<?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-7152187397175748190</id><updated>2011-11-10T12:26:32.218-08:00</updated><category term='=]'/><category term='randoms'/><title type='text'>Chapters of Lacey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6608828689139191626</id><published>2011-11-10T12:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T12:26:32.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I figured out why life is hard and why decisions are hard to make. It's taken me a while, but I finally have it. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;There are too many options. Love has too many options. And won't you agree that love is one of the most difficult things that you have to deal with in life? Oh I'll agree to that. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love makes life hard. Really hard. And that's because there are too many options. How is that our grandparents and their parents were, for the most part, able to stay in one relationship for their whole entire life? They didn't have as many options as we do. I mean some people even had arranged marriages and whatnot, but hey, they made it work right? Or they married their high school sweetheart and grew old with them. They loved each other unconditionally. So what the hell is wrong with people, myself included, nowadays? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now I'm not saying that I don't enjoy options. But I am saying that there are too many. Im just so frustrated with love right now. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;How do I know that I'm making the right decisions in life? How do I know that this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing? I guess I'll never know until it's said and done. Or maybe I'll grow old and be alone. Maybe I need to be alone to have it all figured out. Who the fuck knows.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Some days I wish that I could just run away and never look back. I just want to get out of here and start over. And you know what, tomorrow ill probably look back at this blog and wonder what I was thinking. But that's why I like to post blogs like this...when I'm full of emotion. I think that's the best time to write.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I just need to know that I can be truly happy in life. You know, really happy. Not just fake happy. Sometimes I think that I'm happy, but then I doubt myself and what I have going on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I just doubt too much.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I feel off track and lost. Like I'm running around in circles trying to find something that will never be. How do I get back on track when I've never been on it in the first place? Does anyone have the right answers for me? I know this is something that I have to figure out for myself, but wouldnt it be nice if someone else could do it for you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I can think back about a 2 years ago, and I remember that I was a fairly happy person then. Just finishing up beauty school, thinking that I was getting my life started. I'm not sure what changed from then until now. I just don't know. &amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You know, it's strange. I tend to be a very optimistic person, and feel like I usually know what's going on in my life. But recently, I have no clue. No ideas. I'm literally lost, and every decision I'm making is a guess. A guess that I dont want to know the ending to because I'm afraid it'll be the wrong one. Every day seems to be the same mundane thing, over and over again. I need something new. Somewhere new. I need a new me. A new outlook on life. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;And now I don't even know where to go from here. At this very moment in my life, I remain lost. I hope I can find what I'm looking for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I hate bitching about my life. But sometimes you just have to...it feels good to get it all out..even if it's to a blog that no one reads. At least it's out...makes it a little more realistic.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6608828689139191626?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6608828689139191626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-figured-out-why-life-is-hard-and-why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6608828689139191626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6608828689139191626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-figured-out-why-life-is-hard-and-why.html' title='5'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-7319473003056975536</id><published>2011-10-19T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T22:52:35.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cuatro</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Okie dokie. What shall i write about tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I honestly dont have anything in mind, but i know that i could kind of be productive and write...since i havent in a while. And the last post ranted on about a butthead...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;So!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Okay. so i'm moving to Maine next September. Hopefully. I'm really trying hard to make this happen...I just need something new in my life. I feel like i've become stagnant in this area...like i cant really go anywhere with my life here. I know that probably sounds pretty lame, but it's true. I honestly don't want to spend the rest of my life managing a cost cutters.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Thanks, but no thanks.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;So, i'm going to see what Maine has to offer. And you may ask yourself, why there? Well...this is going to sound even more lame...I read a lot of Stephen King books, like a lot. Like i've read more than half of all his books. And i love them all. And most of his books as set in Maine. I know that almost all of what he writes is not true to what Maine is like, but I'm just attracted to that area. and if it's a lame reason, then so be it. I just want to go and spread my wings and try something new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I dont have any major commitments here. no kids. no house. no pets. no life. no nothing. so why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I mean, i will miss my friends and family a lot. they're my everything, but it's not like ill never come home and visit. because i will come home and visit a lot....i remember when i went to college in la crosse, i was home every damn weekend. sure that was only 3 hours away, but i guarantee i'll be home at least every other month. at least.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;so thats an interesting thing happening in my life. maine! yay!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;hmmmm, what else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;i've been working out an insane amount. once, if not twice, every dang day. I'm not trying to get ripped or anything, just trying to tone up and be as healthy as i can be. heart disease runs in my family, so any way that i can help to prevent that, yes please! sign me up :) ive lost about 4 or 5 pounds. so yippie!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;blah, i lead a boring life. So i guess that's all for now! until the next time! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-7319473003056975536?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7319473003056975536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/10/cuatro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7319473003056975536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7319473003056975536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/10/cuatro.html' title='cuatro'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-188496748333695654</id><published>2011-09-07T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T19:09:00.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;So a lot has happened since the last time I wrote. And i kind of cut the other blog short because i was at a loss for words. which for the most part i still am.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;ugh, there's just been so much going on lately, it's insane.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;So my ex and i broke up. got back together. broke up. got back together. broke up. got back together one last time. and broke up one last time. and I'm pretty sure he hates my guts. and he has every right to. whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;why was i so indecisive? ha ha i wish that i knew. and each time that we broke up, id get back together with this other guy. so i was literally putting both of these boys through a whirlwind. which is so unlike me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;as i sit here and type this. i wonder why i even started. this isnt making me feel any better. but i'm going to continue anyway.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;my ex and i got back together. there were a lot of unfinished feelings. i thought. and the last time i really thought we were going to stay together for good. like the long haul. until he lied to me. the thing of it was, it was a lie that he could have been honest to me about and i wouldnt have cared. i would have brushed it off like it was no big deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;i have a friend. this friend and his friend didnt like my ex. which is their choice, fine. they pulled a prank on my ex and probably a few other guys too. they made a fake fb account and pretended to be some hot chic...they stole pics off the internet and it was legitimately a fake account. they added my ex and began to talk to him. i guess they gave him one of their phone numbers, but pretended to be this girl still. they said that the girl was drunk and wanted to hook up with my ex, and do some sexual things. blah blah blah. they gave my ex a fake address to drive to..where they actually were...he drove to it. thinking he would get to hook up with this hot chic. he got there, called the 'hot chic' and got no response. they told my ex that the hot chic was passed out drunk and couldnt come to the phone. etc etc.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;okay. so i knew about this story before i got back together with him the last and final time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;one day, he and i were going to get some food together. we had been back together for about a week and a half. he was telling me about this fake fb account that added him. he goes on to tell me that he talked to this girl on chat blah blah blah. he then tells me that the girl said she was drunk and needed help...making him seem like a good guy...and then he said that he called her and found out it was a fake account.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I asked him if he tried to meet up with her or anything. his response: no way. id never do that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;okay, so i know it seems like a small lie. and he and i weren't together when it all went down. but at the same time...why wouldnt he tell me that it happened? i dont know. so i left it alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;there was another incident. he was always very secretive about his text messages. which is fine. its his business. it was fine, until i found out that he was texting a caitlin chic all the time while he and i were dating. and it was fine until i found out that he had intentions of meeting up with her. and it was okay until i found out that he had romantic feelings for her. and then it was a little less okay when he tried to lie to me about it. and whats make it worse, was that he told me he would never ever date her, and that he was never ever going to be attracted to her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;wanna know what happened? they ended up dating for a brief period of time. i find that interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;want to know what else i find interesting? why i was so bad to him that he had to lie to me about those minor things? why i was always second best to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;he claimed that i would never be second best to anything. well why do i feel so shitty then? it's been a month since i told him goodbye for the final time, and he still breaks my heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;the funny thing is, is that i was the one who told him goodbye. because he lied to me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I'm not going to make it seem like i was always so good. because you know what? i did cheat on him once, but you know what? i told him about it. and he and i resolved that issue. i had thought we did anyway. but he kept bringing it up and making me feel guilty about it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;so i guess im just writing to get everything out. to make it legit. to make it real. because in my head, things just dont seem real at the moment. and i feel like the bad guy once again. i feel lost and confused. i'm sure ill find my way though. i always do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;i mean. it's not like he's the first guy to ever lie to me. and i doubt that he'll be the last.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;but for now, ill say goodbye. in hopes that ill learn to forgive him and that he'll be able to forgive me and not hate me. i guess i cant live with the fact knowing that someone hates me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;sometimes, i'm such a girl.&amp;nbsp; &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/7152187397175748190-188496748333695654?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/188496748333695654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/09/3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/188496748333695654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/188496748333695654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/09/3.html' title='3'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-940363861914641315</id><published>2011-07-20T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T13:28:56.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm writing in puke green, because I feel like I could puke.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm not sure if it's because I'm hung over as fuck, or because I'm depressed/confused/disappointed as fuck. I'm pretty sure it's between those two though.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I feel like my life could be a tv show. It's so hectic and confusing it makes me want to vomit. Which I've already stated, but I'm sure a lot of people feel that way.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Blogging usually makes me feel better, so I'm hoping it works.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm one of those people who should probably keep their mouths shut sometimes. Well a lot of times. But I choose not to and it always bites me in the ass. Ugh, let me explain.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So. My ex and I broke up...previous blogs...and I thought I was cool with it. Well in the meantime I met a different guy, starting hanging out and liking him. Okay, well while I was seeing this other guy I couldn't help but think of my ex. Which I'm sure is normal, but then I had to go to him and tell him that. Which I shouldn't have done. I should have just let it be.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;But like I said, I have a big mouth when I shouldn't have one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So then I was stuck in a hard place.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-940363861914641315?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/940363861914641315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/07/two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/940363861914641315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/940363861914641315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/07/two.html' title='two'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1974106839587076191</id><published>2011-04-05T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T13:33:12.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Today is a bold text day. I'm so frustrated. It's difficult to write.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Okay, like seriously.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;We dated for over a year, you told me you loved me and whatever. Things were serious. I break up with you and you act like it doesnt matter and you dont care. Im kind unsure how to feel about this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, I'm extremely glad that the break up went really well. Don't get me wrong, and I may sound hypocritical when I write this, but. It was like he didn't even care. There were no real emotions.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;He didn't chase after me. He didn't stand outside of my window with his radio blaring 'our' song trying to win me back. He didn't sob to his friends about how he couldn't live without me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Nope. Instead he sat down and split all the bills with me, and took a girl out on a date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Well, I guess that means I'm in the clear to date. If we're only waiting a week and a half after a year + relationship then so be it. Fine. I won't tip toe over emotions or walk on egg shells anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Yeah, those are selfish thoughts of me to think. But I didn't even feel like I mattered after the break up. Like I was just another girl to him, and he wasnt even upset about it. And the hypocritical part of this blog is, I guess that's what I was hoping for. But at the same time, it wasn't.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;I confuse myself sometimes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm glad that it ended. Now that I look back at it and think about it, he should have tried to make me stay. He should have tried harder to make me happy. I deserve someone who will do that for me. Because I DO THAT. I chase after someone when I care for them, I give them all the happiness in my ability.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Why do I date people that I feel like I have to help? Why can't I just help myself first? It's harder than it sounds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;And I can't stop listening to this Ellie Goulding song called Every Time You Go. It describes my emotions to a T. It explains the relationship perfectly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tape me up, then break me up. Ever so gently, when I'm at my weakest.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;It's not so hard...every time you go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Okay, well now that I got that all out. I feel a bijillion times better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1974106839587076191?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1974106839587076191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/04/2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1974106839587076191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1974106839587076191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/04/2.html' title='1'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2912692983112994622</id><published>2011-03-30T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T20:18:32.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I haven't wrote anything...blog, journal entry, notes, anything...in a really really long time. It's sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've been sad. Let me explain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ever feel like you're missing something in your life? Like a really big thing in your life? Well i was feeling that. And as you know from my previous posts, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy. And he and I were great together. We didn't really fight and we got a long really well. I dont think we should have moved in as soon as we did, but that was my fault because it was my offer to him. But i look back now and know that that wasnt the best decision ive ever made. but in all reality, everything happens for a reason.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Im a firm believer of that. I believe i was sad because i was missing something in my life. what i'm missing, i have no idea. but i'll find it some day. probably. and well, if i dont, then i don't. things were getting to the point that i was becoming that bitchy girlfriend. constantly nitpicking at everything. ugh, i started to hate myself because of it. i didnt like coming home and being mad or sad about something dumb. i started to doubt myself. every time he was on his phone i felt like i had to know who he was talking to. was it that caitlin chick whose kinda ultra weird? idk, just dumb things like that. i even made him delete her from facebook and from his phone. i see that they're friends again on fb and probably talk now that he and i broke up. but..good. maybe she's better for him than me? i mean i knew that he loved me and that he was faithful, but sometimes the i love you's didnt feel 'right' to me. like they weren't whole hearted. ugh, anyway. im rambling. everything happens for a reason.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;i meet new people every day. some are good, some are bad, some stay and some leave. im glad i met him. im glad he stayed as long as i let him. i have no hard feelings towards him, and wish him the best of luck. im glad i felt the way i did and im glad i told him and things happened the way they did. i cant predict the future, but i couldnt see our futures heading in the same direction anymore. it just wasnt there.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;So im not going to sit here and bash him or say bad things about him. because I dont have any bad things to say about him...i just feel like i had to put myself first for once. I never put myself before others. ever. it's an awful fault of mine, and it gets me in trouble more often than not. im a firm believer that you have to make yourself happy first. so instead of being a hypocrite, maybe ill take my own beliefs and make them happen?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;anyway. i guess that's about all. time to start a new part of my life and see where it leads.&amp;nbsp; &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/7152187397175748190-2912692983112994622?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2912692983112994622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/03/part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2912692983112994622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2912692983112994622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2011/03/part-2.html' title='Part 2'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-7639431715199297007</id><published>2010-12-14T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:46:55.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>six-one</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So. Here I sit at work, drinking a red bull. And I'm in a shitty mood. Ever have those days where you're just crabby? Well this is one of those days for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm crabby about everything. Ugh. It's frustrating. I overdrafted in my bank account. Again. Which really shouldnt put me in a bad mood since I overdraft about every other month...maybe more...but it makes me mad. And I'm pissed that the fucking plow trucks had to be outside of my bedroom window at fucking 6am making tons and tons of noise. And yeah, I know that that's their job and what not. But seriously. It makes me tired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm crabby that some people just cant let things go. And trust me, I'm guilty of holding grudges and not getting over things and whatever. But still, I can and will be crabby about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm crabby that I feel like I can't write about whatever I want to because I have to be afraid that I might offend someone or start some sort of drama. That's bullshit. Ugh. I should be able to write whatever the hell I want to. But yet, I wont. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm crabby because I won't make fucking bonus at my job becuase they make reaching those goals pretty much impossible. Fuck that. Grrr. I would love to make a 300 dollar bonus. Please. And it makes me mad that people can cheat the system and get look good while they do it. But I'm too scared to cheat the system and get ahead like them, because I'm afraid of getting&amp;nbsp;caught. Is it so bad that I want to get ahead the old fashioned way and not by cheating?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm crabby because winter sucks. Snow is nice for christmas, yes. And I know that I live in Wiscosin, yes. But not by choice. If I could leave and move somewhere else right now, I totally would. I'd be gone in a heartbeat. I'd do something for myself for once.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;And that's another reason I'm crabby. I feel like a I give and give and give and give and well you get the point and then that's it. I give to everyone. EVERY ONE. And no appreciation in return. I know that we're supposed to give and do things for others out of the kindness in our heart and blah blah blah. But in reality, don't we give to each other because we want to feel appreciated or be rewarded. And maybe that's a reason why we've become such a selfish society. But still. Every once in a while it would be nice to feel appreciated. That's all. Instead of feeling like shit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I need something new in my life. A hobby or something. Anything. I'm gettting bored with myself. I feel like work is taking over my life and I have no time for anything else. And it's a shitty feeling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's a shitty day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-7639431715199297007?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7639431715199297007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/12/62.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7639431715199297007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7639431715199297007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/12/62.html' title='six-one'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2868412382251110715</id><published>2010-11-29T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:46:44.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>60</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;La dee da. So, I'm currently at work, and just found out that I can blog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;WOOOOHOOOO! This is excting for me =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So lately I feel like I've been going kind of crazy. I think that I work too much or something? This seems to be a reoccurring(sp?) trend in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;And I've been pretty stressed out too. Which is a another trend in my life. Stress has become a little less since I've stopped talking to one of the people who cause most of the stress going on. And you know what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I couldnt be happier to not talk to that person anymore. Ive finally realized that she just brought me down. But anyway, that's old news and I don't need to dwell on the past =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm pretty dang excited for&amp;nbsp;Christmas though! I am just about finished with all of my shopping, which makes me happy. I just have a few things to get for a few people. I love giving gifts. Even if most of my gifts are kind of lame, I still like giving them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Something else I've realized...I need to take more pictures and start scrapbooking more often. Another thing, I need to blog more. Wow does it feel great to just write about useless and random stuff. It is nice!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So! I got this cool new contraption. A nook. And I'm super stoked about it! As soon as I finish reading the book I have, I'm going to fill that bad boy with a million ca-trillion books! Ha ha, maybe not that many, but a lot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What other random things do I have going on....dot...dot...dot..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Well I guess, not a whole lot this evening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;[is it weird that i never wanna grow up and be one of those mean/old/farty/angry/arrogant/retarded/mean/stinky adults? nah, i didnt think so either. i mean, it's not like i wanna be immature or anything like that. i just wanna have a lot of fun and be super duper happy for the rest of my life. that is all. okay.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Until another time &amp;lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2868412382251110715?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2868412382251110715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/11/six-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2868412382251110715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2868412382251110715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/11/six-one.html' title='60'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5624268106106083902</id><published>2010-11-01T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:46:31.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter Fifty-nine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So I would like to think that I dont have too many issues in my life. And for the most part that seems to be true. But recently a rather major issue has arose in my life. It's one that I'm not quite sure how to handle. So instead of going over everything in my head, I thought that I would blog about it so I can really get all of words out and not forget anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;I haven't written a blog, because I haven't had anything dramatic/bad go on in my life, and I think that's the wrong reason to blog. So I shall be changing that. But for the meantime, I'm writing this blog not because anything good has happened.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So where to begin? I guess where I see fit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;I had amazing friends. The kind I would stay up all night for, go to bars that I didnt want to go to for, give the shirt off of my back for, give my last everything to for. Basically I would do anything for my friends. Like my best friends. They were basically my sisters. We would have the absolute best times ever, and whenever I needed advice or someone to go to, they were there. And vice versa. I was always, 110%, there for them. To give advice to, listen to what was going on in their life, anything and everything. Best friends.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;I dont know if this is how everyone feels or how everyone sees it, but best friends are there until the end. Right? Want to know how I think you know you have an absolute best best friend? You don't talk shit about them. You say what's on your mind, to their face. You discuss what's bothering you directly. And you don't keep secrets from them. Because what's the point of being able to say you're their best friend and what's the point of saying you would do anything for them, if they're not going to return the feelings? I think that if you're going to have feelings for something, anything, that you have to go all out with those feelings. All out. And that's what I do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So I meet a boy. A genuinely nice boy that treats me with respects and sees me for more than just a piece of ass. Someone who I can confide in and trust. Someone whose only concern is about making sure that I'm happy and that I have everything I want. Someone I can be an exact equal with. Someone who cares about my feelings and wants nothing but happiness for me. Someone unlike anyone else I've ever met. Sure he's not like the 'typical guy' I would have dated, but that's what I love about him. Because the 'typical guy' I would have dated, would have had sex with me by now and said see ya later. Too scared for any kind of commitment or responsibility in their life. Too scared to have anything serious or anything that might actually define their life. Too scared to share REAL fucking emotions. Yeah trust me, I've met plenty of boys in my life. And I've been FUCKED over by plenty of those boys in my life. And each time this happened, who would I turn to for comfort and advice? Who would I trust to give me direction? My friends of course, because who eles would I rather turn to? No one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So while I was meeting plenty of guys, guess who else was? My friends. They've met plenty of boy themselves, this is true. And you want to know what else? I was always there for them when they needed advice and comfort. Or when they thought that they were really being liked by some boy, but in all reality they were only getting fucked over. Or when they had a pregnancy scare, or when they couldnt tell their parents, or when none of their other friends like that boy, or when they didnt know what to do, or when they just needed a shoulder to cry on, or when they wanted to me to go out to the bar with them so they could flirt and hang out with a new boy they had interest in, or when ANYTHING. You get the point. I was there through it all, and still am. I never once judged my friends for their dating choices. I may have told them that this boy or that boy only wanted them for their sex, or was being a played or whatever. I only gave them truthful advice based off of actual experiences.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;I only tried to help. Because that's all I've ever tried to do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;But in the end, it didn't matter. Because who they chose to see, have sex with, or fall in love with, was their choice. They were the ones who had to date them, not me. Their life. I was only their to support them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;Upon meeting this boy. I fell in love with this boy. And upon falling in actual true blue love with this boy, I became genuinely happy. Unlike anything else I've ever felt with any other boy. And I had hoped that my friends would have been there to support me when I finally met someone who wasn't a complete douche bag.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;And like every other boy, him and I had issues. And like I would have done before, I went to my friends for advice. But this boy and myself, worked things out. And now things couldnt be better.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So this boy and I lived with one of, what used to be, my good friends. She's right I didn't really give her a choice with him living there and pretty much forced it upon her. Which on my part was shitty, and I will definitely admit that. But she was never there in the first place. Even when everyone in the house got along. And every time she did want to hang out with me, it was either let's go to a bar or let's hang out for like an hour before she left for her boyfriend's house. She had made new friends and had different things going on in her life. Which I understood. To me, it felt like our friendship was fading and it wasn't just because I had met a boy, but she had to. In fact I remember a about a year or more previous to this current situation she had met a different boy that she was happy with and all that jazz, she moved in with him etc. And I also remember talking to her about 3 times and hanging out with her once. In roughly a year or a little more. But being the good friend that I was, I supported her choices and was there for her when she needed me. Which was seldom, but still. I was there. Anyway. She's moved out. Things went south. Which makes me sad, yes. She said I've chosen my boyfriend over her. But in all reality should one have to choose between their sig others and their friends?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;No. I would never put that stress on another person. And trust me, their have been plenty of fucking times when my other so called friends have chose a boy or a different friend over me. Did I get all emotional and upset about it and tell them they have to choose because there can only be one correct answer? No. I did not. I was a big girl and got over the fact that everything happens for a reason, and they wanted to choose a boy or other friend over me, then fine. Whatever, life goes on. And when my friend was kicked to the curb or ditched, I was STILL fucking there. And even though that may make me pretty pathetic, I WAS THERE.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;So my other 'true' friends, apparently don't like my boyfriend either. And apparently I'm the last to know. But apparently it's okay for them to all talk about it behind my back. And apparently I cannot be happy with a boy without supposedly ditching my friends. And apparently I've chose him over them. Which is not the case at all. I continuously ask to hang or do something, anything, with you. You always have an excuse. YOU always choose someone else over me. My boyfriend, the one that my friends dont like, has done nothing but try to kiss all of your asses. Because I wanted you to like him so bad. But I've come to learn that it's not my problem that you don't like him. And it's not my problem that you can't accept the fact that I'm happy. And it's not my problem if I'm the only one making an effort to make our friendships work.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg';"&gt;I love my friends. I don't love the fact that my friends aren't true friends anymore. My feelings are hurt, and that's all I have to say. Everything happens for a reason, and I still live by that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5624268106106083902?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5624268106106083902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/11/chapter-sixty.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5624268106106083902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5624268106106083902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/11/chapter-sixty.html' title='Chapter Fifty-nine'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3009087787368997906</id><published>2010-09-16T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:46:13.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 58ish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;A new day is coming and I am full of life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;And I so am. I know it's been like forever since I wrote a blog, and I know that each time I apologize for taking so long to write. But I've been insanely busy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Well let me take that back. I really havent been that busy. I've just been working too much, and then by the time I get home, I'm kind of exhausted and too tired to write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Which is lame, because I love writing. Well blogging, anyway.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I love a lot of things lately. My life in general is pretty awesome. And it really has been for the past year or so. Yay! This is a nice change =] and one that I'm more than okay getting used to. So.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Recent happenings:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I'm working at a salon in Baraboo. I love it. The girls I work with are pretty chill and easy enough to get along with. So i cant complain there. But weird happening. My ex's gf came in one day that I was working, wow what a awkward situation. Thank god I didnt have to cut her hair. ha ha.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;So yeah, work is good. I make bank and I'm not complaining. I'm paying my bills on time....well for the most part =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;I got a new, but used, car. It's red and super cute. And I love it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Still have the amazing boyfriend. Who is amazing if you didn't catch that the first time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Wow. I truly lead a boring life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Oh, I'm thinking about becoming vegan again. I just don't feel as healthy as I did last summer when I went vegan. And I'd like to lose a few lbs. Ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Well I suppose that's about all for now. I wish there were more to write, but like I said. I lead an extremely boring and pretty routine life at the moment.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Until next time....which will not be a couple months like it was this time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3009087787368997906?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3009087787368997906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/09/chapter-59ish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3009087787368997906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3009087787368997906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/09/chapter-59ish.html' title='Chapter 58ish'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3737319794325447425</id><published>2010-07-12T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T20:34:47.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fifty seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Readers, I apologize that it's been almost a month since I've posted my last blog =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;New in my life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;I have a new job at a salon in Portage. And I loooooooove it! Everyone I work with is pretty cool and they're not mean assholes. Which is a definite plus =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;I got a car!!!! AHHHHHH excited times a million. It's not brand new, but it's new to me. It's a 1995 Honda Civic EX and it has a spoiler on the back and a moonroof and its sooooo freakin' cute!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Dylan might not be leaving to go to basic due to some medical thing, so that's pretty fucking amazing because I won't have to be without him for 3 months. I'd miss the hell out of him, and plus I think that him staying here has something to do with fate, and that's not something you should mess with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;=]&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;In other news, I want to go shopping. Pretty bad actually. It's been like, oh I don't know, a couple months since I've gone actual shopping. I mean I buy a few things here and there, but not a full blown shopping trip. We'll see how that goes though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Vintage(the photo place I worked at for 3 years) is probably opening back up! Which is great news as well. I'll only be able to work there part time, since I'm working at the salon in Portage, but that's totally cool with me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;So all in all, things have been going extremely well for me lately...which is a nice change. Well until next time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3737319794325447425?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3737319794325447425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/07/fifty-seven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3737319794325447425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3737319794325447425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/07/fifty-seven.html' title='fifty seven'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-7777121487267220703</id><published>2010-06-19T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T04:56:02.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifty something</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;It has been the longest night ever. Want to know why? I'm 5 mintutes away from finishing up my last 3rd shift job. Ever. And does it ever feel good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;=]&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; !!!!!!!! x 3500000000000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-7777121487267220703?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7777121487267220703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/fifty-something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7777121487267220703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7777121487267220703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/fifty-something.html' title='Fifty something'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-335837745072482397</id><published>2010-06-18T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T04:56:29.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>55</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I know that my font colors don't match and that I think I may have numbered my chapters wrong, but oh well. And usually something like this would bother me until i fixed it...not today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I am too tired to have a care in the world. I am burnt out and just physically and mentally drained. TO THE MAX. Tomorrow is my last day at Great Wolf Lodge. 6 years later, I am done. And it's never felt so great. Saturday is my last day at the salon I currently work at, and then I start a new salon job on Monday. So it's kind of like a fresh new start to really try and get out of this hump in my personal life I've been having lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;YAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I can't wait =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What else is of importance? Hmmmm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm still going back and forth with this damn insurance company. It's such a pain in the ass. But everything happens for a reason and I just need to keep remind myself of that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Whoa whoa. I am spent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;I wish there were more to type here....but unfortunately I am a rather boring person and I don't have a lot to say.&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/7152187397175748190-335837745072482397?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/335837745072482397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/55.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/335837745072482397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/335837745072482397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/55.html' title='55'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6906183841671379844</id><published>2010-06-18T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:45:57.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>54</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6906183841671379844?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6906183841671379844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/50.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6906183841671379844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6906183841671379844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/50.html' title='54'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5514799198862282986</id><published>2010-06-10T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T07:45:41.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cinco-tres</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have nine minutes to bust out a blog before my shift is over at work, so here it goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Things have been going pretty smooth lately. I have successfully quit one a half jobs and gotten one and half new jobs. So that's what I like to call a win-win situation. My days are numbered at this hell hole hotel job, and I honestly couldn't be happier. I have thought numerous times about just not showing up for work and quitting, but there's something inside of me that says I'm too nice. So.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;OH! The other night on my way to work, an old lady decided that it would be cool to side swipe my car and total it. Yup, out of the Ho Chunk parking lot...which is&amp;nbsp;casino that spills onto a main highway, which I happened to be traveling on that night...pull this 78 year old woman in her minivan. Right into traffic, and even after I swurved waaaay out of the way to miss her, she still managed to find a way to hit me. Ugh, Ive never been in a car accident before, so let me tell you. It was not my favorite kind of experience. Boo. So I'm crossing my fingers, and hoping that everything works out, and I can get a vehicle and stop driving my grandpa's buick. ha ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Anyway, what else is new and of importance in my life.....tick...tock...tick...tock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I have a kitten. And she likes to mawl my face with her kitten kisses/bites. It happens to be very painful...so I'm not quite sure if shes trying to murder me or cuddle me. But she's cute either way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Dylan leaves in a couple weeks, and I'm pretty much dreading that day. 3 months. Wow. It better fly by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Other than that, nothing else important to report on. And my 9 minutes are up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5514799198862282986?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5514799198862282986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/cinco-cinco.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5514799198862282986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5514799198862282986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/06/cinco-cinco.html' title='cinco-tres'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-4160726037545520876</id><published>2010-05-13T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T22:20:57.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifty-two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hello hello. Chapter 52 in my boring and mostly lame life. Yay! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ha ha, jk. My life is rather enjoyable actually =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;At work, like always. BUT...remember that job that I applied for as a Sales Coordinator? Well they called me today and would like to talk to me about the position....which is a GOOD THING! yayayayayayay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I apologize in advance. My mind at the moment is like this: slkjfaljdflajdflj./////s/d;fa;lekrwe.///........d.d.d.d.d.kdkdslewwe3989482034.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;In other words, all over the place. Not because of stress or anything of the sort....I started this detoxing thing. And basically I can't eat food, and I have to drink this concoction of stuff. It's supposed to get rid of toxins that I have in my body. I'm not sure how many I'll really have, considering I've been a vegetarian/vegan for the past year, but who knows! In the book I read about it, they said that day 3 is the hardest..which happens to be the day that I just completed. But since my days and nights are all out of whack..because of my awesome 3rd shift job...I'm not really sure what day I'm on. All I know is that I cannot sit still, and my mind is going crazy. I feel like a could run a marathon. The book said that I would have loads of energy...I'm not sure if this is energy or something else though. Who knows. I'm going to shoot for 10 days though. I'll let you know how it goes. Yes yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Alright, and here's the part of the blog that I rant and rave a litte. Because it is my blog after all, and I can write whatever the hell I want, right? Right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ex girlfriend of my boyfriend, leave him alone. Thank you. We're very happy together, and want nothing to do with you. I'm not a bitch and do not, I repeat, DO NOT, like confrontation. Whatsoever. So I'm not trying to be rude in saying this, but he honestly wants nothing to do with you....and no he will not give you his current address, which happens to be where I live too. If you need to send him something, send it to his Mom's house. You've been there before and know where that's at. Thank you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;That was my little rant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;In other news...wow. I wish I could honestly tell you there's other news, but sadly there is not. OH! I painted the bathroom. And Kendall, Dylan, and myself are going to a concert June 11...Bamboozle Road Show at The Rave in Milwaukee. It shall be awesome =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;(Yes, I'm still bouncing off the walls)&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!lkdjflsfj8938495345lkjflfa.f.a.d...sdlfkjsdlfjsldf467**/*/*-*/*/.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Good night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-4160726037545520876?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4160726037545520876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/fifty-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4160726037545520876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4160726037545520876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/fifty-two.html' title='Fifty-two'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1131039118090176820</id><published>2010-05-08T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T04:38:41.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fifty 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I know that life is not meant to be easy. But I've been having a rough past few weeks...and it's no one's fault in particular, but my own. I'm just an over-analyzer and over-thinker. Maybe those are the same things, but you get my point. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;And in over thinking everything, I stress myself out to no end. I doubt everything and second guess the good things I have in life. Which is never good. If something's not broken, why fix it? Right? Rightttt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So I applied for an office job at the hotel I'm currently doing Night Audit at. I hope I get it because this 3rd shift business is really taking a toll on me. I think that 3rd shift messes with you mind and body...well actually I know that it does. It sucks. If youre ever thinking about getting a 3rd shift job, don't. Just take my advice, and don't do it. You miss soooo much.&amp;nbsp; While you're wide awake, everyone else isn't. And then when you need sleep, you don't want to sleep because you don't want to miss out on anything else that's going on. So then you become exhausted and overworked, stretched too thin, and crabby. It's not a good combination. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Cross you fingers for me. I want that job. I need that job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;My boyfriend leaves for basic training in like a month and a half. =[ It's going to be a hard 3 months without him. I'm going to miss him beyond belief, but I know that in the end it'll be worth it. It's just one of those poopy things you don't want to have to deal with, but really have no choice in the matter. So I'm going to suck it up and be strong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Because that's what I do best. I suck it up and stay strong. That's what I try to do in everything really..whether or not that works out is something else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm literally blogging to stay awake right now. 30 minutes left of this place, and then I can go home and cuddle in bed for roughly 40 minutes. Then I have to get up and get ready for job numero 2. A day a the salon. Yay. Joy. Ugh. Ha ha. Nah, it wont be soooo bad. I've been learning to love what I have. And at the moment I definitely do not love the salon, but I'm learning to like it to say the least. It's a work in progress. I just don't like the drama...aka bitching and etc...there. So I'm ignoring it for the time being. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Let's see, anything else of importance to write about? I have a new kitty =] Olivia. She's adorable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Wow , I guess that's about it. I feel better already =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1131039118090176820?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1131039118090176820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/fifty-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1131039118090176820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1131039118090176820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/fifty-1.html' title='fifty 1'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5644813842179498166</id><published>2010-04-29T23:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T23:17:28.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Ask me anything &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/lac3yma3" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/lac3yma3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5644813842179498166?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5644813842179498166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5644813842179498166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5644813842179498166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5112387883867753107</id><published>2010-04-29T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T22:23:59.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>49!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Facebook Status: Lacey Mae Harris is blogging her heart out. So here I go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'll try not to let you down. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Lately:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;New apartment. Check.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Amazing friends: Kendall, Katie, Emily.&amp;nbsp;Check. (That's to mention only a FEW)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Fantastic boyfriend: Dylan. Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Bills up the butt: Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Growing hair: Hellz Yah Boi, check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Lame ass job(s): Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Shitty car: Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;New piercing: Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;New god daughter, Khloe Grace: Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Best blog this side of the block, lipsticklullabies: Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Out of ideas to write about: Getting there, ugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;A small compiliation of what I have going on. As you can tell, I tend to lead a rather boring life. But most of the time, I&amp;nbsp;am more than&amp;nbsp;okay with that. But I supposed I should delve into further detail with some of this list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ummmm, so. The friends thing is kind of a no brainer. Last weekend Katie and I made the great travel to De Pere, Wi to take my state board tests to get my license to become an official cosmetologist. Yippie! I won't find out if I passed or not for another week or so, but I'm feeling pretty confident =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Boyfriend. Another no brainer. He's the absolute best, and I love every moment that we spend together. Today we went to the mall and out to dinner in Madison...good time. Hu Hot Mongolian Grill...I suggest it to anyone and everyone. Yum yum. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Oh, funny story about the mall....So I had to use the bathroom, but someone was taking their sweet time in one of the stalls, aka, pooping, and there was poo on the seat of the toilet in the other stall. So as Dylan is coming out of the men's room, I asked him if anyone was in there. He said no, so I ran in there quick to pee. Right after I get in the stall, a dude walks in to use the urinal. AWKWARD. I just stood in the stall and waited for him to leave. But as soon as I went to leave the stall, another dude walks in. Ha ha. Most awkward moment ever. But hilarious...I know they could see my evidentally girl flip flops and painted toes underneath the stall. Ha ha oops. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Other things: Bills. They make my life pretty exciting, and tend to take all of my every dollar that I earn each month. Ugh. And it doesnt help that I really don't like my jobs. So I'm looking for a new one, or two. Whatever works. Cross your fingers for me, and if you know of anywhere that will hire a pretty rad chick, let me know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;My cousin just had a baby girl at midnight on Wednesday night/ Thursday morning. Khloe Grace. She's such a doll. And I'm her god mother, yay! =] I can't wait to babysit. Babysitting is nice, because you can always give the kid back when you're done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I got my nose pierced. Well a girl I work with at the salon, does piercings so she did it for free for me. No complaints there =] Oh! And I'm running low on ideas for the lipstick blog. Any ideas, questions, comments, concerns...let me know. Via text, email, myspace, facebook, blog, bottled message, postal mail, anything. I'm open for suggestions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;That's about all that I have going on in my life at the moment. Not very exciting, but I never promised exciting. Until next time Mr. Blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5112387883867753107?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5112387883867753107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/49.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5112387883867753107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5112387883867753107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/49.html' title='49!'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-8867370384429863710</id><published>2010-04-25T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T22:52:55.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>40 eight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, as you know, my last blog was very lengthy and about weight. Blah blah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Well to be honest, I haven't been feeling too great lately. And mostly about myself. I just haven't been very happy with myself. I'm happy in every other department in my life (except job, but that's not uncommon). I've just been facing some major personal struggles lately...and I'm not sure why. But it's making me extremely frustrated =|&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So. I've decided that it stems back to this whole comment that Brandon made to me, and yes, I know that's it's dumb. And I shouldnt let it bother me, but truth of matter is, it does. SOOOOO much. To the point that I hate him. And I don't hate people, that's just not my thing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I was talking to Dylan tonight, after a shitty day...and I was crabby all day. Which sucks because that puts him in a bad mood too, so I felt really bad. But he told me that I almost have this anorexic vibe going on. Like no matter how thin I get it'll never be good enough..I'll always see myself as being fat. And as shocking as that was to hear, he was really right. I know that I'm not fat and not obese...nothing of the sort. I'm not super scary skinny, nor do I ever want to be. But I don't think I'll ever be thin enough for the standards I have set for myself. Which is scary and stupid because I'm encouraging women all over to embrace their curves and love their bodies. But if I cannot love my own, what gives me the right to try and motivate other people to love theirs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It makes me feel like shit when I step onto that scale and see a number that is too high for me. Keep in mind I haven't exceeded 140lbs for about a year. But that's totally unacceptable in my mind for my body. Why? I have no idea. Some days I love my curves and other days, I hate them. Hell, my boyfriend loves them and tells me I'm beautiful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm going to start believing him. I've decided that I'm going to throw out my scale. It's an unhealthy obcession that I have with it. I think I weigh myself every day. Every damn day. That's no way to live. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I want to be healthy. That's my MAIN reason for working out and eating better. Health. So am I not counter-acting that by having this unhealthy obcession with what I look like? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Yeah, I am. So, I'm done with it. This is me changing and turning over a leaf. New me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Starting now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-8867370384429863710?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8867370384429863710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/40-eight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8867370384429863710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8867370384429863710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/40-eight.html' title='40 eight'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2849745830888531679</id><published>2010-04-22T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T02:27:48.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter forty-seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fffbe4; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Okay, well where to start? I guess I should give you a little background information so this all makes better sense.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From ages born to 8 years old, I was a fricken cute kid. Adorable. Born with black hair, and tons of it, that turned to platinum blonde by the time i was 3 or 4 with the biggest blue eyes. Super cute kid...and then. Well, I developed a unibrow and my hair turned into this dingy blonde color that wasn't very cute. And I was a little chubby. Not morbidly obese or even really overweight. Just chubby. I had and still kind of have, these 'chubby' cheeks. I just wasn't that cute anymore. That stage lasted from 5th grade to ohhh maybe sophomore year of high school. Then I started to get out of puberty somewhat and kind of find myself, well as best I was going to so far. I still had this issue though...I was still a little chubby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I never really had a problem with my weight, or the way I seen myself. I never thought that I was chubby at all, and I was pretty confident with my body. I was always running around outside and doing this sport or in this club. I wasn't just sitting on my ass at home eating ho ho's and playing video games. I was active, and I ate healthy full course meals. (I grew up with my grandparents, who believe in home cooked meals for every meal) I mean, I knew that I wasn't the skinniest person, and I had friends who were skinny. Whatever, it didn't bother me and I learned to brush it off for a while...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think I first started having weight issues when I got into 8th grade. There was this guy in my class, and not even a guy that I was the slightest bit attracted to, who called me thunder thighs. Now I have bigger thighs and a bigger butt, but by no means are they that deserving of the name, thunder thighs. But that's what he called me. And really for the first time in my life, I started to pay attention to my body. I noticed that I wasn't a 'skinny' girl. That summer I went to the doctor to have a physical because the next year I was going to go out for summer sports in high school. Whatever, no big deal. Well I have my physical and my doctor..who is a 'skinny bitch' tells me that I could stand to lose a few pounds. Ahhem. I was like 13 or 14 years old, probably 5'1" and at that time I weighed 125lbs. But I could lose a few pounds?!?!? By then, it was engraved in my head that I was 'fat'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So years go by, and I have this thought in my head that I'm a chubby girl, and that if I were skinnier I would be able to date this boy and that boy. And I would be able to wear these clothes and this swimming suit. Ugh, frustrating. I graduate high school weighing I want to say around 145-150lbs. And about a size 10/12. Now I was chubby. After I graduated high school, I wasn't active in sports anymore so gaining weight was very easy. Not to mention my metabolism sucks like no other. I tried dieting and working out ocassionally, but I'm a pretty impatient person. So if something doesnt show result asap, then I quit. I tried starving myself once too..that lasted about two days..and then I realized how utterly ridiculous that was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So in the summer of 2009 I became vegan. It was just a choice that I decided to make, kind of out of nowhere. It wasn't a way of dieting so much as it was being healthy. Diabetes and heart disease run in my family, and I want no part in that. Vegan, meaning no meat, eggs, milk, dairy, no animal by-products. I honestly ate rice, veggies, fruit and potatoes like no others. I never once starved myself though. I lost 15lbs. In roughly a month and a half. I started working out. Running 2-3 miles anywhere from 2-4 times a week. Lifting weights, and I just started to watch what I ate. I had never felt healthier or happier in my life. But I found that being vegan was really starting to put a strain on my body physically. I took a multivitamin, but I wasn't getting all the nutrients that my body needed, so I decided to become vegetarian instead. Which means I still don't eat meat ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So there's the background info, here's my ranting and bitching:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was on the infamous facebook and was chatting with a few friends. On this day in particular I was talking to a guy name Brandon Holsten, with whom I had a relationship with a couple years ago. We actually lived together, but it turned out he was a jerk and a huge momma's boy. Whatever. So him and I were just chatting and all of a sudden he asks me: are you still doing that vegan thing? My response: Well not vegan anymore, but vegetarian still. Him: Ohhhh, I can tell. Me: What do you mean? Him: Well, you've gained wait (he can't spell to save his life). Me: Um. Actually I haven't, still weight the same as I did this summer. Him: Well in your pictures it looks like you have. In the face and stuff. And I'm just being honest and telling you what you're boyfriend wouldnt tell you. When I saw you this summer you were skinny skinny. Me: This is why I broke up with you, youre such an asshole, etc etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;From there he gets defensive and whatever and I blow up on him. Blah blah. Oh and his ex girlfriend decides to stick her nose into it too. What a joy. "but not in a mean way." Ahhh, okay??? SO..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Every woman and a lot of men are insecure with their bodies. It's a given fact, and it sucks. After Brandon insulted me, I cried. I called my boyfriend who then got pissed that I would let such a jerk ruin my day. He reassured me that I was not fat and that I had not gained weight. But eventhough he had reassured me, I still felt like shit. And I'm still mad at the fact that I let such a loser ruin my day. Brandon is a huge jerk, and I regret ever dating him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This is why girls have insecurities abou their bodies. Because douche bags like him think that they are hot shit and can give opinions like that. The only person who can judge you, is yourself. And you shouldn't be that hard on yourself about your weight. Hell, everyone struggles with weight every once in a while, or you can be like me. And struggle with it your whole life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well I guess I'm not struggling with it persay. It's just something that I have an issue with personally. And that sucks. It was something that was almost put inside my head at a young age, and I'm trying my damnest to get over it. Oh, believe me...trying my absolute hardest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've wrote numerous blogs on this whole weight thing. And as much as I would like to say that this will be my last post on this subject, I know it will not be. This is a BIG deal. People die over this kind of thing. Yes, people die over a number on a scale. Whether it be the number is too big, or it's too small. We NEED to get over this subject. We need to move on, and be happy with ourselves. How can we do this? Well I'm going to give you some personal advice that tends to work for me most of the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. I go to my friends or family for support. They would tell me if I was gaining an unhealthy amount of weight and they'd be brutally honest, in the nicest way, about it. Not like some douche bag Brandon who just wants to say I'm fat in the face because he's fat in the head. Ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. I look at myself in the mirror and DON'T pick out my imperfections, but rather my good qualities. And I make sure that I let myself know that I AM beautiful the way that I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. I remind myself that things in my life, and with my body, could be A LOT worse. And I'm thankful that they're not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. Remember that you only live once, and you only have this very ONE body. You should love it for as long as you have it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. Why waste your time being self conscious and worried what other people think? You don't know how long you have on this Earth. I know that I don't want to die unhappy and worried about other's opinions continuously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6. Just imagine how shitty the world would be if everyone were a size fucking 2 with fake tans and blonde hair. How lame would that be? Very.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7. Be happy. And love yourself. Because if you can't love yourself, then no one else can either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I absolutely promise you on everything that is holy, that you ARE beautiful. Did you know that Marilyn Monroe...you know that gorgeous girl that men wanted and women envied..weight 140 lbs at her heaviest and 125 lbs at her very lightest. She was a size 10 in her days which would now roughly be a size 6 today. She was not anorexic. She was a healthy woman...minus the drugs. But you get my point. Plus size models are taking over the modeling world by storm, and those scary skinnys...well they're becoming scary and very unappealing. What guy wants to date someone who counts calories and exercises 13 times a week? Any guy that does is an absolute moron, and should probably jump off of a bridge now to save us all the trouble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I want you to be happy with yourself ladies. Even on those days when you feel like you can't go on, and it's just the end of the rope for you. Just remember that I know you're beautiful, I know it. I don't think it. I know it. And I want you to realize that too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Because curves are beautiful. Every last one of them. &amp;lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Need more inspiration?? www.lipsticklullabies.com&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/7152187397175748190-2849745830888531679?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2849745830888531679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/chapters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2849745830888531679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2849745830888531679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/chapters.html' title='chapter forty-seven'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-4213199762703389991</id><published>2010-04-09T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T00:17:32.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forty 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ahhh hem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So sometimes when I'm at work, just sitting...well standing around, bored out of my mind. I like to ponder life and really analyze my own. In general I try not to think about life too often, because I think it can make a person go crazy...and it just causes too much stress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Stress is a horrible thing most of the time. I mean don't get me wrong, stress, in certain situations can be a good thing. Cause motivation and whatnot, but for the most part, it's not a good thing. I tend to over analyze things which causes me more stress than I'd like to have in my life. But that's life, and life is hard. So I'll deal with it one day at a time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Back to&amp;nbsp;what I was getting at I guess.&amp;nbsp;I analyze life when I'm bored at work.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I think about what I'm going to be&amp;nbsp;doing in ten years and where I'll be at in my life. Will I be starting a family? Will I be married? Have a house? A cat? A car? A life? Who knows.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I can remember about 2 years ago or so, I didn't really want any of these things. Well, I didn't want a family,&amp;nbsp;I didn't want a house,&amp;nbsp;and I sure as hell didn't want to be married. I swore up and down that I never wanted kids. Honestly. My justification was that there&amp;nbsp;are so many kids in the world already that don't have homes, that I didn't want to bring anymore into this world...and if&amp;nbsp;I did decide on having kids, then I would adopt.&amp;nbsp;My thoughts&amp;nbsp;had sensible reason. And the not getting married thing? Well to be honest, I was just screwed over so many times, that I guess it didn't seem logical to put myself on the line like that. How could I, Lacey Mae Harris, trust one person with my heart, for the rest of my life? I've seen so many marriages fall apart. Spouses cheat on eachother or they simply fall out of love with one another. Ugh, that wasn't something that I wanted in my life....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;But now, at 22 years young, I could see myself doing all of these things and so much more. Isn't it amazing how one day you'll wake up, and have a complete different outlook on life? That's happened to me several times, and each outlook just keeps getting better with time. I know that in 10 years time, or less, I would like a family. I want to be married and I DO want to have kids. I think I would still like to adopt as well. Because I do still have that same thought about there being too many kids without homes in the world. And if I can help at least one by sharing my home and my heart, then, hell yeah. I want to do that. Why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;And as for the marriage thing. Yes, I've seen many relationships fall apart. But that's because those people, were...well kind of...I'm searching for a nice word here. Well I guess immature, and maybe not confident enough with themselves to give away their heart to someone else. I truly believe that you have to be confident and love yourself before you can fully give away your heart to someone else. I dont know, it just makes sense to me. So yeah, I could and want to do this marriage thing someday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Hmmm, well I suppose. Those are my thoughts and my analysis of my life tonight....for now. Oh, and I'd like a cat too.&amp;nbsp; =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-4213199762703389991?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4213199762703389991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/forty-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4213199762703389991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4213199762703389991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/forty-6.html' title='Forty 6'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2137483289732105883</id><published>2010-04-02T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T23:17:03.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forteeeeee Fiiivee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Tomorrow Im going to celebrate Easter with the fam. Should be a good time. Lots of great food, games, and family...ahh some of the best things in life. =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So I have a job interview on Monday and I really hope that it goes well. Because if this I get this job, I will be able to quit my other TWO jobs and just stick to &lt;strong&gt;one&lt;/strong&gt; job. You know how long it's been since I've had just one job?? Hell, I can't even recall. I've been working my ass off since I was able to drive, and have had a consistent job since. Ugh. Work work work. That seems to be all that I do, and can you guess where I'm at currently? Work. At least it's a slow night. Thank god. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What to blog about? Sometimes I feel&amp;nbsp;kinda boring when I try to write a blog on here, like I have nothing going on in my life. Well I guess I really don't have too much that really goes on....which I shouldn't be complaining about, because I could have a lot of bad poo happening to me. Instead I have a whole lot of nothing going on, oh well.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I will prove to you how boring and blah my life is...What did I do today? Well let me start at the beginning of my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I got off of work, from my 3rd shift job, at 7am. Drove home, then proceeded to lay down in bed. Before I was even able to cuddle up&amp;nbsp;with my boyfriend to go to sleep, I get a phone call from a girl at work who wanted&amp;nbsp;me to come in&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;work for her because, something blah blah with her kids. Ugh.&amp;nbsp;And because I&amp;nbsp;would feel guilty if I didn't go in, I went in at 10:30 am.&amp;nbsp;So I maybe got a max of 45 minutes of blissful, yeah right, sleep. Worked,&amp;nbsp;cut, and colored hair until 6pm tonight. Made a losey 30$ in tips, then drove home again. Cuddled under my blankets for a good two hour nap, and now I am at the, oh so great, 3rd shift job again until 7am. Joy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So that concludes my&amp;nbsp;day. A whole lot of nothing-ness. But I have the next two entire days off, and yes I said, WHOLE days off. And two in a row to top that off! Oh em gee, I'm about to pee my pants with excitment. Ha ha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;This concludes my blogging until next time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2137483289732105883?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2137483289732105883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/forteeeeee-fiiivee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2137483289732105883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2137483289732105883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/forteeeeee-fiiivee.html' title='Forteeeeee Fiiivee'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-7913459096402847890</id><published>2010-03-27T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T00:53:52.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>44</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;All moved into the new apartment, and most of the painting and all that jazz is complete. HOORAY! About time. I forgot how much stress moving can cause. I was literally at the end of my rope with this and with that.&amp;nbsp; So it's great to be finished with that. I feel bad for Dylan though because I guess I kind of made our room maybe&amp;nbsp;a little girly. Ha ha. So I guess I should probably change that and maybe make it a little unisex. =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I have the absolute worst luck. EVER. Let me list off a few examples of this because I guess I find it to be kind of amusing. And I try not to feel bad for myself, and try to laugh it off. Sometimes it can be hard though. Okay, list!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One time I was on my way to college, and well I'm not too great with directions, so I was going the wrong way for about an hour and a half, and my car started on fire. Literally. My engine caught on fire..from lack of oil in my car. Ha ha. OH, and then I get out of my car (and its the middle of the night) to find out my cell phone is dead. Then once the cop got there, I also found out that the registration on my license plate was expired and my license was expired too. FML.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One time when I was coloring my hair, it fell out. Hence my shortish hair cut now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One time when I was running late for work, I forgot to put my seatbelt on because I was in such a hurry, I got pulled over. Got a ticket. Then when I was about two minutes away from work, I ran out of gas. Not to mention it was raining outside. I was pretty close to a gas station, so I ran to the gas station with my gas can, filled it up. Went to car to find out that one gas can full of gas was not enough to start it, so had to go back to the gas station and fill up again. In the rain. Needless to say, I looked great by the time I got to work (where a boy, my boyfriend now, I had the biggest crush on, worked). FML.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I dont even want to mention how many boy issues I've had. But let's just say that I've had enough for you and me both. Every boyfriend I've ever had, has cheated on me. Yup every last one. But the boyfriend I have now isn't like all of those other boys, so I'm good on that issue now. Let's just say I finally have found good luck in the dating world =] And every time I would get moderately close to a boy, and think that I really liked them, they would somehow screw me over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;When the winter times rolls around, my car tends to like the ditch. A lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One time when I was going to beauty school, I used to have a debit card. Bad idea. Well one of my direct deposit checks didn't get deposited correctly, or the pay date was different, or something like that. And I ended up accumulating about 300$ worth of overdraft fees. Making my checking account have a balance of around -$580.00. Awesome. Needless to say, I got rid of my debit card. OH, and switched banks. Never ever use Associated Bank. They will screw you over and over again. And love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;When I have pretty big ocassions, or a hot date, it never fails, I break out or something insane like that. Ugh, it's the worst to&amp;nbsp;have a date with a huge pimple on your face. Gotta love hormones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One time when I was living in this little po-dunk town called North Freedom...my brother ended up hanging out with some chick who had a boyfriend, which he didnt know about, and at this same time, he had been borrowing my car. Well he ended up making out with this slutty 14 yr old chick, and her boyfriend found out about it. Well the next morning, which was Easter btw, I went out to my car to find a rock thrown through my back windshield. This little punk boy thought that MY car was my brother's car. Um, yeah. Because I'm sure that a 16 yr old boy(my brother) would have an Edward Cullen bumper sticker on their car that says I love boys who sparkle. Makes perfect sense. Ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I got pulled over for going 6 over the speed limit on hwy 12. Which is prettt common for speeding. So I was literally keep up with traffic, but having my luck, was the one pulled over. Then I found out that my license had been suspended. Why may you ask? Because of a 10$ seatbelt ticket. The one I had recieved when I was running late on that raining day. Then when I was taken home by police officer, because he wouldn't let me drive home, I realized that I had left my apartment key in my car. On hwy 12. FML.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I mean you kind of get the hint, right?? I just have horrible luck. Oh, not to mention that I broke a mirror at work like three weeks ago. So we'll see how much worse it gets. So when you think that you have it really bad, just remember, it can be much worse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-7913459096402847890?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7913459096402847890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/44.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7913459096402847890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7913459096402847890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/44.html' title='44'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-7041695128602467463</id><published>2010-03-20T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T04:50:02.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forty-three</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So apparently you're not supposed to blog/twitter/myspace/facebook etc etc about your job. I guess it's something that's frowned upon and is just reason to get fired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Um, well I guess they can fire me because I'm going to take advantage of free speech...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;People at this hotel can kiss my ass. All of them. I run into a nice person, well barely ever. Maybe 1 in 8 people are NICE. The rest are just jerks who have nothing better to do other than give me a hard time. Because they automatically think that I am in utter control of every fucking thing that goes on in this forsaken hotel. Yeah, that's definitely not the case. Here at the front desk, I am a messenger. I take the call and then pass it along. If that person doesn't carry out their job, that is NOT my fault. And I could honestly care less. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;A guy came to the front desk at 6:30am and asked what time the coffee shop opened. I say 7am. He then asks well is there anywhere else to get coffee. I say, not in the hotel until 7am when the coffee shop opens. He then rolls his eyes and as he starts to walk away I start to mention that there is a M Dons he can get coffee at. But nope he keeps walking and ignores me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It shouldnt be a big deal. But that was the topping on a wonderful night. Slight sarcasm in that last statement. I mean come on. What a fucking jerk. Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Enough about my lame job. It pays the bills for now so I'm over it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Today is going to be a long day. But I'm going out with a few friends tonight, so I'm going to work my ass off to make some nice tips and spend it all tonight. MWAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! =] Should be a good night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Oh, and for everyone who cares, New Moon came out on DVD today. Yup!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Well nothing else of importance going on. Just working a lot, packing here and there, loving the hell out of my amazing boyfriend, and sleeping ocassionally. Life is good. Minus annoying job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-7041695128602467463?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7041695128602467463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/forty-three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7041695128602467463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/7041695128602467463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/forty-three.html' title='Forty-three'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3433007239295108927</id><published>2010-03-18T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T23:02:41.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>42</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;A lot to report. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I move out of my current apartment in like two weeks. Wowser, time really flies by. But from there I'm moving about 3 blocks away. Ha ha.&amp;nbsp; =] I'm moving in with one of the coolest chicks I know, and one of the coolest guys I know. So it should be pretty great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm uber tired at the moment, and still have 7hrs of work left. Ridiculous right? Why is it that it's almost impossible to feel cute in work clothes? In fact&amp;nbsp;I feel rather hideous. Ugh. Every time I go home after working, the first thing I do when I walk in, is strip off this forsaken work uniform. GROSS. Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tired tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What else is going on that I can ramble about and waste a little time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh poop I dont know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So with the great luck that I have, last week I got pulled over for going about 10 over the speed limit...which should have been no big deal, because half of the people that I know, go ten over. But whatever, so he was going to give me a warning and let me leave. Really nice cop. Well come to find out, my license got suspended because I had a seatbelt ticket that I hadn't paid yet. Ugh. So I had to get that taken care of and whatever. Dumb luck that I have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I worked close to 70hrs last week between both jobs. My body is sore and I think I'm burnt out. I took two days off this week to try and recover, but no luck. I'm still drained to the max. Blah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well 6 more hours to go and then I will be finished with THIS job. And then I think I may go for a little run, go to the mall and buy these cute capris I've had my eye on for a while, go home and cuddle up with the most amazing guy ever, pass out for a few hours, get up and get ready for my OTHER job. The cuddling part is the part I'm really looking forward to&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; =]&amp;nbsp; I'm so lame, but cuddling with him is one of the best things. Hands down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well until another day. Or night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3433007239295108927?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3433007239295108927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/42.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3433007239295108927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3433007239295108927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/42.html' title='42'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1449481419536620627</id><published>2010-03-10T21:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T21:44:07.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>41</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;It rained today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I absolutely, without a doubt, love the rain. It's my favorite kind of weather..but it has to be the nice warm rain. Rain during snow isn't so great, but every other kind is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm not sure why I like the rain so much. I think maybe because it just seems so peaceful to me. It puts my soul at ease I guess you could say. I'm probably going to sound crazy when I say this...but it seems to rain either when I'm having a really bad day or a really good day. It's so weird, but it never fails. It rained today, and I was happy today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, enough about the weather. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tomorrow is Thursday. And I have off tomorrow night. HOORAY! I have to work at the salon from like noon til 5 or something, but after that it's a night of R&amp;amp;R with the boyfriend. Which will be great considering I haven't seen him for more than 3 hours a day in the past week. And I miss him.&amp;nbsp; =]&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then my next day off isn't until Sunday. Lots and lots of work. Ugh. I need to work to pay the bills though, so I guess I don't have a choice. Life isn't easy and I know this from experience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm glad my parents didn't hand me everything and I was one of the kids who had to work for everything they wanted. I think it made me a better person. More responsible and all that jazz. Whatever, anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I think that's all I have to ramble about tonight. Maybe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1449481419536620627?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1449481419536620627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/41.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1449481419536620627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1449481419536620627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/41.html' title='41'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2588960229768708703</id><published>2010-03-09T02:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T02:36:47.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>40</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;My life has become a blur. I lose track of days and I often find myself questioning what I did the past week. Or even day. Time is going by too fast and running out. I just feel like I can't grasp anything lately. It's such a weird feeling, and I dont like it. I&amp;nbsp;wish that life wasn't so difficult sometimes. And that money didn't make the world go&amp;nbsp;'round.&amp;nbsp;I like to&amp;nbsp;think&amp;nbsp;it doesn't,&amp;nbsp;and I tend to think that love should make the world go 'round. but it's so difficult to believe this when you're working two jobs, trying to make end's meat to afford an apartment, a car payment,&amp;nbsp;a cell phone bill, and&amp;nbsp;food here and there to survive.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;I want to live off of love. I'm so sick of being so dependent upon money. It's rather depressing. And I hate that the world is like this. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But I've been one to say that if you dont like something about your life, then change it. And I definitely know that it's easier said than done. But I honestly believe that's how it has to be. No one can change your life, but you. And I'm not saying that I have a bad life, whatsoever.&amp;nbsp;I'm just saying that there are a few things that could use a little revamp. Such as my job. One of the two are horrible and I've been saying this for months.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So why don't I do something about it? Because it pays well. It makes the world go&amp;nbsp;'round. It allows me to pay my stupid bills, and&amp;nbsp;have a good time every once in a while.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But isn't it better to be happy and poor than&amp;nbsp;'rich' and unhappy? I'd like to think so.&amp;nbsp;What I would like even more is to think there could&amp;nbsp;be&amp;nbsp;a happy medium to both of these. That's what I'm searching for. Being happy and stable in my financial situation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I do not see myself&amp;nbsp;remaining at this hotel for the rest of my life(thank god).&amp;nbsp;I honestly don't see myself being here by the end of the&amp;nbsp;year...and I honestly believe that when I leave this job, I'll be loads happier.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;3rd shift jobs mess with your mind and state of being. I've done this particular&amp;nbsp;3rd shift job for about a&amp;nbsp;year and a half.&amp;nbsp;Wow.&amp;nbsp;I think it's bringing me down, and I don't like that at all....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So, what am I going to do about it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Change it.&amp;nbsp;ASAP. Promise. &amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2588960229768708703?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2588960229768708703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/40.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2588960229768708703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2588960229768708703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/40.html' title='40'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3231302429642186508</id><published>2010-03-03T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T05:01:08.681-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirty-nine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Im moving into a new place with my best friend Katie. We're painting tonight, and I'm pretty pumped about it. Let me explain the place a little bit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It has vaulted ceilings, two bedrooms, a huge living room/dining room, small kitchen, laundry room, and uber amounts of closests. Why one apartment would need that many closets is beyond me. But it's a great place. OH! And it has one of those fancy speaker things where you can talk to the person in the hallway. Yeah. Amazing, right? Ha ha. I love the little things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;But anyway...we're painting tonight. Living room is going to be this cranberry color, kitchen and hallways a light-ish tanbrownoffwhiteish kind of color, Katie's room an orange color, and my room a brighter-ish green. I'm thinking that I'm going to have an earthy feel for my room and decorate it myself. It's going to be rad. I've been checking out a lot of do it yourself websites and have gotten some pretty cool ideas from them. =] Pumped!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Not to mention I just bought a new QUEEN SIZE BED! Oh, and a brand spankin new couch and love seat! Damn. Thanks Dylan and Dylan's Dad for helping me out with those purchases&amp;nbsp; =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So today is going to be a great day. Another great day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3231302429642186508?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3231302429642186508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/thirty-nine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3231302429642186508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3231302429642186508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/03/thirty-nine.html' title='Thirty-nine'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2801180621783352517</id><published>2010-02-27T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T22:02:58.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>38</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I am at the point where I literally hate my job in the Dells. I do not want to be here anymore. I've come to a point in my life, where this job literally makes me insane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Insane to the point where I want to scream. I've been here long than I should have been, and they don't care. I have no say in anything, whatsoever. I hate hate hate hate it here. Ugh. Did I mention that I hate it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Okay, yes. And you may be wondering why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Well out of nowhere, they decided to change my schedule. My schedule that I've had for the past 1 1/2. Oh my. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm looking for a new job on Monday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2801180621783352517?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2801180621783352517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/38.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2801180621783352517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2801180621783352517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/38.html' title='38'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1948516319221616468</id><published>2010-02-23T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T22:09:43.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 37</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;11:59pm. I have yet to live another day on this planet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I want to travel. Fly somewhere foreign. Backpack across new terrain. I just want to do something cool in my life. Go somewhere. Meet new people. See new things. Anything would be amazing I'm sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Let's see...I've been to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Arkansas. Not that great at all. Really boring and A LOT of hicks, but go figure. Oh, I forgot to mention really BIG spiders and dry dry dry humid air...which in turn cause nose bleeds for me. Yay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Colorado. Beautiful. I would abosolutely not mind living there someday. Have a family, and settle down. It snows one day and melts the next. It's just gorgeous and not to mention, the people are insanely friendly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;California. Ugh. Disgusting and stinky. The movies really don't do it justice in all the wrong ways. I've never felt so violated by walking out the front door and have never smelt air so foul in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Illinois. No thanks. Enough said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, wow that pretty much sums up my great list of places I have been. Nothing too spectacular...but I'm willing and wanting to change that! If only travel didn't cost an arm and a leg! I suppose I should start saving up some dinero. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;On another note. Today was a good day. I took a litte nap after work, then went to pick up my car and get Dylan's oil changed at my grandparents in the big 'ol city of Cazenovia. Population: nothing. Then Dylan and I worked out at Great Wolf and now I'm currently working. Nothing too exciting, but all in all a good day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well that about concludes all my ramblings for tonight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Until we meet again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1948516319221616468?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1948516319221616468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/chapter-37.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1948516319221616468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1948516319221616468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/chapter-37.html' title='Chapter 37'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3960348439473836662</id><published>2010-02-22T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T21:36:10.718-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randoms'/><title type='text'>36!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm going to try and make it a goal to write on this site at least 3-4 times a week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Okay, new goal. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I am currently at my 3rd shift job, which is doing night audit at a hotel in a lame tourist town. Wisconsin Dells. Yay! &lt;----loads of sarcasm inserted here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I mean it could be a lot worse. But anything in life could be a lot worse. I mean, I could be working in a factory somewhere doing the same routine job day in and day out. But instead I work at a Salon in Sauk doing hair and such, and at a hotel in the Dells. All in all, it could be worse. And eventually I would LOVE to quit this hotel job. I mean I have been working here about 6 years (not always doing night audit). And 6 years of ANYTHING, is a long time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Tomorrow it's been one month since I started dating this pretty amazing boy.  =]  Yay! &lt;---no sarcasm inserted here. This is a sincere YAY! &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm happy to say that I havent really came across too many obstacles lately. Let's hope it stays that way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well, until another time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3960348439473836662?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3960348439473836662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/36.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3960348439473836662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3960348439473836662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/36.html' title='36!'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-659262725761597451</id><published>2010-02-22T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T04:06:06.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>35</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Post number thirty-five and I have absolutely no idea what to write about...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;It seems like it's easier to write about something..anything..when things aren't going as well as you would have liked in your life. And it's much more difficult when things are actually going how they should be for once. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;And I'm definitely okay with things going the way they should, because it's rarely happened in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I don't think many people read this blog anyway, so if I'm just rambling down a bunch of useless thoughts, I doubt that anyone will care =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Well I've had short hair for about three weeks now, and I've gotten used to it. A little. I guess. Thanks to the reassurance from friends, family, and Dylan that is. Ha ha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; And with this whole hair fiasco, it makes me realize how much a person can rely on their appearance or assume that that's what makes them the individual they are. While this holds some truth to it, I dont think it's everything. And it's a little weird, I guess, how much emphasis people put on appearance. In all reality that's not how it should be, but *sigh*. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;There are a lot of things in this world that shouldn't be how they really are. But what are you going to do about it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Speaking of which. I just want to rant about something that's been bothering me lately...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I really loathe when someone constantly complains about something bad in their life or how they don't like this or they don't like that. Or that they're fat or they're lonely or blah blah. Well, why don't you do something about it already? I'm not going to give you advice on this and that, when you're not going to take it anyway. So, get over it. And do something to change your life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Okay. Enough for now I suppose!  =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-659262725761597451?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/659262725761597451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/35.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/659262725761597451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/659262725761597451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/35.html' title='35'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2661529111166082783</id><published>2010-02-14T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:23:02.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirty-Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;At the moment I am at a loss. I dont know about certain happenings anymore. It's so weird the way life works out. So weird. And like I said, I dont know how I feel about some of them. Ugh. I wish that I could be handed all the answers and be told what to do. But I know that life does not work that way, and I know that in the end it will all be worth it. But at the moment...at this very moment I am having a hard time learning to except the inevitable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I am having a hard time being a human being and learning for experiences. I just do not know. I dont know what to think. I dont know what to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And for some people, you will not know what I am talking about in this blog, and that's okay. Because these are my thoughts and you do not have to understand them all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Things are going amazing with the new boyfriend and my friends so no worries there. Fyi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I just tend to over analyze and think about things way too much. It's something that I've tried to work on, but have been unsuccessful with. Unfortunately. Ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm on edge and tense at the moment. That's my current writing status.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My mind is racing and I'm kind of uneasy I guess you could say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;It's so strange.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Things are so strange. Wow. Wow.Honestly?? I just don't get it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm totaly lost and at awe at some things. I mean honestly. People. Are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I don't know. I'm finding it hard to concentrate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2661529111166082783?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2661529111166082783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/thirty-four.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2661529111166082783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2661529111166082783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/thirty-four.html' title='Thirty-Four'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-8595237683080901914</id><published>2010-02-09T03:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:14:50.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>33</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So as you can probably tell from my lack of blogging, that the writers block has yet to lift. So I'm going to try and piece together some kind of blog. Because I feel that it's necessary to keep up with this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I've been really happy lately. I can blame this on my uber amazing friends and great boyfriend. So:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Kendall, Katie, and Dylan...and everyone else for that matter...thank you. You make getting up in the morning and living another day, worth while. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Love Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I've been having some pretty crazy dreams lately. Like end of the world kind of dreams and it makes me wonder about the end of the world. I mean I know it's going to happen. And Man, I believe, is going to be the leading cause. I think that we all need to take responsibility and do something about our actions. I feel like something needs to be done ASAP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Okay, so that was my little rant there. I have those from time to time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I like the fact that I'm pretty opinionated. I think it's a good quality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I guess that's all for now. Love one another and don't let the little things get you down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-8595237683080901914?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8595237683080901914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/33.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8595237683080901914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8595237683080901914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/33.html' title='33'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5134794252544592930</id><published>2010-02-03T04:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:14:35.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>32</title><content type='html'>Life is strange.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5134794252544592930?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5134794252544592930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/32.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5134794252544592930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5134794252544592930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/32.html' title='32'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5850346074453144234</id><published>2010-01-30T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:14:27.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'>31!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;NEWS FLASH!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Things are going pretty good in my life at the moment. With one exception.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I now have short hair and I dont really like it. I don't have short hair on purpose though, it was definitely an accident. And the story to go along with it, is a pain in the butt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5850346074453144234?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5850346074453144234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5850346074453144234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5850346074453144234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/31.html' title='31!!'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-792646070738364894</id><published>2010-01-25T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T22:50:43.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Wow, chapter 30. That's pretty crazy. Crazy to think that I started this side project not even a year ago and I'm only at 3o chapters. My life must be somewhat boring if that's all I've been able to write. Oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So things are still going pretty well in life. And I don't have too many complaints. I hit a few rocky parts with a few things, but I'd like to think that all problems are solved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;=]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think I've said this before..But I like to think we're all put on this earth to love one another. I believe that is one of our very purposes for being alive. And I believe another one is to make someone else, as well as yourself, happy. I think that love and happiness coincide with one another and are very attainable in life. These are things that you don't have to to look for. They just happen. Fate has the upper hand in these things in life. And of course you have some control over them yourself...But for the most part, we should let 'nature run its course.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;What else is new and exciting in my life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;Well, I have recently attained a short hair cut. Not particularly by choice, but it works. And I'm still really getting used to it, but it works. I've never ever had short hair in my life. The shortest my hair has ever been, was roughly close to chin length. And now its shorter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;Things with the boyfriend are amazing  =] &lt;3&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;I'm loving my new job as a hair stylist. When I went to beauty school, I liked doing hair okay. But it wasn't something that I thought I would grow to love. And now, I really do love it. And it helps that the place I work at is cool as hell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;And my friends are ridiculously amazing as usual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;So no complaints as of yet! Hooooooray!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-792646070738364894?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/792646070738364894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/792646070738364894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/792646070738364894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-30.html' title='Chapter 30'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1987630223468065856</id><published>2010-01-17T04:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T04:55:20.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 29</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Just to keep up with this blog I suppose..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Things are going pretty well. I ran into a few obstacles here and there, but then again, that's normal. It's normal that I have such terrible luck. Because if I didn't have bad luck, I wouldnt have any kind of luck at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sad, but true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm working two jobs currently. Great Wolf Lodge and Cloud 9 Day Spa and Salon. Yup, now you can creep on me if you so desire. If you choose to creep on me at the salon, you better be spending some money and getting a hair cut then. And you better tip me, because I do a damn good job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Off subject..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So two jobs, a boy, and a little life. NOt too bad indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1987630223468065856?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1987630223468065856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-29.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1987630223468065856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1987630223468065856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-29.html' title='Chapter 29'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3506176582966127723</id><published>2010-01-09T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T01:00:30.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>28</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;I've had extreme writer's block lately. And I doubt that anyone even reads my blog...But for those who do...I have extreme writer's block.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;I have a boy. He's amazing. And he makes me unbelievably happy. Which is pretty rare to find. Actually, I've never found someone of the opposite sex, who makes me as happy as he does. Which is kind of scary for me. Well not so much scary, but different I suppose. I love it though. He's great. So thanks =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;The new year is going pretty well so far. I realize it just started and there's a whole lot left to the year, but as of late, I have no complaints. Which is a plus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;Besides the fact that I have an extreme case of insomnia. It's currently 3am and I have a job interview tomorrow at noon. I mean I'm used to going on like 4 or 5 hours of sleep, so it's not a big deal. But it would be extremely nice to be able to sleep more than that. And at a normal and decent time too. Ohhh well. I guess that's all the nonsense I have for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#FF99FF;"&gt;I'm hoping this writing block will lift soon, and I can scribble down tons and tons of nonsense soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3506176582966127723?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3506176582966127723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3506176582966127723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3506176582966127723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/28.html' title='28'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-65139732280119968</id><published>2010-01-02T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T05:00:07.427-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='=]'/><title type='text'>chapter 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Time for a story? I think so. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And I'm going to really leave out a lot of the facts, for the simple fact that this blog is not intended to be SUPER long..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I met a boy. And I really like him. Like a lot. And I dont want it to seem like I like a new boy all the time. Because that's the not the case. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I've like this boy for a while, well since the very first time I hung out with him. But he had a girlfriend, so it was a little hard to do anything about that. But things are different now, and I can't stop thinking about him. He's nothing short of amazing. He pretty much won my heart over without even trying. Wow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Patience really is a virtue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, that's what's going on. Something great. For once. It's about damn time.  =] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-65139732280119968?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/65139732280119968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/65139732280119968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/65139732280119968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/chapter-27.html' title='chapter 27'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5009421963145336620</id><published>2009-12-19T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T04:33:37.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>26!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So at this point, I would be thinking that I should start to have some stuff figured out. I mean at least some things. But I keep questioning myself, and in turn, accomplish nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I just dont' understand. I'm going to rant for a paragraph and most of it isn't going to make sense to anyone else who reads it, but to me it will...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I just dont understand. I want it to be better for you and i think i know how it's possible to achieve that and yet you dont take advantage of it. I mean its your choice and I cant do anything about it. But honestly. Ugh. Grrr. It makes me so frustrated. And this is how i feel it's going to be. im just going to be there for you when you need me and thats it. and of course i will be. because that's what friends do. they're there for eachother. but what if i want to be more than just there for you. what if i want to be always there. and i know now that that's not what you could ever want because you're stuck on something that's not good for you. if it's, if she's, so good for you, then why does she cause you so much pain and confusion. Love isn't confusing. love is kind and caring and just there. it's so simple. but i guess it's not for you. i mean, you're not the only one with problems, with issues and stuff going on in their life. shit happens. It kills me to know that you stick around and put up with something like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;you dont have to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So im just going to have to let go. I dont know whether its healthy or not, how easily I can break a connection with a boy. I mean, how easily I can start to get over someone? I guess that just proves how uncertain life can be? I have no idea. I just know that I can't wait around. I've learned that lesson before...I waited and waited and then he moved a thousand miles away, wanting nothing more from me than friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So I can't let it be like this again. And I won't. I won't put myself in that situation anymore, and I wont put myself on the line like that again. Moving on. Okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5009421963145336620?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5009421963145336620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5009421963145336620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5009421963145336620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/26.html' title='26!'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-8321911141496053360</id><published>2009-12-15T21:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T21:48:30.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 25</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Aren't the chances and choices we make in life, what make up the person we are today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And we should take these chances and make these choices, because if we don't then nothing is going to happen. We're going to come to a stand still in life. And far too often I think people complain that their life is too boring and blah blah. I think they're complaining because they're not taking these chances and making these indefinite choices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You cant and shouldn't sit by and watch your life go by. You should be a part of it. I've decided to be a part of my life. And the choices I make may not be the right ones, but at least I'm making them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Quitting my temporary second job may not be a good choice, and hell I kind of know that it's not, but I would rather be poor, than unhappy. Any day. And at the moment, I am poor and at the moment, I am happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Karma has a funny way of working and I totally believe that it does work. What goes around comes around. Which may not always be a pleasant thing, but it's a true thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So love one another and take chances and make choices. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-8321911141496053360?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8321911141496053360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/chapter-25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8321911141496053360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8321911141496053360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/chapter-25.html' title='Chapter 25'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1291052275090888564</id><published>2009-12-08T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T05:00:51.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>24</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I don't want to sound super lame when I write this, and that may be how it comes out, but oh well right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, after watching New Moon 4 times, yes 4, there was a line in that movie that really stuck with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;'Learn to love what's good for you'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Now this can be taken multiple ways...but here's the way I'd like to interpert it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Say you have immense feelings for someone, we'll call him Edward =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And Edward decides he doesnt want you anymore and moves far away. Leaving you heart broken and confused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You feel like you've lost all hope and nothing can go right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;BUT then comes along this awesome indivual, we'll call him Jacob =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And Jacob makes the pain go away and makes you sane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Of course you could never love Jacob as much as you love Edward. But why not give him a chance? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;After all, Edward left you alone and obviously didn't care as much as he said he did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;That's the impression I'm getting at least. So I think this Jacob character deserves a chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad for you. Right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Let's hope I get Jacob to come into my life now. Pppplease???? =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1291052275090888564?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1291052275090888564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1291052275090888564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1291052275090888564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/24.html' title='24'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-4207741573108675682</id><published>2009-12-02T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T04:35:24.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 23!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, who knows where I'm going to be in 10 years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have no idea...but if i could guess, and if I could have things my way. Here's how they would go:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I would 32(ew) and happily in love. Truly, madly, and deeply in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I may have a kid or two. Maybe not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I would have a steady job that I love. And maybe going back to school for another job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I would live in a house and would be happy where I'm at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Happiness would probably not be in Wisco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I mean something along those lines. I dont want to set anything stone. Because that makes life predictable. And I like the unpredictable part of life. It makes me happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I love randomness and happiness and peace-ness, and everything-ness. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;New tattoo: to go with my star tattoo on my wrist. Love is my weapon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;.Peace.&lt;3.happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-4207741573108675682?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4207741573108675682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/chapter-23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4207741573108675682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4207741573108675682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/chapter-23.html' title='Chapter 23!'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2696465806327018821</id><published>2009-11-02T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T04:58:21.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 22</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I need to know that two people can fall in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And not only fall in love, but stay in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I need to know that some day, I am going to find the person of my dreams and I am going to love them unconditionally. I want to find this security in life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Maybe not now. But I just need to know that this can happen. I've only seen a few couples who have stuck with eachother for the long haul. One of them being my grandparents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And although they may not like eachother all the time, I can tell that they love eachother all the time. I want to find this in my life. I want to find undying love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that these things take time, and you shouldn't rush fate. And blah blah blah. But. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope that someday I am lucky enough to feel this kind of love in my life, because...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beatles say it best, All you need is love. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2696465806327018821?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2696465806327018821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/11/chapter-22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2696465806327018821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2696465806327018821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/11/chapter-22.html' title='Chapter 22'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-4936120703923711349</id><published>2009-10-10T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T00:39:05.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;We go through life, wondering whats important. And we, well i know myself at least, question more than we should.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I dont think that life is as complicated as we make it out to be. I'm not sure why we tend to overexaggerate things. But I know I tend to. And I think I just want to stop doing this. I know I want to stop doing this. I want to stop questioning every motive, every move I make, every choice that pops into my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So. I'm booking a flight. I dont have much money, and I think thats okay. Cause you make yourself happy and the rest will come. Right? Right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;All you need is love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;This stands true for me. This &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; all you need. This &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; all I want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I was once told that; I'm the kind of girl who always needs someone (a boy) in my life to be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I was pissed when I was told this. And I thought to myself, no this guy is totally wrong. That I can be &lt;em&gt;entirely&lt;/em&gt; happy in my life without a boy at all times. And it took me this long to figure it out....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I can be happy without a guy. True. But not entirely. I know I can live and survive without a boy, this much I know is true. I'm a very independent person. But. I think I need this particular guy in my life to be happy. Entirely. Whether he feels the same or not, is another story. And it's one that I do not know the ending to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So what am I going to do once I get off the plane? What am I looking for? I have no idea. But I know that I'm done second guessing myself. I'm done wishing things were different. I'm done wanting this and that. I'm just going to go for it. I only live once, and if I never tried, then I'll never know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-4936120703923711349?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4936120703923711349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/10/chapter-21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4936120703923711349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/4936120703923711349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/10/chapter-21.html' title='Chapter 21'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6599287163504354097</id><published>2009-09-29T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T23:44:46.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just know that I could have and would have loved you with my entire heart.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And now I can't give you my all anymore. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can't keep waiting, and hoping, and praying that someday you'll change.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Change your mind and come back.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not going to happen. Life goes on. Right?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You changed. You wanted to fit in. And now you do.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But you don't fit in with me. You don't fit in my life anymore.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But know, that I could have loved you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And would have forever.&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/7152187397175748190-6599287163504354097?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6599287163504354097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/chapter-20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6599287163504354097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6599287163504354097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/chapter-20.html' title='Chapter 20'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-9206007126780376516</id><published>2009-09-09T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T00:31:16.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SqdXgIT47xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1xAcpyz_-SQ/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379364489415683858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SqdXgIT47xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1xAcpyz_-SQ/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, I'm really liking life lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Eventhough the love department has not been too friendly to me, I'm still enjoying what I've got going on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm moving to a new apartment in a week, a studio, with one room. Should be fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Vintage Photos closed it's doors for good. That was a sad day. It made me realize how good I actually had it. I've made some amazing friends working there and met other cool people. I seriously had the easiest job in the world, and got paid pretty well doing it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Paul Fitzgerald is a douche bag and ran the business into the ground. I guess that's what happens when you like hookers, booze, drugs, and gambling. Hmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Note to self: stay away from nasty shit like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Anyway. What else is new??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Less than a month of school left. It's going to be weird getting out of that hell hole. Although I'm not complaining. I'm just not ready to grow up and get a big girl job yet. I want to have fun the rest of my life. I don't want all this responsibility.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Who made up this idea that when you get older you have to deal with more shit, anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;GRRRRR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;whatevs. I'll be fine. But I think we all need to more to Neverland with Peter Pan and enjoy being young forever. I'm down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ahhhh. Until another day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-9206007126780376516?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/9206007126780376516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/chapter-19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/9206007126780376516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/9206007126780376516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/chapter-19.html' title='Chapter 19'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SqdXgIT47xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1xAcpyz_-SQ/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6585056743132547730</id><published>2009-08-17T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T04:58:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 18</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Okay. So i work at a hotel in wisconsin dells, and also an old time photo studio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Deal with lots and lots of people on a daily basis, oh and not to mention i go to school for cosmetology(which im almost done with!), so honestly lots of people every damn day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Okay i like people. Most of the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;BUT lately, people are so damn bitchy and rude that its ridiculous!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Honestly people, you are on vacation! why are you yelling and screaming at me, when half of the problems you have, i did not start or have anything to do with!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I just dont understand how so many people can be so upset!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Shouldnt we be spreading peace, love, and joy in this world. isnt there enough animosity and hate to go around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I mean i just do&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; understand. What makes it okay to let your anger out on a complete stranger?!?! Nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So I don't put up with it. I dont care if you bitch at me. Lady I am not giving you a discount on your hotel room. And sir, I cannot fix your face, we're not retaking your photo and you're not getting your money back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So get over it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Learn to love life and stop being such a debbie downer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I do not care about your meaningless problems that are probably ridiculous things that you can control yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;All the problems I have, are my fault. I'm not going to yell or be a bitch to someone else just because i have some issue going on in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Grrrrrrr. Mean Tourists, go back to where you came from. And stop being rude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;OH! and learn how to drive. K thanks :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6585056743132547730?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6585056743132547730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/08/chapter-18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6585056743132547730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6585056743132547730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/08/chapter-18.html' title='chapter 18'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-8772673603833206611</id><published>2009-08-03T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T01:13:39.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Do you have any idea what it's like to be incredibly frustrated with your life at the moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES?! Well me too. I'm there, and it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that I dont think I've ever been this frustrated in my life. Ever. I have so much poop going on at the moment, that it's driving me insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not literally, but pretty close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this thing going on with my family. And my brother is going to have to move in with me. Which is fine and everything, cause i love him to death, and would do absolutely anything for him, cause he's amazing. But I'm only 21, and I want to do amazing things. And go amazing places. So now I'm putting that on hold. Which, I'll get over eventually. And everything happens for a reason, so I'm thinking that this is just another one of life's lessons.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I let myself like this boy a little bit, and he turned out to be a dickhead. I will never understand men. This conclusion I have came to. They're mentally retarded in some way. So this boy said he liked me, and said he wanted to see eachother. Wtf does that even mean? Seeing eachother? Duh, I know who i see and dont see. I'm not blind. Why not call it dating? Whatever. So we're seeing eachother right? And then I find out he's like got something going on with this myspace chick. Wow, I dont feel like shit, being replace by some random chick on myspace. Nah, no big deal. So I tell him to kick rocks and well basically tell him he's like every other dude out there in this forsaken world. So congrats to you Criss. You're a minipulative jerk, who claims to be something different and claims to do this and do that, and blah blah, i have emotions and shit, and I'm sooo deep, and i've been hurt by girls so i would never do that to someone, and i dont do this and i dont do that, and blah blah, i care and i feel, and my hair makes me who i am, and i dont cheat and i dont lie, and i think youre awesome, but i dont want to talk to you anymore, and i want to tell you these things but mean none of them and blah blah blah blah. Quit feeding me full of your bullshit. Because that's all you did. Wow. okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel better. I literally just let out a sigh of relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. I'm almost finished with cosmo-freaking-tology college. Thank the stars. I'm ready to move on with my life.&lt;br /&gt;I just need something amazing to happen. Soon. Please oh please. If you know of something awesome, or you are something awesome, happen to my life. ASAP. Like fifteen minutes ago. Please?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-8772673603833206611?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8772673603833206611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/08/chapter-17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8772673603833206611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/8772673603833206611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/08/chapter-17.html' title='chapter 17'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6734312144463699794</id><published>2009-07-20T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T01:18:25.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chpt 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;hi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have no idea what to do anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Bye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6734312144463699794?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6734312144463699794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chpt-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6734312144463699794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6734312144463699794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chpt-16.html' title='chpt 16'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6992018397163912410</id><published>2009-07-14T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T23:15:24.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter fifteen</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;What would it be like to give your all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Your everything to someone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I want to know what this is like. And I want to get the same in return. I think it would be wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Now I know that things don't just happen over night. But why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Why can't you feel such strong emotions for someone in a short time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I know that society would say that you're rushing things and moving too fast, and that it probably wouldn't work out. Blah Blah. Yeah I've heard it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But I think I could be different. I think that I would want to give someone my entire being. To let them care for me as I would lovingly do for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ugh. I'm such a hopeless romantic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But I love it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6992018397163912410?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6992018397163912410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-fifteen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6992018397163912410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6992018397163912410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-fifteen.html' title='chapter fifteen'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1538014382255476297</id><published>2009-07-08T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T02:57:49.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter fourteen</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SlRtIZm7HgI/AAAAAAAAABg/c2-Le2Btjr0/s1600-h/070709_1124%5B00%5D-745182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356025847930887682" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SlRtIZm7HgI/AAAAAAAAABg/c2-Le2Btjr0/s320/070709_1124%5B00%5D-745182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Don't Mind That I'm Sideways =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I am happy. Isn't happy such an awesome word to just look at. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my favorite emotion. And I'm full of it right now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Lacey Mae&lt;br /&gt;Things seem to be going my way. And I love it. =]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought things couldn't get worse.&lt;br /&gt;They got better. Even better than I could ever imagine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy&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/7152187397175748190-1538014382255476297?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1538014382255476297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-fourteen_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1538014382255476297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1538014382255476297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-fourteen_08.html' title='Chapter fourteen'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/SlRtIZm7HgI/AAAAAAAAABg/c2-Le2Btjr0/s72-c/070709_1124%5B00%5D-745182.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2110940553206685024</id><published>2009-07-06T01:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T23:02:33.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 13</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think that i have been wasting my time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Wasting it away with some nonsense. Nonsense that just doesn't make any sense to me. But i guess that's the point of nonsense, is it not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Here, I thought I had something amazing, indescribable, wonderful. But all along, it was just convenient for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Is that all I'm ever going to be for a guy? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Convenient?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I was a girl that you decided to string along until you decided you had enough of me. Until you decided that it was time to move along for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well, I guess now it's my time to move on. Time to say goodbye to feelings you never felt, but ones I felt stronger than no other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You can't say that you meant all the words you say. You can't pretend that meant them. You can't and shouldn't string along a girl whose heart could have been yours. Someone who poured their every last feeling into your heart, but you never gave a shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, now I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Don't call me your soulmate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Don't call me your anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You never truly wanted to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And now I truly don't want you to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I truly want to go back in time. Back to the time when I decided that I loved you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I Loved you. Do you grasp that? Do you understand what love even is? It's supposed to be this wonderful and indescribable feeling that brings you so much joy and happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You've changed the meaning of love for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Not only is it something that brings happiness, but now it brings me tears and sorrow. Pain and trechary. And things I don't want to associate with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Like you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm done with you, like you were done with me..after convenient wasn't so convenient anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-2110940553206685024?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2110940553206685024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2110940553206685024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2110940553206685024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/07/chapter-13.html' title='chapter 13'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6102338876084698940</id><published>2009-06-30T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T02:01:07.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes I like to write.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whats fair&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;what isn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to be told one thing&lt;br /&gt;but show another?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to fall in love&lt;br /&gt;and not get it in return?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it really better to have loved and lost&lt;br /&gt;than to have never loved at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is love really unconditional?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to give your heart away&lt;br /&gt;only to watch it be stepped upon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair as i look into your eyes once more&lt;br /&gt;knowing that i'll never see them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never see them smile or shine my way&lt;br /&gt;ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair for you to say you love me&lt;br /&gt;but leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not fair.&lt;br /&gt;there are no answers.&lt;br /&gt;no easy ways out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not real.&lt;br /&gt;it's made up and hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to have found a soulmate.&lt;br /&gt;a being opposite of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to only watch them walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do i show my ture emotions&lt;br /&gt;while you keep yours hidden?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair for me to be real with you&lt;br /&gt;but not get the same in return?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to lead someone on&lt;br /&gt;and not care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it fair to be a coward&lt;br /&gt;to give excuses of why you cant try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cant try to love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is not fair.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffff33;"&gt;Just a poem i wrote. idk i kinda like it. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6102338876084698940?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6102338876084698940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6102338876084698940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6102338876084698940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-12.html' title='Chapter 12'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6138639398451596286</id><published>2009-06-22T22:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:29:22.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ummmmm.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So I pretty much hate my job. I work at a hotel. At the front desk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;And people are SOOOOOOO RUDE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;You're supposed to be on vacation people. Let's not forget that. And ahhh I can't control everything freakin thing that happens to you while you're on vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So do not take it out on me. GEEEEZ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Anyway. On a lighter note.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I got my sternum repierced. And....I love it! I'm just hoping this one doesn't reject like it has before. blah blah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;OH did I mention that I'm still head over heels for this awesome guy who doesn't live in Wisconsin. Yeah yeah. Some may say I'm retarded for waiting. But whatever. I'm a loser I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Sometimes. ha ha ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Marley's this weekend! I cannot wait. =]&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6138639398451596286?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6138639398451596286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6138639398451596286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6138639398451596286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-11.html' title='Chapter 11'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-2858786414876508403</id><published>2009-06-17T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T01:37:16.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 10</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/Sji302VBZII/AAAAAAAAABY/niDPhlQGGF4/s1600-h/060609_2036%5B00%5D-758775.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348226676067230850" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/Sji302VBZII/AAAAAAAAABY/niDPhlQGGF4/s320/060609_2036%5B00%5D-758775.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ha ha. Kendall and myself at work. These are our foreign lady faces.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well well...it's been a few days.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I can't wait til I'm done with school. I'm so sick of it right now. It's just getting on my nerves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything about it!&lt;br /&gt;OH well.&lt;br /&gt;So yes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just started this new diet thing. It's called the raw food diet. And it's just like it sounds. Basically I'm thinking about becoming vegan. No dairy, no meat, nothing cooked over 116 F. Yah, we'll see. I'm only on day 4. But going strong!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you read the Twilight Saga?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with it. Oh.&lt;br /&gt;I think I found my Edward Cullen. =] Maybe. teehee.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welllll that's all the randoms I have for now!&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/7152187397175748190-2858786414876508403?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2858786414876508403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/ha-ha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2858786414876508403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/2858786414876508403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/ha-ha.html' title='Chapter 10'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/Sji302VBZII/AAAAAAAAABY/niDPhlQGGF4/s72-c/060609_2036%5B00%5D-758775.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6451593535805577162</id><published>2009-06-03T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T04:36:11.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sometimes I don't understand how things work. In particular, life. But things happen for a reason right??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So I'm hoping. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Why else would be tempted with something that could be so great, just to have it taken away. there's a reason, that's the only explanation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But at the same time, it's so hard to deal with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, i think for now, i'm going to try and forget about it...well maybe not forget, but push it to the back of my mind. It really hurts to know what i can't have right now, and to think of it all the time, hurts even worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Oh, and to make things even better, i don't know who my true friends are anymore. I know a few of them, but someone who claimed to be my 'best' friend, turns out not to be. Hmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;not cool. but not my choice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So i just have to plan out my future a little different, that's all. move out of this hell hole by myself. i can do this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Time will tell what will happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6451593535805577162?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6451593535805577162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-8.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6451593535805577162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6451593535805577162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/06/chapter-8.html' title='Chapter 8'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-932137454511800900</id><published>2009-05-25T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T22:01:04.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So now the tables have turned, and i'm the one getting my heart broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;If i do say so myself, which i am, i hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I try not to break hearts or anything of the sort, when i date someone and it doesnt work out for the best. Honestly. I hate making someone else feel bad, sad, or anything negative.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I only want to bring happiness to people. But when things don't work out, well there's never an easy way to break up with someone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But today, my heart is down in the dumps. I try not to dwell on things, so the faster he moves away, the faster i'll be able to get over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I almost never want to talk to him again, but know that that's not the right thing to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My life is like a soap opera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And I hate it...not my life, but the soap opera part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But i'll live. And learn. And eventually move on. I keep telling myself everything happens for a reason, and if it's meant to be, then it will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;It's just not meant to be, right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Lesson learned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-932137454511800900?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/932137454511800900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-7.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/932137454511800900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/932137454511800900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-7.html' title='chapter 7'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-6513737609526796710</id><published>2009-05-20T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T00:19:30.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I've learned that you cannot help everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Some people do not want to change. They like being miserable, and no matter how hard you try to change them, and help them out...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;...they just don't want it. They like feeling like shit. Nothing you say or do will change this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I can't help you anymore. I've tried. You're just not having it. And me staying with you, would only bring me down. I don't like being depressed or sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I like sunshine and happy days. You don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You're surrounded with hate and animosity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sooooo not cool. Sooooo not for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, I'm over it. I'm sorry that you like feeling like shit, and love throwing little pity parties for yourself. I wish you the best of luck, and unfortunately I can't help you make yourself better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You have to want it yourself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And I hope you do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-6513737609526796710?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6513737609526796710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6513737609526796710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/6513737609526796710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-6.html' title='chapter 6'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1403634576013617489</id><published>2009-05-19T23:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T23:24:58.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Okay so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I break up with a boy to figure myself out and he blames his whatever-ness on me....seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;get over it. Im sorry that I wasn't the one you're supposed to marry. I'm not your 'one'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;BUT this gives you no right to be a jerk to me. None whatsoever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Idk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Anyway....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm so frustrated i cant even write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1403634576013617489?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1403634576013617489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-5.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1403634576013617489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1403634576013617489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-5.html' title='chapter 5'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-3207027500724620221</id><published>2009-05-18T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T01:02:57.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I like attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I realized this today. I mean not in a bad way. I just like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm sure that a lot of people like attention, and that's why they do the things that they do. It seems logical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I don't necessarily go out of my way to get it though. So i suppose im not too far gone, or horrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Just a random fact about me. =]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-3207027500724620221?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3207027500724620221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3207027500724620221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/3207027500724620221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-4.html' title='Chapter 4'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-1144852851331087309</id><published>2009-05-04T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:37:52.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter three</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I realize now that i will never ever understand the opposite sex. they will always being foreign to me. they will always make me feel like shit and rarely feel good. this is a sad truth that i've come to realize...i've also come to realize that there is nothing i can do about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;and maybe i dont want to do anything about it anyway. who came up with this idea that i need a boy in my life to be happy. honestly! who put this idea into my head? because it's driving me up a fucking wall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;i dont want to think about boys allll  the time. and i've come to realize that, well i guess i honestly haven't come to realize much of anything. i know friends are all that should really matter in life but...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;it's so hard when a guy is telling you how cool you are and how much he likes you one minute and then the next he really doesnt have any feelings for you at all. what the hell? did i miss something? you CANT just tell me how awesome i am and i'm the coolest chick you've ever met and then a day later have completely different feelings for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;that's what you get when you let your heart win. you get to be some stupid girl, who comes off as being desperate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;why should i be faced with such stupid things. i know it'll just make me stronger and whatnot. whatever. i'm strong enough. i want to be through with stupid crap. want to be done with it! i've built up so many walls around me, that i dont know when to put them down and when im supposed to keep them up. it just doesnt make sense to me....oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-1144852851331087309?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1144852851331087309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1144852851331087309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/1144852851331087309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-three.html' title='chapter three'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-121121411972291593</id><published>2009-05-02T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T16:25:25.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why do i feel so irritated with almost everything lately?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys.&lt;br /&gt;Girls.&lt;br /&gt;Works.&lt;br /&gt;life.&lt;br /&gt;Money.&lt;br /&gt;love.&lt;br /&gt;EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm normally a happy go lucky kind of chick, but.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. enough rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've come to learn...that you can't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;be friends with your exes&lt;br /&gt;keep feelings bottled up&lt;br /&gt;get everything you want&lt;br /&gt;do anything you want&lt;br /&gt;live life without being honest to yourself&lt;br /&gt;think guys 'get the hint'&lt;br /&gt;be shy&lt;br /&gt;be completely honest with everyone&lt;br /&gt;let the little things bother you&lt;br /&gt;be like everyone else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why does life have to be so complicated.&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/7152187397175748190-121121411972291593?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/121121411972291593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/121121411972291593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/121121411972291593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/05/chapter-two.html' title='chapter two'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152187397175748190.post-5578525248027074162</id><published>2009-04-28T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T23:14:46.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chapter one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And so here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me. Lacey. I appear to be nothing more than normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh how you're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to fit in most of my life. Blend in, go with the crowd. Up until i realized that it was a joke. and most things in life are a joke. we're taught to conform. taught not ask questions. try to be someone you're not, and forget your true self...no one will miss it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nah, that's not for me.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7152187397175748190-5578525248027074162?l=chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5578525248027074162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/04/chapter-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5578525248027074162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7152187397175748190/posts/default/5578525248027074162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chaptersoflacey.blogspot.com/2009/04/chapter-one.html' title='chapter one'/><author><name>Lacey Mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08504355226930951674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ZWCbJHpBJU/S8_-71oNd7I/AAAAAAAAAE0/HV77K-e1mdo/S220/P1010649.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
