340689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1599571448189340689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1599571448189340689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/08/loosing-faith-in-happy-ending.html' title='Loosing Faith in a Happy Ending'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-6495249301093227241</id><published>2009-07-21T21:10:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T22:27:05.837+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='repair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fix'/><title type='text'>Loosing the Friend Focus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Recently I've realised that I am possibly neglecting some people very close to me.&lt;br /&gt;I can't quite put my finger on why.&lt;br /&gt;Things do get hectic. The 9-5 absorbs your energy and spark. You get wrapped and and loose focus. You receive texts that take hours or maybe days to reply to as you just naturally forget because of the hustle and bustle around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This came to light when a friend kind of mislead me about her birthday plans. She told me the date that she would do something and kept it clear in the diary. The Thursday before I hadn't heard anything, so I texted her. I got a reply saying that she was going for a quiet meal.&lt;br /&gt;This in fact is a lie.&lt;br /&gt;She went out for her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;She got very drunk on her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;How do I know?&lt;br /&gt;My best mate went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it could be a simple explanation like, she doesn't think I'm 'cool' enough to hang out with her other circle of friends. Maybe she doesn't class me as a good or best friend any more.&lt;br /&gt;I hope it's the first and not the latter.&lt;br /&gt;If it is the latter, then some big changes need to start happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel I'm quite fortunate that I make friends. I like to socialise and meet new people and as great as this sounds, it's a flaw.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to many invites and you have to let people down. But sometimes you sit alone looking at what all your other friends are doing through a computer screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've seen status updates and uploaded photos of events and days out that my friends and our mutual friends hitting the beach, going in to town and I always think.. Oh!Where was my invite.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe that's it.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm not worthy of an invite as I've been a bad friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;NEED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to change this. I need to fix or repair the missing connections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure where to begin to&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;regain focus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-6495249301093227241?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/6495249301093227241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=6495249301093227241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6495249301093227241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6495249301093227241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/07/loosing-friend-focus.html' title='Loosing the Friend Focus'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-1992517166306908639</id><published>2009-07-04T12:12:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T12:16:12.986+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hyde park'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='glastonbury'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blur'/><title type='text'>Blur at Glastobury &amp; Hyde Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3  style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3  style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Blur at Glastonbury &amp;amp; Hyde Park have essentially made my summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was never a massive blur fan when they came out, as I was a youngster and my friends where crushing over the latest pop boy band but I eventually discovered Blur through the Great Escape album and have loved them ever since. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;        &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm no die hard fan but I am a fan and I have never felt more like a fan until the last week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The Euphoria at Glastonbury (or 'Glastonberry' as our American friends would say) was immense. Everyone eager and ready to go to sing along to those classics we all love. The crowd was a mix of those, Brit Pop Boys &amp;amp; Girls, the older generation who appreciate a good band or two, people like myself who have never seen Blur live before and the 90's kids; the ones that discover the best bands of our times whilst knowing every new band that appears in NME.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The audience sang every song, bounced, jigged and moved. Teenage Crushes reformed. Blur were back and it was like they were never gone. When Damon broke down and had a little sob, we all felt for him. It must felt incredible with Thousands and Thousands of people singing your song long after the song had finished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Amazing Fans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hyde Park was just as amazing. With the sun blazing down, the boys came out with energy, passion and determination. The raw emotions were still there teamed up with a whole lot of love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I got whipped up in the energy, riffs, chants and tunes and finished the show close to tears during 'The Universal'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Seeing Blur twice in 5 days, makes me want to see them all over again and the whole experience can only be summed up with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I. HEART.  BLUR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-1992517166306908639?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/1992517166306908639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=1992517166306908639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1992517166306908639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/1992517166306908639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/07/blur-at-glastobury-hyde-park.html' title='Blur at Glastobury &amp; Hyde Park'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-5993898271929403851</id><published>2009-05-24T11:25:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T21:53:28.942+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silence'/><title type='text'>Silence of the Dates</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Franz Ferdinand hit the nail on the head when they sang "No you Boys never care, how the girl feels!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes it's another blog with me moaning about men and why I just don't understand the way they work. Recently, I guess I can say, I've been quite lucky. I've met a few guys. Everything seems to be great and there is talk of meeting again and then *silence*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm convinced it must be me! On date, I insist on buying drinks, or halving the bill at a meal. I insist on be comfortable, not going somewhere were we don't have to pretend to be something we are not. I don't expect him to travel several miles to meet me, I'm happy to meet in the middle. So of course... It must be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm rambling on, I might as well give you the story behind the most recent tale behind "Silence of the Dates".&lt;br /&gt;In fact in this example, we didn't even get to the date! Me and this guy arranged to meet on Saturday a week ago. No set plans, but a definite date. In the week we started making plans, started to decide what to do, where to meet and where to go. Thursday, the plans were still not set and the texts between us consisted of, " I can't wait to see you!" "I'm really looking forward to Saturday!"&lt;br /&gt;Great, you would think. Until I texted him on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;I texted him 3 times. Once in the morning. Once in the early evening and the final time at 1115pm.&lt;br /&gt;No reply to any of them. I was suppose to be seeing him the next day. I didn't know what to do. A few minutes later he logged on to MSN and Facebook chat and promptly signed off again.&lt;br /&gt;There is no reasonable explanation for the ignorance. I don't know what I did wrong. Even one of my best male friends said that he is baffled. Why go to the effort, for nothing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just 1 of many silences I've experienced after dates. About a month ago, I dated a guy who I knew was crazy about me. He looked at me in a certain way, kept in constant ­contact with lots of texts, calls for no reason, texts chasing replies to his previous texts.&lt;br /&gt;We had one date, it was great, Chemistry bouncing of the walls, lots of flirty remarks and touches. Promises that we will do this all again next week and then *bam!* He changed. Communication slowed down, almost to a halt! We still arranged a second date and he was 'sick' on the day.&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly it was all over. I have no clue whether or not he was lying.&lt;br /&gt;But I still think about it. I mean, Why did he say he liked me if he didn’t? Why did he arrange a second date and then stop talking to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men, if you are reading this. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;BE HONEST!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If you don't want to see us, tell us! We'd rather you be honest and then we can have a cry and a bitch over that rather than cry and bitch over the unknown and work us into a emotion mess and stalk your facebook/twitter/bebo/myspace/[enter social networking site] profile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honesty, is, in most respects, the best policy!&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/4944430939550179829-5993898271929403851?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/5993898271929403851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=5993898271929403851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5993898271929403851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5993898271929403851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/05/silence-of-dates.html' title='Silence of the Dates'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-7909551194553729382</id><published>2009-04-26T19:38:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T20:19:41.242+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='betrayal'/><title type='text'>The Tale of the Nearly Married's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The Nearly Marrieds - The Greek God, The Northern Monkey and the Indie Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;The Greek God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;The unconventional choice of lust. A guy from the internet. We've met twice, snogged once. He then after told me he was with his then girlfriend, now soon-to-be wife - Mrs Greek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careless move, YES. But I was none the wiser! We speak every now and then on MSN and every time after the niceties of "How are you?" " How's work, your nan and your fish" the messages are "Nice Pic! Looking Hot. Reminds me of that time when.... "&lt;br /&gt;HELL NO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;All he wants is pictures and my take on the memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flattered, Naturally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;The Northern Monkey&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Another not so great choice of someone to fancy. He's a guy on the phone. A business associate. Someone who I have never seen in person. We speak through the channels of work and is a MAJOR flirt. He wants to send me pictures to show off. Yes, show off...! Shocking I know. This guy who is sooooo in love wants to send me a picture of his thing. Even though he is cocky (excuse the pun) with his confidence he is actual very nice to me and pays me compliment that I don't get (not even from exs).&lt;br /&gt;But this doesn't excuse the betrayal to his love, his fiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best of the 3 is the Indie Boy. A tragic tale of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Indie Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;He's the one I have the most history with. If you like, we dated.. kind of. A few dates and stuff. There was intimacy. I was totally into him and he was into me or so I thought. A few months after it all went wrong, he started dating the future Mrs. Indie Boy.&lt;br /&gt;So in love that they got engaged after about 8 months and are due to marry this May.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, since their engagement he is obviously not as in love as he thinks.&lt;br /&gt;This guy is like a dog on heat and don't I know it!&lt;br /&gt;Every MSN conversation, private facebook message is him wanting to reminise over the good times. The times that get him excited and wanna work it off. He requests pictures, dirty talk and when i confront him with a blindingly OBVIOUS statement of "Do you not love her??" I get, "Of course I do, but there's something about you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;These Nearly Married's strike fear and dash the hopes of any single girl. How can we meet men and trust them when these 3 examples of men who have proposed to their dearly beloved and want to commit the rest of there lives to Momogamy are breaking the boundaries of flirting. What worries me is that these ladies who are marrying the most AMAZING man they have ever met do not know what is going on when they are not around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I find and meet someone when there maybe a chance that under the sweet exterior and the person you have got to love and know, that they will not do that to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;h1 id="firstHeading" class="firstHeading"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-7909551194553729382?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/7909551194553729382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=7909551194553729382' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/7909551194553729382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/7909551194553729382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/04/tale-of-nearly-marrieds.html' title='The Tale of the Nearly Married&apos;s'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-8211050351427804740</id><published>2009-04-01T21:29:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T22:12:37.975+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='commute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rush hour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anguish'/><title type='text'>Anguished Commuters Unite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;Rush Hour!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Gr! How we all hate it! We bottle the rage, the thoughts and emotions and just hope that we don't snap at the stupid man with the protruding rucksack or the women with the constant hair flicks.&lt;br /&gt;Packed like Sardines, grabbing on to anything that stops you from falling over.. the price we pay to get paid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for me, I rarely have to stand during rush hour but from the comfort of my warn seat I see the other commuters snarling at one another, biting their tongues. Tonight was slightly different.&lt;br /&gt;There was vocal rage! The train was 10 min late, the train had half the carriages it was suppose too. Cries of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CAN YOU MOVE DOWN PLEASE&lt;/span&gt; were repeated over and over with bangs on the glass from the platform.&lt;br /&gt;Generally most commuters are considerate, we move down, we make space etc... and tonight the train had considerate commuters. This however did not satisfy the ones who could not get on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Blackfriars, a voice bellowed; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Look, will you just move down, I KNOW you can!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;To which a lady, calmly responded.&lt;br /&gt;"And to where would you like me to move sir?"&lt;br /&gt;Heads emerged from papers, heads turn to look at this women.&lt;br /&gt;She continues... "There is no where to move to. There is nothing to hold on to. So please, where would you like me to move to"&lt;br /&gt;The voice never responded to the lady's questions. his head hung ashamed, however this prompted the ladies around her to laugh at the request to move down to and lightened the mood for just a few moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next station was worse, London Bridge, people squeezed their way off to be replaced by more huffs and puffs and requests to move down. Mumbles of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"this is ridiculous!" &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"there's a space there"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;were heard.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The doors slowly closed like you trying to zip up the flies on that extremely tight pair of jeans you own. Big Breathes in by everyone and then..the mood breaks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;[Cockney Accent] "I'm s'pose to be goin' Ally-Canty [Alicante] Mate, this is F**king Bollocks!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fantastic! A laughter erupts. The cockney geezer continues to engage in banter and those around make small talk. I find it amazing, that how that one vocal opinion in that confined  situation and space, unites our anguish us as we feel what each other feel and think what each other think ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Out Loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-8211050351427804740?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/8211050351427804740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=8211050351427804740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/8211050351427804740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/8211050351427804740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/04/anguished-commuters-unite.html' title='Anguished Commuters Unite'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-285288435549032609</id><published>2009-03-29T15:18:00.027+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T16:32:31.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while... The pain of Lust and Rejection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's been a bloody long while since I wrote one of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Blog-Block.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Lack of inspiration maybe as my life seems to have grinded to a halt with everyones lives taking off around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;25&lt;/span&gt;. It's not a scary age. It's quite a fun enjoyable age until you start to wonder where your headed. There are so many people around me who are pregnant or getting wed, the majority being my age or younger. Along with this people have their own places (rented or buying).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I want all this. Not right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Right now, I just would love to meet someone. Share interests and passions with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One day, I guess that will happen. When it all stops getting so confusing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;Seriously&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;when did it all get so confusing. Meeting someone and dating them. It's all caught up with what to do and not to do. When to call and when not to call. Many years it ago, it used to be the simple case of, you liked someone, you went to a date and then you became bf &amp;amp; gf. (you may have even skipped the date part!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On Friday, I went out with some friends. One of them being a guy I met through a friend just over a year ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I like this guy. I met him Jan last year. I instantly fancied him, his charming persona, blue eyes and creativeness. The next time I saw him, I was with my then boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6 months later we both split and few months later, I saw the object of my lust again. He knew that I wasn't in a relationship any more and he was a bit flirty and very attentive but in a friendly way. Pondering on that evening events and seeking the advice of the mutual friend that we were introduced through, a week or so later I built up the courage to ask him out for a drink (he's a bit shy).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He said he'd love too but he was in a weird place with his ex... blah blah blah... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The drink never happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bummed as I was, he invited me to his house party in Dec which I went to. It was great fun but he didn't really speak to me, which I put down to his networking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He flew to the states a few days later to see the ex to sort stuff, from which he came back in Jan, I texted him many weeks later to see how he was etc. (in a way testing the water, to see whether it was worth trying to get him to come for a drink). He said it was great and things were sorted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought nothing more of it, thought not to pursue it any more as, well if he liked me he would of done something by now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So, the crux of it all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Friday night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We went out for his band mates surprise birthday. Again, he was flirting, kept looking at me and smiling... la di da... (think the booze had a lot to do with it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And we was on the dance floor and the moment seemed soooo right, I went to kiss him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He sort of leaned in, as I leaned in and then he said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"NO NO! I can't. Sorry. It's so hard, I kinda have a gf!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wounded, I said "Oh. No worries"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He just kept saying sorry and he's not quite sure if they are together and he couldn't kiss me. Which is fair enough. (This potential new beau is a new girl on the scene, not the ex in America)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, we carried on dancing, like nothing happened, I felt like a div. but didn't wanna show it bothered me. He kept hugging me and saying and my timing sucks! (I'm sure in a nice way)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I texted him saying "I'm so sorry . I took a chance. Big heartfelt SORRY"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He pulled me to one side and revealed that he's liked me since we met and there has been many occasions where he's wanted to kiss me but the time has never been right and one day the timing will be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt; perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If things where so much simpler, this never would of happened. I'm not gonna wait around and think &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;WHAT IF!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; but, I can't stop thinking about him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The pain of Lust and Rejection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-285288435549032609?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/285288435549032609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=285288435549032609' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/285288435549032609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/285288435549032609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-been-while-pain-of-lust-and.html' title='It&apos;s been a while... The pain of Lust and Rejection'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-133760533529452749</id><published>2009-02-01T18:12:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-02T13:39:03.943Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carrie bradshaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rush hour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tube'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='transport'/><title type='text'>Rantsville</title><content type='html'>So at the moment I feel like Carrie Bradshaw, sitting in bed with a cup of tea writing away. &lt;br /&gt;However I’m ill and have no voice. &lt;br /&gt;This week has been very very strange. I am still reeling from a potential mistake I made when drunk last weekend and on Wednesday, well my morning began with many rants. Maybe that’s why I now have no voice! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I wanted to share my rants with ‘you’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant Numbero uno began on the bus. Now if you’re reading this and you are from London, you would have started to notice the recent Modernisation of our Buses. These include automated voice announcements for the next stop, new and improved CCTV, which you can sit an watch if your on the lower deck but the most recent modernisation that I have encountered is Automated Announcements asking us to ‘move down’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Wednesday, I boarded the bus to take me to the train station. Each stop after the one where I got on, this ‘Move Down the Bus’ announcement was played. At first you obeyed and then after a while it just got ridiculously annoying that you are being told what to do... BY A RECORDING!&lt;br /&gt;1 stop before I was due to get off, the bus driver would not move until everyone had moved down the bus. I had moved all the way to the back of the bus to stand but there was nowhere else to move to yet, he kept playing it. ‘Move down the Bus’&lt;br /&gt;‘Please Move down the Bus’&lt;br /&gt;‘Please Move down the Bus’&lt;br /&gt;‘Please Move down the Bus’&lt;br /&gt;‘Please Move down the Bus’&lt;br /&gt;In the end me and this other man sat in these two available seats at the back of the bus, that we didn’t want to sit in as we were getting off at the next stop.&lt;br /&gt;We look and sighed at one another as the bus moved. &lt;br /&gt;That look and that sigh said a lot. It said that we don’t want to be pushed around by an automated voice. We’re our own people god dammit! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this leads on to RANT 2. Due this stupid bus driver, I missed my train. So I had to find my self an alternative route to work. I boarded the next Rush-hour Express to London and I stood next to this couple who were seated. I like to people watch but there was something annoying about the girl in this couple that I couldn’t take my eyes off. &lt;br /&gt;So there she was bored and fidgety. He was asleep. She kept picking up his ipod and looking at it. About ten minutes later, he stirred from his sleep. And she ripped the headphones from his ears and took his ipod!&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t believe what she did. He tried to protest but she’d already plug the headphones in her ears smirking!&lt;br /&gt;She caught my glare and I gave her a really disapproving look. Like the ones your mum used to give you when you stole a sweetie from the pick n mix. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That my friend is the kind of behaviour I can’t condone in a relationship. That man needs to grow some balls. &lt;br /&gt;So cue Rant 3…. A short one. About the tube. Because this bus driver made me unnecessarily sit down before moving the bus, this made me miss my train and witness a bloke clearly under the thumb, which meant I had to get the tube (which I don’t normally need to do to get to work). Now I am considerate commuter. Admittedly, yes I do storm passed dawdlers and try and get on carriage before others but at least I don’t invade personal space and hit them.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea. &lt;br /&gt;You guessed it&lt;br /&gt;I got hit. Hit in the head! &lt;br /&gt;This dude who I was squished as a sardine against decided mid journey to change arms and as he did… he hit me in the head!&lt;br /&gt;No Sorry. No acknowledgement! Nothing! Ignorant F**k!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant 4 is about a really stupid client I am dealing with at work and my contact started with her the same day that all this crazy ranting started. This lady calls wanting a quotation. When I am taking an enquiry I have to obtain as much detail as possible to ensure we are the right venue for what they want. Every time I tried to ask her something she would give me more information but not what I asked for and insisting on sending me an email. I agreed this was a good idea, because by this point she was getting on my tits! So I gave her my email address and direct line and tried to finish the call by telling her I was looking forward to receiving her email.&lt;br /&gt;She responded to this with well, I’m not going to send you the email unless you have the availability. I expressed that I did have the availability as I had already previously advised. Yet she still carried on giving me details. After much to-ing and fro-ing the call ended and she was sending me that all important email. &lt;br /&gt;That email never reached my inbox until the next day and an hour into my day she was hounding me for a reply. &lt;br /&gt;A few hours later I sent her a quotation and she called me shortly afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;Now I have to try and be respectful to my clients but this woman is a total idiot. She wanted me to total up all the costs as another venue had done so. &lt;br /&gt;Seriously, what the hell! Can she not use a calculator! I mean how hard is it to times the number of people by the price!&lt;br /&gt;Honestly! People like this I do not have the time for! &lt;br /&gt;*sigh!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all this week was manic:&lt;br /&gt;Monday started with feelings of guilt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I was let down by an estate agent who can’t make appointments correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday was the day of ranting! Although I did have my annual review that went particularly well. No pay rise though due to this pigging recession! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, nothing amazing happened really besides some general good flirting and banter on MSN with my subject of guilt (see above and Monday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday... went out locally with two of my best mates and ended up drunkenly snogging a 22 year old! Eeeeeek! (He’s my brothers’ age, it’s just so not right!) And I started to loose my voice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday... well the voice was getting worse. Weekend in with Hot Drinks, Cough Mixture &amp; throat sweets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today… No voice! Just about getting out a whisper! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all, a week of pretty strange events!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-133760533529452749?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/133760533529452749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=133760533529452749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/133760533529452749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/133760533529452749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/02/rantsville.html' title='Rantsville'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-8961789500831057091</id><published>2009-01-11T15:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T21:03:15.927Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='john travolta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='st. lucia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amy winehouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cringe'/><title type='text'>Amy Winehouse New Look Bares a Striking Resemblance!</title><content type='html'>&lt;big&gt;So our papers have had a topless Amy Winehouse cavorting on the beaches of St. Lucia with a hunk .... but am I the only that has notice that the new, healthier looking Amy Winehouse is bearing a STRIKING Resemblance to a young John Travolta??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evidence Attached!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;*cringe time!&lt;/b&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWoVJ9eFA-I/AAAAAAAAABQ/CgyLodGsDFI/s1600-h/nonono2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWoVJ9eFA-I/AAAAAAAAABQ/CgyLodGsDFI/s320/nonono2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290063973163795426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-8961789500831057091?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/8961789500831057091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=8961789500831057091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/8961789500831057091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/8961789500831057091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/01/amy-winehouse-new-look-bares-striking.html' title='Amy Winehouse New Look Bares a Striking Resemblance!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWoVJ9eFA-I/AAAAAAAAABQ/CgyLodGsDFI/s72-c/nonono2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-415830682251797089</id><published>2009-01-10T22:45:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-01-10T23:13:40.590Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='compliments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flirt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><title type='text'>Tummy Fuzz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If you're a girl reading this then you'll probably completely be able to associate yourself with the way I feel at the moment and will understand what I mean by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Tummy Fuzz&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The best way to describe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Tummy Fuzz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;is when a you get that feeling in your belly when a guy you know, who you have a crush* on or like/love says things that make your stomach flip and you get that fuzzy feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's warm and cute and that one lil sentence or phrase makes you feel all sexy and girly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This happened to me tonight. A guy who I've know for about a year started flirting with me over messenger and he's given me really cute compliments all night. Things that not even boyfriends have said to me before ... and that gave me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Tummy Fuzz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;. Silly things like, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I forgot how big your eyes are"&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;*fuzz* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It made me feel sexy and girly and wanted and that's rare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I don't know where our flirting is gonna go but I am hoping it is more than just chat and that something might happen as he makes me feel the happiest I've been in months... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;xxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;*Sorry for the Teenage vocab!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-415830682251797089?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/415830682251797089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=415830682251797089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/415830682251797089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/415830682251797089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/01/tummy-fuzz.html' title='Tummy Fuzz'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-5690661397323054603</id><published>2009-01-04T10:28:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:57:10.807Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resolutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2009'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>Resolutions...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new year. new resolutions… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new year of striving to fulfil our resolutions that we more than likely will forget. &lt;br /&gt;We will make ones that are potentially unattainable, ones that would make us feel like we've achieved something, ones to enhance appearance and ones to create a better lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen an old style postcard from many many many many many moons ago. I think it’s great, I love it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWKDf0hk9wI/AAAAAAAAABI/jUEWKB-szcM/s1600-h/resolve.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWKDf0hk9wI/AAAAAAAAABI/jUEWKB-szcM/s320/resolve.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287933495185045250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I feel I should share my resolutions with you. I think they are realistic and achievable, what do you reckon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Attend at Photography course&lt;br /&gt;2. Move Out&lt;br /&gt;3. Go to Edinburgh&lt;br /&gt;4. Spend more time with my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think they are achievable and if I do them, I will have fulfilled a desire and need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have chosen some resolutions, Good luck in your quest!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-5690661397323054603?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/5690661397323054603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=5690661397323054603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5690661397323054603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5690661397323054603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SWKDf0hk9wI/AAAAAAAAABI/jUEWKB-szcM/s72-c/resolve.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-2871573011046019787</id><published>2008-12-21T03:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:08:21.945Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='admirers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='admiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='single'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drunk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonely'/><title type='text'>f*@£ing alcohol!</title><content type='html'>OK! It's twenty to three!&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why vodka and southern comfort makes me act like a div.&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt more stupid and lonely as I do now.&lt;br /&gt;everyone is with someone!&lt;br /&gt;wtf!&lt;br /&gt;no far... even my wrk mate fancies someone on voice value!&lt;br /&gt;fucking annoys me!&lt;br /&gt;I'm a nice girl with good intentions... why can't know one see that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-2871573011046019787?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/2871573011046019787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=2871573011046019787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/2871573011046019787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/2871573011046019787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2008/12/fing-alcohol.html' title='f*@£ing alcohol!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-2580537891388712980</id><published>2008-12-14T19:45:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-14T20:32:11.138Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strangers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drunk'/><title type='text'>It's not so bad to speak to Strangers at night</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMich%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="time"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Trebuchet MS"; 	panose-1:2 11 6 3 2 2 2 2 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:swiss; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:647 0 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;} span.blsp-spelling-error 	{mso-style-name:blsp-spelling-error;} span.blsp-spelling-corrected 	{mso-style-name:blsp-spelling-corrected;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;If you've ever been to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;London&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt; you will know that you just don't make conversation with strangers. It's not right it's weird and the only way you will speak to someone is when you scream at them to take their &lt;b&gt;backpack off&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;b&gt;move down the carriage&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;stop pushing&lt;/b&gt; because you’re &lt;b&gt;invading my personal space&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, at night, it all changes! People embraces gazes, no staring at shoes or out the window, random mindless conversation begins all because you've had a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vinos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; or beers that evening! You become fearless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Night, this happened to me. I got in a cab from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;North London&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt; to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;Victoria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt; to catch the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="5"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;5am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt; train home. These trains are so god damn reliable as every hour after &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="1"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;1am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BAM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I can get home with ease. So &lt;b&gt;imagine my horror&lt;/b&gt; last night, when I was told... &lt;i&gt;"No Trains from here tonight!"&lt;/i&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; believe my really bad luck. I stood about for a bit contemplating the options of either&lt;br /&gt;(a) getting a night bus to the designated railway station of their choice and then try and figure out how to get back to base from there  or&lt;br /&gt;(b) Pay stupid amounts of money in a cab to go from door to door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I swayed toward the door to door option and as I did so, I saw these two young girls with drunken walks and carrying their shoes. Tragic sight even in my not so sober state. The two girls started to shout (obviously you must go deaf when drunk!);&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"OH MY GOD. How can we get home!?"&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno hun, get a train"&lt;br /&gt;"There are no trains"&lt;br /&gt;"Course there's trains"&lt;br /&gt;"No... Look!" (cue a rather exaggerated fling of the arm ending up with point at the departures board!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to interrupt this messy situation and ask where they were headed to &amp;amp; it turned out we all lived in the same area. We decided to embrace the idea of 3 drunk strangers getting a cab home. As we did so, There was another outcry of disbelieve about the lack of trains to get home. Behind us were two lads, who clearly had the same crisis as us. So guess what... 3 drunk strangers became 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now obviously, normally, why in your right mind would you get in to a cab with 4 randoms that you have never met in your entire life?&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't!&lt;br /&gt;But as the theory proves, a few vinos, beers, shots and what not... you become more trusting than you do when sober.&lt;br /&gt;The stranger you wouldn't dare have eye contact with during the day, at night becomes a friend for half an hour and your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="5"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;5 o'clock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt; hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I got home safely. Apparently these randoms are all adding me on facebook and one of them gave me a random "compliment". I'm an &lt;b&gt;unobvious hotty&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The definition of this... at first, not so keen but after a while... I’m Hot.&lt;br /&gt;Not a great compliment, however...  i'll take it and run!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm look forward to more of these drunken embraces :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-2580537891388712980?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/2580537891388712980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=2580537891388712980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/2580537891388712980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/2580537891388712980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-not-so-bad-to-speak-to-strangers-at.html' title='It&apos;s not so bad to speak to Strangers at night'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-5718369078153470544</id><published>2008-11-24T12:36:00.007Z</published><updated>2008-11-24T13:11:04.662Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='songs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='break up'/><title type='text'>Back..with avengence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Well it's been over a YEAR, nearly two since I set up this and I've not been able to get into because I forgot my password, user name etc but today! WHOOP! I found it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;So in the last year, nearly 2, I did meet guys with my new found confidence, but there was one guy who won me over and we were together for just shy of 6 months and as much as it still pains me now to know that we are not together any more and he is already making some other girl happy, he was amazing and I miss him dearly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SSqkyk57E2I/AAAAAAAAAAk/uZpXDutCjC4/s1600-h/P1020615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SSqkyk57E2I/AAAAAAAAAAk/uZpXDutCjC4/s200/P1020615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272207502597624674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Music is helping me heal and I seem to be finding songs to suit how I feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; Trying to find a song to define the way I feel is tough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;Do Me A Favour by the Arctic Monkeys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;has a heart wrenching verse that I found myself associating with for sometime. It's exactly how I felt when it was over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;She walked away, well her shoes were untied,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; And the eyes were all red,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; You could see that we've cried, and I watched and I waited,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; 'Till she was inside, forcing a smile and waving goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've discovered these lyrics, with the cold setting in and me kind of getting used to being single again, this song seems to feel at home with me. The track itself is heavier than you expect when you read the lyrics, some of them seem to fit how I feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Crush by Jimmy Eat World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:lucida grande;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;Faintest snow keep falling.&lt;br /&gt;Hands around your waist.&lt;br /&gt;Nameless, standing cold.&lt;br /&gt;Take in restraint like a breath.&lt;br /&gt;My lungs are so numb from holding back.&lt;br /&gt;Walk close to the fence.&lt;br /&gt;Feel it hit your clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:lucida grande;"  lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn and smile nice.&lt;br /&gt;Smile say goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;Say goodnight in a breath.&lt;br /&gt;Simple discourse breaks you clean in half.&lt;br /&gt;Regret.&lt;br /&gt;Do try it once and then you know.&lt;br /&gt;Your move.&lt;br /&gt;Settle for nothing less again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:worddocument style="font-family: lucida grande; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;w:worddocument&gt;&lt;w:compatibility&gt;&lt;w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;/w:snaptogridincell&gt;&lt;/w:breakwrappedtables&gt;&lt;/w:compatibility&gt;&lt;/w:worddocument&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I'm still not myself and finding my feelings in songs seems to be the only way to get back on track...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The most recent emotion I am experiencing is &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Fear&lt;/span&gt;. One of my greatest fears is loneliness and right at this very moment I am so scared to be single.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I had my emotions pulled apart SO MUCH the last time I was single by guys who weren't really sure what they wanted and seem to use me to figure it out. I don't want this to happen again but i don't know if I'm strong enough to prevent it! Especially when I am shamefully craving attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I guess I should maybe learn from what happened last time and play the men at their own game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="blogContent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Any advice Bloggers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-5718369078153470544?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/5718369078153470544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=5718369078153470544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5718369078153470544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/5718369078153470544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2008/11/backwith-avengence.html' title='Back..with avengence?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SSqkyk57E2I/AAAAAAAAAAk/uZpXDutCjC4/s72-c/P1020615.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4944430939550179829.post-6628219662935519624</id><published>2007-01-13T18:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-13T20:37:48.826Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2006'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2007'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Looking back at 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My first blog on Blogger and I thought I share something with you all.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/RalC-FjZeyI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7EycvVkvGy4/s1600-h/lonely1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019616894091098914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 207px" height="202" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/RalC-FjZeyI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7EycvVkvGy4/s320/lonely1.jpg" width="228" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who ever thought a year could change one person so much. Someone like me. I thought I'd finished evolving into the girl/women that everyone know, likes or love but last year, I changed again, maybe it's all to do with being a women but at 23 I thought I had already done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't normally write things down like this but whilst on a boring, slow commute to work on a cold saturday, I started reading my texts on my mobile from April. I haven't deleted them because some are emotional, some sentimental and some make me feel great and add a smile to this face and give me that much needed confidence boost which is always needed and appreciated however hard it is to accept. The texts made me realise A LOT has happened in six months and this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year,pretty much like every year and everyone else year as had it's highs and lows. January started on a high, a new job, my boyfriend and I has just made a year together and I was very much in love and very happy. A few months later I started my crazy gigging year and my love for my special fella grew stronger, just like my love for Ricky Wilson!!! (hehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the lows kicked in. As much as I was smiling on the outside, loving going to gigs, deep inside was a strain. My boyfriends' promotion to manager was fantastic. He's worked his arse off to make something of himself and to achieve a promotion was the ideal reward. But the lack of support started to put a strain on our relationship. We started to see less of each other but we were determined to keep going. He even said "Our love would beat it". I had a lot of patience and I guess a lot of love. It wasn't easy seeing him once a week for two hours and sometimes those two hours was him spent sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around July, after my boyfriends birthday, things started to change. Seeing him became more infrequent and he was getting lost in my hurried lifestyle. At the end of July, I went out after work for drinks and ended up in Walkabout with my good female friend. We both clocked this GORGEOUS guy and that was the night I knew things weren't right in my heart. WE got chatting to this guy and the whole time I felt I wanted to kiss him. I probably could of, if I was very drunk. But I couldn't, because, I'm not that kinda girl. I ended up swapping numbers as he we shared a passion for gigs and he was only in London for a year and wanted people to go to them with. He was the first guy in the 17 months (the length I had been with my man) that I have felt that way towards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The few weeks that followed, the relationship digressed further. I made conscious efforts to try and revive it. I surprised him at work, which he loved! but it unfortunately ended in an argument and 4 days later, so had we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now maybe I'm just odd, but break-ups shoot people down and make getting on with your life very difficult. But for some bizarre reason 3 days after my break up I was fighting back. 5 months on, I've been having fun. My confidence has hit a new high. It's the most confident I have ever felt!! If you know me personally, then you'll know this is an incredible achievement as there was a point where I could of not been here to write this.&lt;br /&gt;The last five months have made me a more confident and stronger woman which, in my eyes, are qualities that make a beautiful woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm evolving into one of those. It is so refreshing to have people finally see you for who you have been all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007, I'm looking to blossom even more and have fun doing it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007, better what out!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks for reading ! x&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4944430939550179829-6628219662935519624?l=mythoughtbub.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/feeds/6628219662935519624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4944430939550179829&amp;postID=6628219662935519624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6628219662935519624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4944430939550179829/posts/default/6628219662935519624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mythoughtbub.blogspot.com/2007/01/looking-back-at-2006.html' title='Looking back at 2006'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13700238970605375103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/SgcKqAEbXfI/AAAAAAAAABo/vbX0vZ9aHJ8/S220/P1010042.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_nQXK9Ne0YBM/RalC-FjZeyI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7EycvVkvGy4/s72-c/lonely1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
