<?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-8379484</id><updated>2011-09-01T09:13:30.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>|| Check It Out--Helpful and Silly ||</title><subtitle type='html'>Please Drive Thru</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-112069379024678440</id><published>2005-07-06T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T16:49:50.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say You, Say Me</title><content type='html'>Things are going well here on this end of the world, even though you rarely hear from me..I'm still alive and well. Still reading blogs on a regular daily basis from my cell phone, from which I can't leave comments from. But, I'm still reading!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend Josh and I both had friday off, so he picked me up from work thursday night and we took a drive up to Smith's Cove where we rented a cabin for the night.  We weren't sure at the time how far we were going to drive, so we decided to stay there for the night.  Friday we decided to drive to the Valley where we rented a cabin for two more nights.  Between driving to New Minas to see a movie, shopping, Zoo hopping and mini golf we certainly kept busy for two days and nights.  On our way home we stopped in at Upper Clements Park where we spent the majority of the day.  Turns out, we both got wicked sunburns that we're both still feeling today.  Can we say, "Ouch!" ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This coming friday our friends from Boston are arriving for their vacation.  They're staying for a month, as always.  This weekend's plans will be filled with visiting, plenty of food and late nights.  No camping this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-112069379024678440?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/112069379024678440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=112069379024678440' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/112069379024678440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/112069379024678440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2005/07/say-you-say-me.html' title='Say You, Say Me'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-111646133414415592</id><published>2005-05-18T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T17:08:54.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry May!</title><content type='html'>May has arrived in full rainy, weird, unpredictable weather.  I'm so glad that summer is at our fingertips!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been keeping up with the Joneses, as they say, and reading everyones weblogs as often as I can by my cellphone's capabilities. &lt;strong&gt;I'm so happy to hear that you bought your dress, Meags!&lt;/strong&gt; I read blog updates pretty much every new entry..so no, still no computer. I don't really even miss the thing, I'm actually going to get rid of it soon. If anyone wants a Pentium II, monitor, speakers, sub-woofer, mouse, keyboard..blah blah blah, insert whole shpeel here...contact me thru email. As long as it doesn't have "fw", "fwd" in the subject, I will receive it. I'm prepared to sell it for $100 as is. Tell your friends! Tell your friends' friends! It needs to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is the same, life is the same.. relationship is excellent! We get to see each other on the weekends, which is awesome. This weekend happens to be a long one, yay Victoria Day!! Hopefully we get to do something different this weekend, I'm hoping to get to Halifax for some shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this entry is all over the place, but with so little time to update, I can't remember everything I wanted to post! Eep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to hear from you all soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ : ) ~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-111646133414415592?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/111646133414415592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=111646133414415592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111646133414415592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111646133414415592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2005/05/merry-may.html' title='Merry May!'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-111430340111881173</id><published>2005-04-23T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T17:43:21.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here We Are</title><content type='html'>G'd evenin' all..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the season to be updating the ol' blog since I've got the op to do so.  Babysitting the kiddies for the evening, and thought I'd update this thing since it's been a month or so since I've done it last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I spent the last hour reading forwards and replying to online quizzes, which were all in the same context. It was still fun for us to do, but the questions were pretty mundane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still working, trying to save up for that new car I'm eyeing up.  Work in itself is going pretty well, it's money coming into the bank account so I'm thankful for that.  My job is to pack fish into bags and pack them for shipping to various places. I cut fish, weigh it, bag it, seal it, box it..etc. Some days are excruciatingly long when the other girls are quiet..which seems to be often these days. But in all, it's steady good work. Not office jobs, teaching or cubicle jobs like many people I know have.. nothing super interesting, but it's work and I'm grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I are planning on taking a trip down South next winter. We're talking about going to Mexico or possible to the Dominican. I'm really hoping that we will be able to take this trip, and I can imagine that it will be heavenly. As long as we dont end up on the resorts where people are being mugged by the cops. ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time again to leave... talk to you soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-111430340111881173?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/111430340111881173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=111430340111881173' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111430340111881173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111430340111881173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2005/04/here-we-are.html' title='Here We Are'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-111127710094700722</id><published>2005-03-19T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T16:05:00.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Livin'</title><content type='html'>Hello Everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been too long, but alas, here I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing major to report, except that I am no longer "working for the Canadian government" (EI), I am working as a fish packer.  I know, I know.. it's not the most glorious job, however, it's good money and 40 hours a week with no nights or weekends, and a paid two week vacay every year. This is good enough for the time being. I can say this, it will not be permanent for as long as I live.  But it's decent enough for now. It's your basic stuff, cutting dried fish, packing and weighing and shipping. I know that I can't go back to seasonal jobs, as much as I would like to work in the tourism industry, I know that this is just not possible in the area that I live in.  It's not your typical booming urban metropolis.  It's not even urban, and it's doing very little "booming". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the relationship updates, Josh and I are still together and going strong.  We're on the brink of house hunting, which is a huge and very exciting step for the both of us.  We are just about ready, but these things take time.. neither of us wants to hop into this unprepared. We've been keeping our eyes peeled for possibilities, but right now our first step is saving.  This has been going very well for him, but since my job is still new, it's taking me a little longer. But it's happening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no functioning computer or internet at the homestead, but this is also in the works of change.  Until then, you'll all just have to put up with updates and msn few and far between. I've actually been missing the computer, so it wont be too long now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-111127710094700722?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/111127710094700722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=111127710094700722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111127710094700722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/111127710094700722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-still-livin.html' title='I&apos;m Still Livin&apos;'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110510542131235075</id><published>2005-01-07T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T05:43:41.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been awhile. Things have been going well on my end.  The holidays were lovely and we rang in the new year with a quiet evening at home, which is in my opinion the best way to ring in the new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas eve was spent at Josh's, as planned, and Christmas night was spent at my house.  Both celebrations were lovely, and I'm very glad I went through with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This damned terrible weather has brought upon me (once again) a nasty cold. One day it's warm enough for me to wear a thin sweater and leather jacket, the next day a sweater and my poncho and then next thing you know it it's freezing cold and I'm stuck without my winter coat.  Damned weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick and tired of people sending emails to their exes and also forwarding them to me.  I wish this would STOP. You know you who are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I was trying to move stuff around in my bedroom, which is a tad difficult since my room is the size of a sardine can.  I finally moved stuff around enough, but it's hard to say if it will be enough to make a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm sick and cranky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110510542131235075?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110510542131235075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110510542131235075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110510542131235075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110510542131235075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2005/01/its-been-awhile.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110330471935945103</id><published>2004-12-17T13:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-17T09:31:59.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Authoritarian Me</title><content type='html'>Yes, yes.. I am still babysitting.  What turned out to be two nights turned into being four, due to complications.  But I'm happy to be able to help however I can, and I love these two kiddies to pieces so I'm more than glad to be helping out this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is coming sooner and sooner, and soon enough, it'll be here and gone. Odd, but true. I'm not in the highest of Christmas spirits yet at all, and I can't seem to get into it. Maybe it's because of the weather we've been having, that could definetly be a factor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we're chaperoning a dance, I'm half tempted to bail on it for some reason. I want to go shopping instead. But, we already said we would do it so I suppose it's only fair to go through with it. My ordinary days of bailing on things pretty much went out the window quite some time ago, so there really is no point of doing that now. But, you know you're old when you're being asked to chaperone a dance rather than just go to one. I remember being those ages (13 ish) and asking people to come chaperone our dances, watching the familiar faces walk around the gym as we danced or had our wallflower moments. We always behaved when the chaperones walked by, and not so after they'd gone. I wonder if they're putting me on duty of guarding the bathrooms, and whether or not I'll have to use the practiced "Hey! No drinking!" tone. Who knows. But I will say this, underaged drinking holds no force on me. I have no tolerence for it, and from what I'm told, I should expect certain people to try pulling it off tonight. Ha! Authoritarian Lynn, that's me! *cracks whip*. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zero. Tolerence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm tired. I could still sleep, but we all know it's not the time for that. But I may need my rest for this raging teen dance tonight. &lt;em&gt;Note the sarcasm, people. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows when the next time I'll be able to get on here and update, I certainly have no idea. But, 'til then.. everyone have a Merry Christmas &amp; Happy New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110330471935945103?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110330471935945103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110330471935945103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/authoritarian-me.html' title='Authoritarian Me'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110317298031110328</id><published>2004-12-15T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T20:56:20.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Days</title><content type='html'>Yep, I'm still at my sister's house babysitting. It looks like I will be for another night since my brother in law's father had a heart attack tonight.  Things are certainly not looking the greatest on that end, and I really hope things do start looking up for him. So anyway, I'm here overnight tonight and there's a possibility of being here tomorow night too. I don't really mind, just that I can't sleep here for some reason. Too paranoid or something. I'd rather sleep in my own bed at home where it's much warmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This friday Josh and I are going to be chaperoning at a local french school dance.  I wonder how that's going to go. School dances are not the least bit entertaining, except if there's a "lover's quarrel" going on and that's highly likely since it's junior/high school.  So anyway, that should be different. We had nothing else planned, so when Josh's cousin asked him if we would do it we agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Christmas in ten days. Honestly though, where does the time GO? I have no idea. It just goes, and goes, and goes.  I've decided on buying a few last minute items for Josh and I still need to buy for my dad and my grandparents. Apart from that, I think I'm finished. They aren't difficult to buy for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procrastinating.. I really don't want to go to bed. I'd rather stay up and play Super Mario Bros 3 on the NES emulator but I know that in a few short hours the kids will be getting up for school. It really wont be so bad, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll go and try to get to sleep. Here's to trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110317298031110328?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110317298031110328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110317298031110328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/ten-days.html' title='Ten Days'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110296154679541105</id><published>2004-12-13T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T10:12:26.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Days Of Christmas</title><content type='html'>Here's a Christmas list, for all those interested and those curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Age: 22&lt;br /&gt;Height: 5'4"&lt;br /&gt;Shirt Size: M to L&lt;br /&gt;Likes: music, movies, magazines, card making, any and all notebook and writing paraphernalia, cats, chinese food and chopsticks.&lt;br /&gt;Dislikes: science fiction, gore, pointless humor, neon green, spiders or any and all insects.&lt;br /&gt;Needs: jeans &amp; black dress pants.&lt;br /&gt;Wants: writing paraphernalia, mp3 player, dvd's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110296154679541105?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110296154679541105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110296154679541105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110296154679541105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110296154679541105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/12-days-of-christmas.html' title='12 Days Of Christmas'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110245981190689365</id><published>2004-12-07T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T14:50:11.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't turned on my home computer since last friday, so truthfully, I am not sure whether or not I have the internet at home.  I usually tend not to bother with my home pc unless I need to do something online, so my guess is, it wont be used for a long time unless Josh uses it for something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since not using the internet or computer, I have been busying myself with a number of things. Particularly my birthday, which was this past Sunday.  The weekend was full of greatness beginning Friday night, where Josh and I went Christmas shopping then came home and fell asleep almost instantly once hitting the bed. We were exhausted. I spent the day shopping with my mother the next day, which was lots of fun in itself.  That night Josh and I tried going out for supper and then to do his Christmas shopping, but the weather was ultimately shitty so we got take out and a movie.  Later that night, Josh surprises me with a candlelit dinner and strawberry wine. It was so beautiful! The remainder of the weekend was my birthday, and I spent it with the entire family at home. All last week and so far this week I've gotten 2 or 3 cards in the mail per day--I love mail!! *hint hint to all of you!* :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today I put together our newly bought artificial Christmas tree. It's so cute! I want to buy a pine scent ball to scent up the tree.  Tomorow my sister and I will be decorating the tree and the house, so that should be lots of occupying fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm babysitting right now, and will be again this coming saturday night and the following monday thru wednesday. So if yall see me online, drop me a line!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110245981190689365?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110245981190689365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110245981190689365' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110245981190689365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110245981190689365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-havent-turned-on-my-home-computer.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110202728515426606</id><published>2004-12-02T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T14:41:25.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving Back</title><content type='html'>I watched a horrific episode of Oprah today, which left me feeling uneasy and sad.  It was about the over-population in China, and the still exisiting 'One child per family" regulation.  The preference of the sex is male, and often female babies are placed in boxes and left at the supermarket or on the street and sometimes abandonned at shelters.  One particular story that left me feeling the most uneasy was that of "Dying rooms" , where a child is left there for no other reason than dying.  A 3 year old girl was abandonned by her parents at this shelter in China, where the operators of the shelter left her in the dying room for ten days without food, water or any physical contact or stimulation.  The staff never checked on her, but would send one person in occasionally to see if she was dead.  The girl was so unbelievably skinny, her eyes were nearly closed due to puss and the nearing of death and she was trying to cry, but there simply were no tears and such sad moaning escaped her mouth.  I felt so uncomfortable looking at this image, and felt sick just thinking that this was happening when it could be avoided.  Her parents were not of poor descent, they had just had a son and decided they no longer wanted their little girl.  They had not even named her, and denied ever having another child after their son was born.   How cruel can people be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking alot lately about the more unfortunate people in the world, and how when Christmas nears they will not have anything to call their own.  Many people will not have food or even a roof over their head, children will cry and parents will feel broken inside because they cannot afford to feed them or give them a gift at Christmas.  I know of a few organizations in my town that are asking for donations to help local poor families, and I know a lot of people who are in need during this upcoming holiday.  I know I've been a bitch to a lot of people in the past, and I've hurt a lot of feelings, and even though most people have forgiven me I want to go further and do something to help out those that need it.  I want to do it for them, so that they can all have a good Christmas.  So, I'm gathering clothes, food and stuffed animals and I'm going to donate, donate, donate!! Maybe I'll even contact my Priest and ask him if I can help Adopt a Family this Christmas and help them out personally---people deserve to be happy, and I want to help them attain that happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110202728515426606?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110202728515426606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110202728515426606' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110202728515426606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110202728515426606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/giving-back.html' title='Giving Back'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110195166776422868</id><published>2004-12-01T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T12:03:45.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And it's over. </title><content type='html'>Here I am, babysitting.  Thus explains the reasoning behind my being online yet again.   So I'm going to throw in an entry since I have time to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor's appointment went by quickly and with minimal pain.  I will only get the results in about two weeks or so, and he's also sending me on blood tests. Which is no surprise, it's like a guideline for him: check out the patient and send them on blood tests.  No biggie. It's so funny that I hadn't been to see him in two or three years, and since this past June I've been to see him four times, two sets of bloodwork and one flu shot.  Fun times, I tell ya. The fast times at the doc's office.  Somehow, since I was such a bag of nerves, even his sign "Country Doctor on Duty: maternity, guardianship, understanding.." didnt do the trick to calm me. I actually almost got up and walked out of the office.  But, I went through with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110195166776422868?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110195166776422868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110195166776422868' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110195166776422868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110195166776422868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/and-its-over.html' title='And it&apos;s over. '/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110191566492762433</id><published>2004-12-01T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T07:41:04.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vat iss Dis?</title><content type='html'>I told you all that you would probably get another entry out of me, but I didn't think that it would be on the day I was supposed to get disconnected from the net.  I don't know why I still have it, because they said that the account would be disconnected by December 1st, and here we are.  Wow, already December. This is a great sign for so many people and for so many reasons.  Some of my friends are going to be on christmas break in not very long and let me tell you, these people need a break. Right, guys?  Everyone seems to be very stressed out, and this upcoming break will be needed for them.  Even though I wont be able to bask in the glory of Christmas break with you all, I'll be thinking of you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my sister &amp; brother-in-law's wedding anniversary! Yay! Happy....9th? I think it's 9th. And in four more days I'll be turning old. That's right, the golden age of twenty-two.  I don't have any thoughts on this as of yet, but I will be turning in my reflections on being twenty-one.  I just don't know when yet, being the beautifully skilled procrastinator that I am.  I still owe someone from high school an eight page letter double sided..and have I written and sent that yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went Christmas shopping again last night, and overall yesterday I spent nearly 130$..I'm semi cringing, though I'm trying not too. I don't even know how I spent 50$ yesterday, all I bought were dinky little things for a stocking I'm making for Josh.  We bought these HUGE stockings that we are going to fill for each other, and, I don't know how possible that's going to be without spending buckets of money.  I could put a couple of his main gifts in it, but, I don't know about that yet.  Maybe we'll just get normal sized Christmas stockings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a doctor's appointment today at 2:15 and I don't know if I should keep the appointment or not.  I've never been on one of these tests, so I'm scared silly about it. But also, I don't want to go alone. I know, I know..big baby, you can say it.  So I might reschedule it for next wednesday morning, so that I can get my sister to come with me. That's what I might do. But on the otherhand, might as well get it over with now, right? I don't know. I just dunno!!! Arg! Hello Doctor, get it over with *sprawls out*.  That'll get his ol' ticker going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, for those of you who weren't expecting an entry today and happened to stumble upon this..hope it was informative or at least entertaining for two minutes.  Time to go make me some lunch, I'm thinking kraft dinner sounds good. But I don't think I should crank up the furnace and cook it on the heating vents.. not while I have access to a stove, at least.  As cold as I am, I could turn on the furnace that high though. Eh, might as well cook the KD while I'm at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110191566492762433?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110191566492762433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110191566492762433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/12/vat-iss-dis.html' title='Vat iss Dis?'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110183034479038038</id><published>2004-11-30T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T08:31:08.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies and Goodbyes</title><content type='html'>I did a heaping load of Christmas shopping this morning, all for my hunny. I got up uber early to get in to buy a special something of the limited edition kind (ahem) and was successful at making the purchase ;) But I bought so much other stuff today, and now I have to wrap up these gifts or else people will know what they're getting for Christmas-and that would NOT be good for me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;last &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;day online at my home, so because of this I wont be posting any entries or reading any blogs for quite a while. I'll still be able to use my MSN when I babysit at my sister's off and on but chances are it wont be too often. I know I've said it before 'today's my last day online' but this time I have no choice, and I'm so glad I don't.  I'm getting it &lt;em&gt;disconnected&lt;/em&gt; until I feel like getting it back again, and when I do, it will most likely be &lt;em&gt;highspeed&lt;/em&gt; internet. The basis on such a decision is mostly because I'm &lt;em&gt;sick&lt;/em&gt; of the internet, because I only use it for chatting, blogging and reading other blogs. But when it gets to the point where no one updates their blogs and one one person replies to  your messages on msn, there really is no point to having the internet.  So, until I feel that there is a good enough reason to spend 40 something dollars with a bundle pack just so that I can chat, blog and surf I wont be.  But, I will occasionally be on msn but that may only be once a week if at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that I got that out in the open, that's all I have to say at this point. You might get another entry out of me by the end of the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&gt; Tah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110183034479038038?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110183034479038038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110183034479038038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/time-flies-and-goodbyes.html' title='Time Flies and Goodbyes'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110176751657068337</id><published>2004-11-29T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T14:31:56.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Alive! Hurrah!</title><content type='html'>I just got a Christmas/Birthday card from my old roomie from when I was living in Portland! This totally made my day, I only hear from her every once in a blue moon so this was totally unexpected. She enclosed some pictures of where she is living and working. She's a Cape Bretoner who now lives in Alberta, and she's such a cool gal! I always love hearing from her, and even though it's hard to get a hold of her sometimes whenever she sends me something it's totally unexpected and bright! It's so odd too because I was just thinking of mailing her a card for her birthday, which is only 4 days after mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super psyched am I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110176751657068337?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110176751657068337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110176751657068337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/shes-alive-hurrah.html' title='She&apos;s Alive! Hurrah!'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110174511231941023</id><published>2004-11-29T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:18:32.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never know how to start an entry, especially when I don't know what I'm going to talk about.  I've been gone all weekend over to my boyfriend's house, where we cleaned, primed, painted and move all of his stuff in his new room upstairs.  Saturday night we went to the Christmas Parade and then we went to see the Spongebob Squarepants Movie, which was pretty funny. I was surprised to see that there was noone in the theatre save a couple of us. Maybe a handful of people in the big theatre in all.  I suppose kids were pooped after the parade, which was also quite nice too. It was the first  one that my hunny and I had gone to, and the first one that I'd been to in about 9 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday is coming up, next sunday. I'll be twenty-two years young, and I have no idea what I want for my birthday other than clothes. And it's not so much wanting as it is needing.  I wore my black pants to paint over the weekend, and now, no black pants for me to wear!! But I just don't  have any good clothes to wear these days. And I'd like to get gussied up for the Christmas party on the 18th, and something nice on New Year's Eve too.  So, gift certificates appreciated!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started an advice &lt;a href="http://www.advicenators.com/column.php?u=cuddlynn"&gt;column&lt;/a&gt; that you can check out anytime and ask me some of your deepest and darkest questions, or even your simplest of questions and I'll post the answers on my column! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110174511231941023?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110174511231941023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110174511231941023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-never-know-how-to-start-entry_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110174492949842146</id><published>2004-11-29T07:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:15:29.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never know how to start an entry, especially when I don't know what I'm going to talk about.  I've been gone all weekend over to my boyfriend's house, where we cleaned, primed, painted and move all of his stuff in his new room upstairs.  Saturday night we went to the Christmas Parade and then we went to see the Spongebob Squarepants Movie, which was pretty funny. I was surprised to see that there was noone in the theatre save a couple of us. Maybe a handful of people in the big theatre in all.  I suppose kids were pooped after the parade, which was also quite nice too. It was the first  one that my hunny and I had gone to, and the first one that I'd been to in about 9 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday is coming up, next sunday. I'll be twenty-two years young, and I have no idea what I want for my birthday other than clothes. And it's not so much wanting as it is needing.  I wore my black pants to paint over the weekend, and now, no black pants for me to wear!! But I just don't  have any good clothes to wear these days. And I'd like to get gussied up for the Christmas party on the 18th, and something nice on New Year's Eve too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110174492949842146?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110174492949842146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110174492949842146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110174492949842146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110174492949842146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-never-know-how-to-start-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110141127157273436</id><published>2004-11-25T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-25T11:34:31.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One month til Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're still planning on spending Christmas at his house with his family, though I'd rather have us stay with mine. But, that was "the agreement" last year.  It's not that I don't want to be at his house, because I do it's just that it will be my first christmas that I wont be at home with my family. I always thought that the first christmas that I would spend away from my family would be when he and I lived together in our own place. But, last year we decided to spend the eve and christmas day at my house and the evening of christmas and boxing day at his. The agreement was we would do it that way last year if we'd do the opposite this year. So that's what we're doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110141127157273436?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110141127157273436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110141127157273436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/one-month-til-christmas-were-still.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110123967702900562</id><published>2004-11-23T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T11:54:37.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thrift Hunting &amp; Coffee</title><content type='html'>I've been up for hours, since seven o'clock this morning to be exact. And, I've been on the go all day long, which makes me feel accomplished and busy, which I love feeling both. So far today I've been to the hospital, out for tea, shopping, errand running and thrift hunting, and I've done alot of chores around the house so far and it's only 3 in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thrift hunting.&lt;/strong&gt; Otherwise known as Frenchy Shopping, and for those of you unfamiliar with Frenchy Shopping, this is a phenomenon of bargain hunting at used clothing shops, where you used to be able to buy a killer GAP or Old Navy sweater for only $1.25. Granted, not all the clothes are brands and certainly not all of them are in tip top shape. But, the days of paying less than a buck-fifty for a good looking and comfortable used sweater seems to be over, dead and buried. I bought three sweaters two Old Navy's and one LL Bean, oh and a mega size JC Penney plum colored pillow sham. In total, normally this would have cost me roughly $199.98 if I had gone to the department stores, in old thrift hunting days it would have worked out to be $4.25. Instead, today it cost me $10.70. I was appalled!! Sure, $10.70 is great compared to paying nearly two-hundred bucks, but, still it was surprising when the owner gave me that total. Soon enough, you wont be able to call it thrift shopping. It's still a bargain, but almost not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coffee:&lt;/strong&gt; a beverage consisting of an infusion of ground coffee beans. Some would call this beverage a 'drug of choice', because it is highly addictive. Caffeine always is, trust me, I know this (*cough*pepsi nut*cough*). I don't, however, understand why people become mad and obsessed with it and will stand in 20 minute lineups for a hot mug of java or the paper cup to go. People wont leave early from home if the weather is bad, to get to work, but they will leave early to get to their favorite coffee spot. Drive thru's, these are bad! Bad, I say! In the morning, lets say, before nine o'clock, people get so vile. Honking and rude gestures, all for a cup of coffee. You know, manufacturers make and sell coffee makers for a reason much the same as your local favorite coffee shop sells packets and containers of coffee for you to brew at home. Why are people ready to throw away courtesy and politeness out the window for this beverage? Coffee should be sipped with a friend on a cold evening, it should be an element of making friends not something you're miserable and cranky about until you have some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just had to get that off my chest. I'm feeling much better :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110123967702900562?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110123967702900562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110123967702900562' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110123967702900562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110123967702900562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/thrift-hunting-coffee.html' title='Thrift Hunting &amp; Coffee'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110072319846072547</id><published>2004-11-17T16:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T12:26:38.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, remembering the 'times'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all do that sometimes, but, the ones that I'm remembering were the ones where about 8 or 10 of us would meet and go down to Tim Horton's and order junk food and just talk and act foolish. All of our distinguishing and sometimes conflicting personalities mixing up in an environment that was pretty neutral for us all. Since we were mostly all underaged, with the exception of myself and my best friend, we met up where everyone could join. This is what our group at the time looked like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me--&gt; the coming out of shyness soon to enter her twenties, yearning for acceptance within her peer group, confused about new friendships, bitter about old ones and very outspoken when it came to certain people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh--&gt; soon to enter the grand legal age of nineteen, the one in the group who made everyone laugh and who didn't care about any of the personal conflicts anyone was having with each other. The one who was easy going, friendly and always optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Best Friend--&gt; gay and just accepting it, trying to get others to accept him. Finding his feminine, always trying to change his personality to match the person he was currently into. The one who often got picked on in the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"S"--&gt; the imposing member of the group who made you feel tiny, who often glared at you so hard you couldn't look him in the eyes. The pessimist of the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"G"--&gt; the American, the one who was believed to have been at one time trying to steal my boyfriend. Ah, the early days of my friendship with her. All my friends believed she wanted Josh, it wasn't just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"H"--&gt; the eccentric, loud one. Though very friendly, I liked her alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"J"--&gt; the Bitch of the group. Never smiling, always pessimistic and dark. She kinda made you want to end the evening early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"K"--&gt; the giggly, joyous one who was shy and only stuck with a few members of the clan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"C"--&gt; the thinker, the smart one. The one who teased my friend for being gay, who had much in common with everyone in the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would all meet, eat, hang out and then decide what to do. Most of the time we never did anything but hang out and chat, a few of us did our own thing seperately. We often went to the movies and mocked the show, whatever was playing. We were an interesting bunch, and to look at us, you wouldn't think any of us have anything in common.  We've all drifted now, though. My best friend is no longer that title, and is no longer even a friend. He lives in Halifax, and keeps no ties with the old group. I'm still with josh, duhhh. And the only ones from the group I keep in touch with are G and S. I don't think it would be worldly possible to get everyone in the same room now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a part of different groups throughout high school, it's so interesting. There was the morning crew in the cafeteria, we'd buy Audrey's muffins and sit and chat til the first bell for homeroom. Sometimes we'd study, other times we would just talk and be foolish. There was the hangout in Claudette's classroom, where I ended up meeting a boyfriend I'd be with for 11 months.  There was the Tech Hallway, where we'd hang out and listen to music, talk, just hide and waste time at breaks. There was the Boggle corner upstairs. There was the hangout behind the school at the dugouts.. so many more. And they seem like an eternity away too. It makes me feel old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I would never want to forget these different people. That might be why I think of them from time to time now, I really enjoyed their friendship and companionship throughout those tough years of high school, and probably would not be the person I am today without all the different experiences I've had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110072319846072547?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110072319846072547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110072319846072547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110072319846072547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110072319846072547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/ah-remembering-times.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110056561610255673</id><published>2004-11-15T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T16:40:16.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowbound for the Weekend</title><content type='html'>I'm back. Was at my boyfriend's house since Friday night, and couldn't come home until tonight. The snow was so bad home that we didn't dare leave. On the other hand it wasn't bad at Josh's, it barely snowed, thankfully. But when I got home, it was another story. Snow..snow.. snow! About 2 feet of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We watched a lot of movies and sitcoms this weekend, ate junk food, stayed up late and got up late. It was the ultimate lazy weekend, and it was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110056561610255673?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110056561610255673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110056561610255673' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110056561610255673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110056561610255673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/snowbound-for-weekend.html' title='Snowbound for the Weekend'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-110014917865969703</id><published>2004-11-11T01:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-10T20:59:38.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>Is it wrong to want something that you can't have for at least another two years? Is it wrong to want it so bad you cry? Is it wrong to argue about it? Is it wrong that you feel like everyone else is getting married, engaged or shacked up except for you? Is it so wrong that you have absolutely NO idea what you want to do with your life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody has to start listening to me. Because I don't know what will become of me if you don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-110014917865969703?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/110014917865969703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=110014917865969703' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110014917865969703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/110014917865969703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109993916685020741</id><published>2004-11-08T22:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T10:39:26.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You</title><content type='html'>I just had &lt;em&gt;*the*&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;best &lt;/strong&gt;weekend of my life! I still can't believe everything that happened....it'll take a long time to come down from this cloud!! I love you so much, Josh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109993916685020741?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109993916685020741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109993916685020741' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109993916685020741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109993916685020741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-love-you.html' title='I Love You'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109967835658096841</id><published>2004-11-05T14:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T10:12:36.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorow is It</title><content type='html'>Well the weekend is finally here! I am so excited for what 'surprises' shall be revealed tomorow night. I am absolutely amazed that Josh hasn't leaked out any details whatsoever, I'm usually so skilled at weaseling answers outta him when he's trying to hide a surprise, but this time he didn't even appear to crack at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorow we are celebrating our 4 Year Anniversary, which was actually last Monday. But since he works on the Islands, we weren't able to see each other this week. He's only told me to wear nice clothes and pack an overnight bag because we have a big night ahead of us. I'm so excited!  He's kept me in suspense for so long now, I'm so glad that the surprise is almost here!! He should be here any minute now, and I'm not showered or have anything packed. We're spending the night tonight at his place, and tomorow we'll be back here for a while so that Josh can help my father redo our bathroom. Then, it's off at 5 to wherever Josh is taking us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as always, you most likely wont hear a peep from me until the weekend is over. And what a fabulous weekend that it will be!!Be good, kids.. and send me lotsa emails &amp; leave me comments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much luvs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109967835658096841?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109967835658096841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109967835658096841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109967835658096841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109967835658096841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/tomorow-is-it.html' title='Tomorow is It'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109953319147681438</id><published>2004-11-03T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T17:53:11.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Presidential Elections: A Real Opinion</title><content type='html'>All throughout the world tonight, citizens worry what the next four years shall bestow upon them. It is rather simple to dictate their future to them: 'The future will be dim and dismal, filled with hidden agendas and war..'. Yes, as we all know, President George W. Bush remains a puppet in office, running a country the way his father believed it should have been ran. The cliché 'like father, like son' rings true and has been proven many times during the last four years. However, Bush Jr. is intending on finishing what Daddy began, and now has another four years to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iraqi citizens did not give the election much notice, according to CNN news reports. This is because they like continuity, but do not believe that a new face would bring change to their present day horrors or eleviate the terror for their fate in the future. To them, a new face represents just that, a face. What they are facing now, and what they have been facing, will never be forgotten. Innocent lives have been taken, on both sides, lives have been torn apart and families the same. It will never be the same, no matter who is running the big House. People in the east also commented on the horrendous mistake US Citizens made by keeping Bush in office, one girl about my age said, "We do not like Mr. Bush, we fear him and his regime."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a terrible shame that a world vote could not have been taken, Kerry would be the man taking over the White House in January of 2005. But, the voters have cast their opinions, and this outcome should be the legally right one--though I highly doubt full legalities have been carried through during this election. Michael Moore, film-maker and director for the 'Bowling for Columbine' and 'Fahrenheit 9/11' documentaries set up 1200 cameras in Florida and Ohio to help avoid election fraud. He spoke rather viciously against the Bush administration, advocating for the Democratics, and it's far too bad that his work did not reach more undecided voters. 'It's too bad' is a very large understatement when referring to the 2004 Presidential Elections. Hopefully it wont take another war, hidden agenda or terrorist attack to awaken the Republican voters to the 'real world'. Their government needs a change, perhaps now more than ever before. Kerry, the hometown New-Englander, would have made a refreshing change indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have gotten much of this off of my chest, I would like to digress to an old mention from a previous entry of mine. Those who voted Republican will undoubtedly be the very first to complain when Bush pulls one of his 'unexpected blind judgement calls'. To say that non-voters have no right to voice complaints is absurdity at it's best. Most non-voters keep their balloted opinions unmarked because of several reasons. Some of whice are being that they do not feel their opinion will be represented to its best possibilities, or that they simply have no opinion. This does not mean that voters have the right to silence the non-voters. They do have their own thoughts--Politicians may be wise to listen to them. The better political decisions would prevail in those cases, I bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I a voter? Yes. Do I care about Canadian Politics? Absolutely not. The future of my country does not rest on my shoulders. It is the local politics that peak my interest most of all, and my desire to vote. I do not follow politics, I do not entertain the thought of becoming involved more than I am now. However, I do understand the importance of voting. I do recognize that I, as a woman, would not have this right today without someone years before me having put up a good fight for women's voting rights. It is available to women, it is there to try and level our worth in comparison to men, however just because it is available to us does not mean that we all will excercise this right. Our Country will not suffer from a few good women not voting. It didn't suffer before, so why would it now? Our right to vote will not be taken away because there are far more women who do participate than those who don't. It is the very same as gay-marriage on some level--not all homosexuals will excercise the right to marry just because it is available, though I can say that they would appreciate having the option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To conclude this opinion of mine on politics, I do believe that the future of the US of A lies in it's President's hands, the same as any other country. Although I wish that the Democrats would have prevailed, this will not be the last election. There will be more, and it takes a mistake in order to make a correction and if the mistake is made more than once, twice or a million times, eventually someone will see it and it will be corrected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109953319147681438?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109953319147681438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109953319147681438' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109953319147681438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109953319147681438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/presidential-elections-real-opinion_03.html' title='Presidential Elections: A Real Opinion'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109951665153565956</id><published>2004-11-03T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T17:56:34.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Woo, US Puppet Remains.</title><content type='html'>Bush Won! The &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sonofabitzitch&lt;/span&gt; won! I am completely outraged!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Well, I'm not &lt;strong&gt;pissed&lt;/strong&gt;. But, I am terribly disappointed. I can't understand how this actually went through. &lt;em&gt;CNN is completely Republican&lt;/em&gt;, their entire coverage was "Bush this" and "Bush that" with their high pitiful hopes of him winning. They kept on saying they could not "make the winner's call" until all the votes from Ohio were in, but they sure did a poor job of not calling it. They made comments about Kerry losing, his hopes so low, his family must be disgraced..ugh. What I don't understand is, how can US Citizens continue to complain about their President, yet, he is re-elected once again? I am sure that something was rigged. It had to have been. He won by a mere..what was it, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;3%&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!! A friend of mine commented on my irritability on the US Prez, and replied with "Oh well, at least we have Prime Minister Paul Martin.."...wooo, there's another topic in itself. Paul Martin. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109951665153565956?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109951665153565956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109951665153565956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109951665153565956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109951665153565956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/woo-us-puppet-remains.html' title='Woo, US Puppet Remains.'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109932855659165554</id><published>2004-11-01T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T09:02:36.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fortress of Blogitude</title><content type='html'>I just visited a blog that I thought was pretty keen. The person who posts is someone I know only through a once mutual friend, nonetheless, I've kept up with his blog since the &lt;a href="http://www.diaryland.com"&gt;Diaryland Days&lt;/a&gt; and thought it was nifty that he posted Halloween Pics from their halloween party this year. I'm favoring the Handicap Space, Sunny Daze and Wolverine the most. There is a comment box you can vote for your favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fortressofblogitude.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Fortress of Blogitude&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109932855659165554?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109932855659165554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109932855659165554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109932855659165554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109932855659165554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/fortress-of-blogitude.html' title='The Fortress of Blogitude'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109932547501636000</id><published>2004-11-01T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T08:11:15.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy November!</title><content type='html'>I'm finally getting some ideas for Christmas gifts/birthday gifts for Josh! Hurray!! Most of my friends have already been plagued by me for ideas, but none of them really knew what to suggest. So, I dug deep (really deep) and came up with all these great ideas, some of which I'll definetly get. Sorry, can't reveal what those things are since Josh does read this from time to time, and I never know when he has &lt;strong&gt;since he doesn't comment :-)&lt;/strong&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is our &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;4 Year Anniversary&lt;/span&gt; today! Even though we are apart this week, we will celebrate next weekend. All I know is what Josh told me: &lt;em&gt;'When I pick you up, wear some of your really nice clothes and bring an overnight bag..I've got a surprise for you.' &lt;/em&gt;So, who knows. I know we are obviously staying somewhere, but I don't know where. I'm not even certain to be seeing him on friday night, because he said he still had surprises to get in order for the weekend. That boy, I tell ya! I don't have anything for his birthday or our anniversary yet, but I will take care of that this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that one of my cats got beaten up really bad last night by this ubermean grey stray cat. When I went to let Bear in, I saw there was a lot of &lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;yellow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; cat hair everywhere on the front lawn, all in clumps. It's really quite disgusting and scary to see. I don't know if I should tell Mom when I call her at noon or if I should clean it up and just tell her after she gets home, since it's her cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109932547501636000?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109932547501636000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109932547501636000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109932547501636000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109932547501636000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/11/happy-november.html' title='Happy November!'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109908091395575791</id><published>2004-10-29T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T13:15:13.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Screwed Things Up.</title><content type='html'>I just had a talk with Josh on the phone. And I'm sad. I grumbled at him about a couple of things, and now I feel bad. I shouldnt have grumbled about one thing in particular, but I did anyway. We're ok, but I still feel bad for having said something. When I get home from the babyshower tonight I'll be so happy to see him..I've missed him so much this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost don't even feel like going to that babyshower tonight. But she's my friend and I should be there. At the same time, I'm just feeling blah and would rather veg at home in frumpy clothes rather than put some good clothes and be stared at by women I barely know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to watch the kids today. She didnt get home in time to catch them when they got off the bus, so I was over there to get them. The two girls were bickering each other blind, the two boys went into their "clubhouse" in the woods. It was rather painless, but still, I don't want her to make a habit of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, time to go check on supper and get things ready for tonight.  Likely, you wont see me online for a few days...the usual weekend stuff. You'll learn about it as always on Sunday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109908091395575791?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109908091395575791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109908091395575791' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109908091395575791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109908091395575791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-screwed-things-up.html' title='I Screwed Things Up.'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109899750335530160</id><published>2004-10-28T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T14:05:03.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Venting Stuff</title><content type='html'>Why is it that I always get suckered? &lt;em&gt;Really&lt;/em&gt; though. This isn't the first time I get asked to babysit the crew that my sister is supposed to be babysitting. Babysitting her two munchkins are never a problem, and in fact I enjoy it. BUT ok, babysitting the additional three hellions that belong to someone else + her two kids is far more than what I would rather. The three kids are BAD..seriously, they are devils. Old enough to know right from wrong, yet they commit themselves to wrong doing.  So. She has an appointment that she absolutely cannot miss, so she asked me to watch the youngest one until the other 4 get home from school. Now, she SHOULD be home by the time the kids get off the bus but just for spite she will only pull into the driveway about an hour or so later. That's my prediction. Can you tell that I'm really, really not happy about this? Well, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Josh. I haven't been able to talk to him all that much this week and I miss him. I know that he's at work, living there during the week and by the time they call it quits for the day it's late by the time they cook supper, eat, clean up and then take their showers and rest before he can call me. But,.. I just wish I could talk to him longer. These past few nights haven't been the happiest for me, I'm gloomy and sad..and have no one to talk to. Everyone's pretty much busy with their own things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorow night is my friend's baby shower. Last time I spoke to her I was a few days ago, and she was nervous about it. Now I'm getting nervous about it for her because I know of a few people who wont be able to make it there. She's scared no one will show up, so I don't dare tell her that a few people wont be able to make it. She'll flip out! I know a lot of people will still go, it's just an awkward night to have a baby shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109899750335530160?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109899750335530160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109899750335530160' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109899750335530160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109899750335530160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/venting-stuff.html' title='Venting Stuff'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109893343488072015</id><published>2004-10-28T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-27T20:17:14.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Prince &amp; Me</title><content type='html'>Judging from the title of my entry, I bet you know exactly which movie I &lt;em&gt;shouldn't&lt;/em&gt; have rented. That's right--I should not have rented this movie, because it was pretty bland and unimaginative. I love Julia Stiles, she's the best thing since &lt;em&gt;'10 Things I Hate About You' &lt;/em&gt;but this movie was possibly her biggest let-down in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie rental clerk was pretty nice. Every time that I go in there he always has a "recommendation" for me, and I never pick the one he recommends. Tonight, he recommended that if I were to rent &lt;em&gt;'The Prince &amp; Me'&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;'Jersey Girl'&lt;/em&gt; that I should go for &lt;em&gt;'Jersey Girl'&lt;/em&gt;, but I went against that. It's been my experience that the movies other people love, I usually don't like and vice versa. Tomorow when I bring it back, I'm going to tell him that he was totally right. I'd rent Jersey Girl if I had money, but I don't. I do, but not cash. And I'm not about to get $20 from the ATM just to spend less than five of it on a movie, and end up wasting the rest of it on junk I don't need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109893343488072015?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109893343488072015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109893343488072015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109893343488072015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109893343488072015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/prince-me.html' title='The Prince &amp; Me'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109891446175035875</id><published>2004-10-27T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-27T19:58:28.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Yes It's Movie Night</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I'm renting a movie. Actually, I'm getting ready right now to venture outwards with my piece of poo crappy car (that I havent driven in a week..). I'm thinking of renting 'The Prince &amp;amp; Me' or 'Jersey Girl' or something equally good and girly. What do you all think I should get? I'm such a homebody... I would rather stay at home and watch movies or do my own thing here rather than go to someone's house party, get "loaded" and go to the bars in our town. I've passed my bar phase, thankfully. It was not the most memorable time of my life, but oddly enough, it was the time in my life where I had the largest entourage of "friends". People from high school whom I'd always known but never hung out with suddenly thought it was cool to hang around me when I'd had a drink or two, or even just seeing me being out. It was fun, mind you, but I can't keep up with that lifestyle all the time. Being at home, comfortable with my hunny is the best thing in the world. Nothing beats that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to venture outwards and get a movie..back later!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109891446175035875?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109891446175035875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109891446175035875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/oh-yes-its-movie-night.html' title='Oh Yes It&apos;s Movie Night'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109866828751518670</id><published>2004-10-24T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T18:38:07.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is What's Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What's up with me right now&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently being considered for three job positions (&lt;em&gt;Call Centre, Tourism Development Officer, Genealogy &amp; Archiving)&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next monday (nov. 1st) marks the 4 year anniversary mark for Josh &amp; I. He is planning a surprise.. I'm both nervous and excited about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to stop scrapbooking for the time being. I'm taking up a different craft hobby of cardmaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109866828751518670?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109866828751518670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109866828751518670' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109866828751518670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109866828751518670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/this-is-whats-up.html' title='This is What&apos;s Up'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109823857801548553</id><published>2004-10-19T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T19:16:18.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Major to Bother, I Guess..</title><content type='html'>*knocks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello? To the world of readers who tend to *ahem* remain anonymous and not post comments..this blog is being updated and maybe there will be a comment or..maybe two? Make a girlie girl happy and comment, wouldja?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;News. My old best friend sent his loving birthday wishes along to my mother today through his own mother. But nonetheless, I can't help but wonder if he'll send even that along at my birthday or if he really doesn't care anymore. This makes me sad in a way that I haven't felt in a while. I just stopped caring, or at least stopped trying to care. Our friendship was never really fully stable, and was always based on his terms. This meaning that, we would hang out, watch movies, talk, not talk all under his terms. It was his say. If he wanted something, short or longterm, he would come around and if he wanted to be without ties he would ignore me. Rather unhealthy.. after receiving an email from him a few months ago about his needing more time to deal with other things on the forefront of his life before he could undergo out friendship, which he considered "something major", he didn't want to talk to me. Fine. I didn't even reply to the email. I wasn't even mad. I was &lt;strong&gt;crushed&lt;/strong&gt;, to say the very least. Because I had finally dug up enough courage that took 4 months to dig up, and called him, only to be rejected. He had led me to believe we would hang out, talk...whatever, but it didn't happen. That's when it clicked that he just didn't care how his actions affected me, and how it would have an impact on the potential of a friendship later on. If we can't just be friends, on equal terms, then I can't be friends with him when he sees it fit. He's forgotten other landmarks (so to speak) of my life, so I'm not expecting him to send so much as a pebble my way for my birthday. I find it strickingly odd that he even remembered my mother's birthday, when he does not remember his own mother's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone out there want a friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109823857801548553?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109823857801548553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109823857801548553' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109823857801548553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109823857801548553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/too-major-to-bother-i-guess.html' title='Too Major to Bother, I Guess..'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109811188727907872</id><published>2004-10-18T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T08:04:47.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Task of a Week</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend, the Mr and I watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289879/"&gt;The Butterfly Effect&lt;/a&gt; which I really liked. It's a good thing that they put 'Controversial Subject Matter' on the rental case, otherwise you wouldn't really be prepared for some of the scenes. It's not gory or scary, but you do tend to subject yourself to a &lt;em&gt;LOT&lt;/em&gt; of emotion while watching this film. It's one of those 'makes you think' movies that you'll probably end up having an unhealthy &lt;em&gt;'love/hate'&lt;/em&gt; relationship with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chatting with Josh's mother on friday and happened to mention that I'm trying to read all of Oprah's Book Club novels, so she gave me 8 of them to take home and read. So far I've read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's Come Undone&lt;/em&gt;-Wally Lamb, &lt;em&gt;The Pilot's Wife-&lt;/em&gt;Anita Shreve (&lt;---I recommend this one!!), &lt;em&gt;Back Roads&lt;/em&gt;-Tawny O'Dell, &lt;em&gt;Icy Sparks&lt;/em&gt;-Gwyn Hyman Rubio and right now I'm reading &lt;em&gt;Where The Heart Is &lt;/em&gt;by Billie Letts. I've seen the movie, but we all know that books are always 100% better than movies. After this one, I'm going to read &lt;em&gt;Drowning Ruth&lt;/em&gt; by Christina Schwarz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my task is to successfully clean out my room and rearrange a few things. It doesn't take a lot of time to write that out, but I can tell you it will take me today and probably part of tomorow to do all of this. Especially if I park my ass in front of the computer, it could take me all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to go and make an attempt at my room. I'll be leaving my MSN going, so unless you message me, I probably wont know you're online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109811188727907872?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109811188727907872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109811188727907872' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109811188727907872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109811188727907872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/daily-task-of-week.html' title='Daily Task of a Week'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109781513882456401</id><published>2004-10-15T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T21:38:58.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Not Disturb</title><content type='html'>We all have issues. Some of us don't take the time to acknowledge them or admit to them, but the rest of us make the effort to remedy them as best as we can. This life that I lead would be so much better if I wasn't in front of this stupid idiot box everyday. I'm taking some time away, to re-evaluate certain aspects of my life, and work at becoming a better person. Not this lazy home-body who spends her days in front of the computer chatting and surfing while there are millions of things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So until I return, most likely none of you will be hearing from me since the interweb is the only way I communicate with you all. This is not a personal attack on anyone, and I will miss the lovely and entertaining chats we've all been having.. but this is something that I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109781513882456401?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109781513882456401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109781513882456401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/do-not-disturb.html' title='Do Not Disturb'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109769264969542566</id><published>2004-10-13T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T18:04:49.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>::Yes, I AM Normal::</title><content type='html'>I don't know &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to say to certain people anymore. I could name specific examples but I wont, instead I will just say that I'm degraded in so many ways by people that I just wish I knew none of them anymore. Why is it that I should be made to rethink certain aspects of my life simply because someone else has more education or different standards than I? The answer is simple, &lt;em&gt;I shouldn't&lt;/em&gt;. However, believing the answer is completely different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I didn't persue higher education in a big name university. I decided to go to community college instead, and that didn't work out to my advantage because I ended up hating what I was taking. Quitting doesn't make me a person who 'doesn't go far in life', it makes me a person who does not know which career path to take yet, and that is perfectly fine. If I'm not extremely bothered by it, then other people shouldn't dwell on it either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I still live at home with my parents. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; It's not like I'm going to be living here forever. And it's absolutely fine to stay with your parents until you get yourself enough money and necessities for when you do move out. I get all the space that I need, I don't have the headache of paying rent, phone bills, electric bills, cable, internet and grocery bills but I do pay my own way for anything I do need and want. I contribute though I don't have to. I have my own priorities to take care of before I move, and because I'm part of a lasting couple I also take in consideration what is best for Josh and I, and his own priorities as well. Does this make me lame? If it does, perhaps you should look at your own priorities and ask yourself if what you're doing is really making you happy and if you will benefit from what you're doing before making me feel two centimetres high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my boyfriend and I go to the jewelry store and look at the engagement rings, and he asks me which ones I favor and which ones I don't. &lt;strong&gt;Is this really wrong?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;NO!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; So don't make me feel inferior because we do these things. They're little fun things that we do together, and we could care less if "not everyone's doing it" or "it's the guy's &lt;strong&gt;job&lt;/strong&gt;". No two couple is the same, and I don't judge the inner functions of other couples, and I would expect the same from others. Somehow, because it's me though, people couldn't care less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I respect my friends, I don't say anything about their lifestyles unless I feel that they may be hurting themselves in some way. I try to listen, to understand and even if I don't, I don't try to make them feel bad for what they are doing. When does this pay off? Not very often with certain people. Yet I still try. Seriously guys, I love you all whether you're online pals or real life friends, but today I just felt like crap. I hope you understand if I vent on this. Sometimes things are just enough to handle. Give me a break, tell me you think what I'm doing is a good thing once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109769264969542566?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109769264969542566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109769264969542566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109769264969542566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109769264969542566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/yes-i-am-normal.html' title='::Yes, I AM Normal::'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109751147640995949</id><published>2004-10-11T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-11T09:17:56.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>About yours truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Age&lt;/strong&gt;: 21&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;D.O.B:&lt;/strong&gt; Dec. 05 1982&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Province of Birth:&lt;/strong&gt; Nova-Scotia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Relationship Status&lt;/strong&gt;: long-term relationship, very serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;:::Favorites:::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Color:&lt;/strong&gt; blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CD:&lt;/strong&gt; Maroon 5-&lt;em&gt;Songs About Jane&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;T.V. Show:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Will &amp; Grace&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Movie:&lt;/strong&gt; none at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;White Oleander&lt;/em&gt;-Janet Fitch; &lt;em&gt;Summer Sisters&lt;/em&gt;-Judy Blume; &lt;em&gt;The Pilot's Wife&lt;/em&gt;-Anita Shreve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Magazine&lt;/strong&gt;: Cosmopolitan, Glamour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:::Passtimes:::&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Reading novels, writing in this blog or other, writing poetry, scrapbooking, chatting on MSN and posting on&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://meags.net/phpbb/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;forums&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109751147640995949?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109751147640995949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109751147640995949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109751147640995949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109751147640995949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/about-yours-truly.html' title=''/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109746240452408409</id><published>2004-10-10T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-10T19:40:04.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Little Mocha</title><content type='html'>Happy Give Thanks Day to everyone out there-- I hope you all indulged in some fantastic turkey, ham or your choice of meats/foods that get you off on this lovely holiday. I, myself, have enjoyed two lovely thanksgiving meals today. Turkey at both places, I might add. And both times, it was just delightful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got to spend the entire weekend with Josh, which just made everything even better. On Friday he showed up after work and we had dinner in town, and walked around downtown and voyaged into a few little shops where I picked up some scrapbooking materials. Saturday we spent most of the day in town again, and then headed up to the french shore where we did a little bit of shopping, and I picked up even more scrapbooking supplies. We drove around a while and headed back near our town, where we had dinner and continued our shopping.  It was nearly eleven o'clock when we arrived back home, where I thought it odd that my little siamese cat Mocha didn't meet us at the door. But sometimes she would venture off in back of the house, or in front and play with my other cat, Bear. So I didn't bother holler for her to come in. This morning, my mother woke me up to go to church and sat next to me on the couch as I groggilly sat up, and told me that she had some bad news to tell me. My cat, Mocha, had been hit by a car last night. It took a minute for it to sink in, and when it did, I cried. My cat.. my company..the one I talked to when everyone else was at work or out or just plain busy. She was so soft and had the prettiest blue eyes you'd ever see on a cat. I miss her so much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109746240452408409?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109746240452408409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109746240452408409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/goodbye-little-mocha.html' title='Goodbye Little Mocha'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109720633152733410</id><published>2004-10-08T00:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T20:32:11.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Talk About Sex, Baby.</title><content type='html'>In this day and age, you would think that people would be more open to conversation. Doesn't it seem odd to you that our province is currently debating whether or not gay marriages should in fact be permitted, yet parents can't talk to their children/teens about sex related issues? There are more young girls walking around the town that I live in these days with baby strollers and pregnant bellies than ever before. There is a forever increasing number of sexually transmitted diseases out there, and people seem to be getting more and more ignorant to the facts about sex. Also, what I'm seeing is that young people have more misconceptions about sex and what it really is all about and the differences between having sex and making love. Do people even still have Sex Ed in school to help them deboggle myths and facts? Or did they chalk it up to 'figure it out on your own, here, have a condom and practice safer sex'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not claiming to know everything about sex, but what I am trying to get out of my system is that I simply do not understand what it's all coming to, this town, this province..this country..this world is going insane. No one tries to talk to their kids anymore, and some of them grow up to be confused individuals who learn things the hard way. Some are smart enough to know right from wrong. But others wont know it's wrong to have sex at the mere age of 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, one ounce of pleasure change change your entire universe in just a matter of minutes. And people don't always know that. They no longer see the importance of purities, they only see lust and physical because that is what the media portrays every single day. I'm not going to point fingers and do the whole 'Blame the media!' deal. Teens don't &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; anymore. They just act. They lay down and lose themselves with just anybody, unprotected, and only think afterward that decisions and consequences will be to come. If you don't get to know the other partner, you might end up with STD's, pregnancy and you could find yourself alone. Facing the decision of, &lt;em&gt;Will I have this baby? Will I raise it on my own? Can I do this? What about school? My parents will kill me! Should I abort the pregnancy? Should I give the baby up for adoption? What do I do? I can't do this! I can't live another day with these questions!&lt;/em&gt; And then, &lt;strong&gt;WHAM!&lt;/strong&gt; the weight of the world collapses on them because they feel the heaviness of their decisions and actions on their shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that would have happened if there was more structure, stability, and more closeness with their families? If kids had a mind of their own these days instead of the garbage that is fed to them by the media, the news, the constant sex sex SEX on tv..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Structure, people. Brains. THINK. Then you wont wonder what you'll do next, how you got in that mess or why it happened to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109720633152733410?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109720633152733410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109720633152733410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109720633152733410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109720633152733410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/lets-talk-about-sex-baby.html' title='Let&apos;s Talk About Sex, Baby.'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109711515496033863</id><published>2004-10-06T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-06T19:12:34.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boredom and Aol-Speak</title><content type='html'>Josh has decided to go and work on Brier Island with his crew. This will include his moving on the Island with the crew from Monday through to Friday and coming home on the weekends, working 12 hour days and living with the other men. He will be making more than his usual salary, which is already pretty good, and he will be working more hours working on residential buildings-something he studied in College. He's not thrilled about going, because he's not keen on living with the crew, since there are a couple of guys who get on his nerves easily and are alcoholics. But, he wants the experience, and he's decided that he'll tell his boss tomorow morning that he's going. So it will shortly be a done deal. I feel pretty good about this decision, I'm glad he'll have steady work at the same place and doing something that he already loves to do. I hope he succeeds with this project, and he's hoping he does too. I'm supporting this decision as much as I can. He was totally supportive of my decision of moving to Portland, Maine last year for my job. That was for 6 months, while this move for him will only be two weeks, possibly a little more. I'm proud of him, for doing this :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I've been throwing myself into my scrapbook tonight, and I managed to do two pages. One on our 2002 prom and the other on our first camping trip together. I needed letters and I didn't want to write it myself or use the crappy looking felt letters that I bought, so I printed off some paragraphs on the computer and pasted them to the template. It looks pretty good, one of the better pages I've done on this scrapbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so bored tonight, I can't believe that I'm actually writing about my scrapbook. No one who reads this would be interested in it. There's no one online to have an intelligent conversation with. The only people who are on are the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"omg wtf it waz so kewl! ya i kno! LOLOLOLOL.'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; types of people or the people who only answer &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;'ya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;' or &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;'no' &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;or who only say three or four full words as a reply like &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;'i don't know'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;'i'm like so bored'.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I don't even know why I've kept them on my list for this long. Maybe it's time to reconsider some contacts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone out there wants to have an intelligent or meaningful conversation, come an' get me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109711515496033863?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109711515496033863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109711515496033863' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109711515496033863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109711515496033863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/boredom-and-aol-speak.html' title='Boredom and Aol-Speak'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109703210855732181</id><published>2004-10-06T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T20:14:20.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh this? It's JUST my heart.. </title><content type='html'>If you tell someone that you'll call them, and you don't.. does that make you a good friend? No. In fact, it makes you the opposite. It's the same when you tell someone that you're busy, but you want the story later but never ask. It's the exact same as telling someone that you'll be online to chat with them since you don't get to talk otherwise, and you don't show up. It's the VERY same if you chat with someone online daily and ignore them in person. I'm so SICK and tired of people who think they can treat me this way. I have these things called &lt;strong&gt;feelings&lt;/strong&gt;, where I get hurt when they get stepped on and then kicked to the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I disappeared and you no longer had that familiar person to chat with online, on the phone or via email? What if that one person that you can always rely on to keep you entertained, that makes you feel accepted, just vanished away from all familiarity? I'm guessing that at first, there will not be much notice to this, but then there will be question and eventually forgetfulness. You wouldn't think twice about this person and their feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try like hell to be a good friend to people. I listen to constant bitching, nagging, sob stories, horror stories, heartbroken tales of cheating and lust and stalking. I listen to people's innermost secrets and I keep my trap closed about them. I respect people's opinions and let them just be themselves. And all I want is for those people to do the same or at least try to do the same for me. Is that to much to ask, really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey. I'm 'just Lynn'. The person who made a few bad choices and pissed off some people in high school. It's a rare person who takes the time to know who I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Thank God I have the best family and greatest boyfriend in the universe. Otherwise, I'm not so sure what I would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109703210855732181?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109703210855732181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109703210855732181' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109703210855732181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109703210855732181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/oh-this-its-just-my-heart_06.html' title='Oh this? It&apos;s JUST my heart.. '/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109698811844341519</id><published>2004-10-05T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T07:55:18.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Past Moment</title><content type='html'>Hello? Is this thing on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past two posts did not go through, so I'm a little miffed at this blog. I'll try it again, and if it doesn't work--I'll..uh..throw dental floss at it. How's that for a 'work or else!' threat? Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. So I've only given out this URL to two of my friends, therefor, I know that very few people who actually know me read this blog. With that being said, I'm going to speak freely in this entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I had a brainwave of sorts. I was chatting with a friend of mine, when I thought back to past friendships of mine that were ultimately very very unhealthy. Particularly my friendship with my best friend since pre-kindergarten, Ian, whom I went through basically every 'huge' thing with in my life. He saw me through deaths in the family, births, marriages, my own first relationship, other relationships, crushes, dating someone who in the end forced himself on me and changed my entire life around. Ian threw my world off of it's axis when he told me, even though I had already known, that he was gay. After coming out to me, our entire friendship changed. It became all about him, one sided and all about his extreme crushes and relationships. What hurt most was when he confessed that he had been crushing on a boyfriend of mine, and that he thought he'd be better off dating him than me. Hm. Our friendship has always been strong, we've always been close, but after his confessions he distanced himself from me to better find himself in different communities. When he left for university, that was it. Since then, we've basically never spoken. We've hung out, talked, but only a mere fraction of what we used to. And I went through a lot by trying to move on without him to talk to..but today I'm glad that everything unraveled this way. If it had not, perhaps I'd be facing the same issues as I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is definetly hard to lose someone as a friend. Will it be by death, seperation or by choice, things never happen in an easy way. Someone always gets hurt. But in the end, it does get easier. When it's an unhealthy friendship, it's important to shed that extra weight off your shoulders, because otherwise you're going down with them. I realise now, that part of my past behaviour was due to some unhealthy friendships that I had occured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109698811844341519?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109698811844341519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109698811844341519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109698811844341519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109698811844341519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/past-moment.html' title='A Past Moment'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109694651620388667</id><published>2004-10-04T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T20:21:56.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Longer Meshing</title><content type='html'>Some people are healthier without bad friendships dangling over their heads. I realised tonight that without a few past friendships, I'm the healthiest mentally that I've ever been. And this is all in thanks to a couple of people that I've been friends with for literally many years. As much as I would sometimes like to touch base with them again at some point, I think it's best to keep all lines of communication closed between us. Things get too complicated and bad feelings emerge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend, whom I've known since kindergarten and have gone through absolutely everything with, including bad relationships, first everythings, rape, him telling me he's gay and many, many other things.. is no longer on my list of recognizable people. We haven't spoken more than a few words for months now, and we've been strangers. Even though we spent most every moment together, and people thought we were a couple, we are now two different souls wandering at different paces through life. There are no more arguments, disagreements, heart aches..no more wondering what I did to deserve the cold shoulder. And even though I cried many nights, trying to make myself believe that it was just another argument and that we'd see through the fog eventually, I now realise that it's better that we leave it the way that it is. If I see him, I wont turn my back. I'll be glad to see him, but, that's all that it will be. Our friendship, has been laid down to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another old friend of mine since high school, one of the only that I bothered to keep, has branched off. I received an email that said that sometimes people grow apart, we no longer mesh as we once did. I believe this. Sometimes people grow apart, we get tired of debating, arguing, feeling sheepish and lonely, and we cave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without those two friendships, I feel better with myself. I know myself better than I used to, and I'm sure that they helped define who I am as a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109694651620388667?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109694651620388667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109694651620388667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109694651620388667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109694651620388667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/no-longer-meshing.html' title='No Longer Meshing'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109685527383701840</id><published>2004-10-03T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-03T19:01:13.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Echo on the Blog</title><content type='html'>I don't have anything to complain about. Nothing. Odd, eh? Usually after a couple of days of not posting, some people need to vent about something, but I don't. I had a good weekend, overall. Friday night, we went to the movies to see Shark Tale. Saturday I spent the day shopping with my Mom, and I did a little bit of early Christmas shopping and managed to buy something for one of my sisters and Josh. We shopped basically all day, and that night Josh and I dined at a harbourview restaurant and then rented 'The Ladykillers' starring Tom Hanks, and watched it with my parents. Today was spent with firstly going to church, then Josh and I cooked brocoli and cheese rice with some turkey breast and veggies for lunch and spent the afternoon watching Will &amp; Grace, and tonight we ventured out to Pizza Delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorow I'm starting a...are you ready?...diet. Let's see how this one goes. First goal, 5 lbs. I'm starting with small goals, that way, I'm not setting myself up for huge letdowns if I fail. I'm about ready to go and drink my farewell pepsi, and munch on some kind of junk food. See, no one reads this thing so no one will care if I talk about diets and whatnot. If people read this, they sure as heck don't leave me any comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109685527383701840?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109685527383701840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109685527383701840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109685527383701840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109685527383701840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/echo-on-blog.html' title='An Echo on the Blog'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109660124563801815</id><published>2004-10-01T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T20:27:25.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Flies Time</title><content type='html'>Can you believe it that we're already October? Honestly, people small talk about a number of things, including how fast the time goes by. But seriously, where does the time go? In already three days there will be a full month that I have been unemployed, in one month it will be mine and Josh's 4 year anniversary,  in two months and four days I will turn 22 years old and in two months and twenty four days it will already be Christmas. It's unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling much better as I write this. I'm munching on my Hershey bar and slurping some Pepsi, and cherishing this moment. Why? Simply because my throat has been so sore that I could barely speak, let alone eat. Some people tell me that I probably have mono. Great. I'll know next week what it is, I went on the blood tests today. I'm far less tired than I was earlier, but maybe that's the two Advil that I took. My sore throat is still existent, but not too bad that I can't enjoy a snack. I have a freezer full of Popsicles, and a fridge full of juice. So I think I'm set if I need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109660124563801815?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109660124563801815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109660124563801815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109660124563801815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109660124563801815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/10/and-flies-time.html' title='And Flies Time'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109641179926863170</id><published>2004-09-28T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T15:49:59.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching My Life Go By</title><content type='html'>Today I snapped. And I don't know what threw me over the edge. I'd never felt so angry, so disgusted and fed up in years. Around 4 o'clock this afternoon, I threw a tantrum where I screamed at the very top of my lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of being home. I'm sick of not working, and I'm sick of what seems as having my life on pause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to work again, and I want my own place and most of all.. I don't want to be home alone day in and day out with no one calling me and no one to call and talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE having to come online as my only source of communication, and I can't stand the fact that when I do come online people are too busy to talk and my whole online contacts are 'Away'. My computer is always on, and no one ever messages me or emails me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed. And I screamed so loudly that I lost my voice for almost an hour, I shook and I was nervous for even longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109641179926863170?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109641179926863170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109641179926863170' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109641179926863170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109641179926863170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/watching-my-life-go-by.html' title='Watching My Life Go By'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109630934531402063</id><published>2004-09-27T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T11:22:25.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Outward Bound</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, Josh and I took a trip on the &lt;a href="http://www.scotiaprince.com"&gt;MS Scotia Prince&lt;/a&gt;. It was a 23Hr Mini Cruise, and even though I'd been on the ship dozens of times last summer and he had been on it a few times as well, we both thought we'd have a blast. And for the most part, yeah, we had a great time. Until we were faced with a poor cruise staff who mislead us to US Customs. This is how things unraveled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5:15 am&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- Wake up! Oh dear, this is early!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6:30 am&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-On the road, we go! Packed bags and passports, camera and small yawns..we're ready to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8:30 am&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-All aboard the MS Scotia Prince! We begin our mini cruise, and I'm so groggy from the gravol that I had just taken, so I curl up on the bed and snooze a few hours. Josh gets breakfast and meets some friendly people that would later come in handy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3:00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- &lt;em&gt;(I know this is a huge jump, but literally, I sleep most of the day, and so did Josh..) &lt;/em&gt;We get dressed for a day buffet, and go to the &lt;a href="http://www.scotiaprince.com/amenities/?snid=23"&gt;Concorde Dining Room&lt;/a&gt; where we eat a huge buffet, and have super duper yummy brownie cake dessert..YUM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, we walk around, browse around in &lt;a href="http://www.scotiaprince.com/amenities/?snid=28"&gt;The Shop&lt;/a&gt;, but don't buy anything yet. Later on, we'd find out that we both forgot our toothbrushes, so we go up to buy some. Friggin' $3/USD for a simple brandless toothbrush that we'll only use once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;7:oo pm-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Arrive in Portland. The staff tells us that we have to fill out a Customs Declaration Card and take one piece of luggage with us, along with our ID's. This is weird, because normally, you take your ID's and get a Landing Card, which gets you off the ship first and through Customs that much quicker. But no, they have to be difficult this time and change everything because of the &lt;a href="http://www.scotiaprince.com/pressroom/pressroom.php?pid=14"&gt;Mold Issue&lt;/a&gt;. Everything is messed up on the Portland side since the terminal is closed. Oh well. So we spent 43 minutes walking off the ship, going through Customs and talking to two officers, then getting stopped by another customs officer, then being directed to the parking lot when we were redirected to the Ticket Office, which was a white tent with a wooden desk and two computers with two women sitting there. They direct us to another tent, where we go through security, which is a 16 year old boy wearing a sash with the word "Stop Here" on it. He lets us through, finally, and we see the couple Josh met earlier. They were doing the mini as well, and had been treated the same way as we had. So, we stick with them and go through a ticket collector who demands us to have tickets or we don't get on. Ha. We tell him that so far, the staff has done nothing but screw up, not give us landing cards, made us go through Customs, walk all over hell and finally, we don't have tickets because we initially did not have to get off the ship. He does not know what to say, again, he is just a young guy who is probably only 15 or 16 years old. He motions us on the ship, and we embark. By this time, Josh and I are pissed. We go to the cabin, and vent. We're upset at having gone through that, and I'm sad because I didn't get to go to &lt;a href="http://www.mexicaliblues.com/main.htm"&gt;Mexicali Blues&lt;/a&gt; in Old Port, which is one of the closer places to go from the Terminal. We stick around the cabin, and later, we go eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9:30pm&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- We eat. Neither of us feels like eating, we're getting a little woozy from the rockiness. So we venture here and there on the ship, meet people, take pictures and order a few drinks. We drink, we laugh, have fun and then go back to the cabin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;5:05 am Sunday Morning-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;'Good Morning! Wake up call!' from our steward, Ovilio. We get up from a rough night, and snuggle. We get dressed, pack our stuff and at 6 we leave the cabin and browse on the ship until we arrive in Port.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;8:00am&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Home sweet Home!! We're glad to be home, we relaxed, slept alot, but we're glad to be home. We feel that our trip could have gone to much better. And it could have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I feel like calling my old supervisor at the call centre, and complaining. But what can she do? It's not like I paid for the trip, the only thing I spent was $6.75 for cocktails.  So she'll just tell me that that's how they treat their staff. And technically, I am staff. I'm employed by Scotia Prince, since I work at the call centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. The rest of the weekend was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109630934531402063?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109630934531402063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109630934531402063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109630934531402063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109630934531402063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/outward-bound.html' title='Outward Bound'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109599627333841480</id><published>2004-09-24T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-23T20:24:33.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Things In Life</title><content type='html'>Had this entry been posted just a few short hours ago, it would most likely be entirely different than what I am about to post now. I was feeling somewhat bitter and bored, and wanted to complain about ex boyfriends who wont leave me be and my best girl-friend leaving to go to Haiti for 15 days.  I can't say those topics wont grace the journal, because they most likely will at some point, but for right now, my mind is on other things. Much more exciting things, and there's so much to tell and so little time and words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentionned, I was bored earlier. My old friend's mother was in the kitchen visiting with my Mom, and my Dad was outside busy in putting away his wood for the upcoming winter. I was on the 'net as I often am, and my sister logs on. We both say that we're bored and want to go somewhere, so we decide to go to Tim Horton's for tea/coffee and a snack. By the time we leave, it's 8:30 and it's 9:00 by the time we get to where we want to be. We talk the whole way there, the whole time there and all the way home. We've been spending more time together since I've stopped working, and I rather enjoy her company and I'm quite sure that she feels the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad to see that we have so much in common, and so much to talk about. We didn't always used to get along, when we were younger she used to tattle on me for going into her room and playing with her stuffed toys and looking in her photo albums. She hated having me around all the time, but as we grew older, things became easier for us. She moved out when she was 21 or 22, and that made me 12 years old. During my teenage years, we became closer and now, we're closer than ever. She can identify with so much that I'm going through, and she's really easy to talk to. Not only that, but I can talk to her about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it might seem ridiculous to some people, but a simple outing like going out to get coffee, can really help bring two people together. It's really fun. I love meeting people and doing things, simple things that to others might seem insignificant. Most people that I know, don't live near me so that I can do these things with. I have friends in Alberta, Boston and Nantucket Islands and a lot of my other friends are in Halifax or spread around N.S. for the university months. Two of my absolute oldest friends and I are no longer friends. My best friend fell into a depression that's caused him to detatch from anything that reminds him of home or familiarity, which includes me. The other, decided to trash me on their online diary as though they always detested me. Their reason ending up being, their current girlfriend had a deep jealousy of all of his female friends, and he was told that if he didn't end all female friendships that he would lose her. Unfortunately enough, I was one of those he was forced to forget. He was a good friend to me, but, come to think of it, he couldn't have been to great of a friend if he can ditch me because his girlfriend hates girls. So, this is why I feel that getting coffee with my sisters is such a 'pick me up', because they will be with me and near me all my life, for the rest of my life. My mom and I are really close too, and I'm forever thankful to have all these people around me to talk to. My two other girl-friends here have such hectic schedules, it's hard for us to get together often. One is a nurse who works the 7:30pm to 7:30am shifts, and the other is a tour guide part time and a full time girlfriend to someone who is very controlling. This also happens to be the girl who is leaving to go to Haiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point, it's the simple things that can mean the most to a person. Tonight, even though it was a short outing, meant a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109599627333841480?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109599627333841480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109599627333841480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109599627333841480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109599627333841480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/simple-things-in-life.html' title='Simple Things In Life'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109578562627050771</id><published>2004-09-21T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T09:53:46.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Computer Boycotting</title><content type='html'>I've become a lazy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat. Sleep. Wake up. Turn on the computer. Eat. Chat. Surf. Browse. Eat. Check on laundry. Chat. Watch tv. Download songs. Email. MP3's. Blog. Supper. Dishes. Log on. Chat. Browse. Email. Bed. Sleep. Wake up and do it all over again the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. That's what I do during the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get off my behind and go for a jog, a walk, anything to get me out of the house and away from the computer. I don't even like the computer anymore. I wish I didn't have one, and I wish I didn't have one in my room most of all. It's annoying, because it's so addictive. Like caffeine, only worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here on in. No more computer. Until at least the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109578562627050771?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109578562627050771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109578562627050771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109578562627050771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109578562627050771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/computer-boycotting.html' title='Computer Boycotting'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109573431682523034</id><published>2004-09-20T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T19:38:36.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading the Big Picture </title><content type='html'>I'm feeling a little grumpy tonight. There's a long list of my contacts online, and not one of them are available for conversation. How rude! They just pop online and then mysteriously put their status on 'Away' or 'Busy' and I'm left in front of my computer with a dazed look, scratching my sleepy head. Why come online if you're just going to be away from the computer? It would make more sense not to log on until you're available to chat. Or maybe I'm just being weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm in a mood tonight. I took a personality test, actually, a few of them.. and what came of it was that &lt;strong&gt;I'm paranoid, avoidant, borderline, schizoid, histrionic and antisocial&lt;/strong&gt;. Whew. Go easy on the compliments, Mr. Test Maker! I don't know how much love I can handle.. please. I later found out that the personality tests were on a site about mental disorders and personality disorders. Way to read the fine print.. I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will say, that I am a very paranoid person. I always think people are plotting against me, that no one likes me or that they're talking about me behind my back, making fun or being vicious. I'm paranoid with many things, and I wish that would stop. I will say that I'm avoidant to a point, and that I am somewhat antisocial. But I'm working on outgrowing that, if it's at all possible to do. Is it? Who knows. I hope it is. It's not that I don't enjoy people or their company or friendship, because I do. I just prefer to be alone or with minimal amounts of people. Big crowds freak me out, especially if I'm around them with one person I'm close to, and that person goes away for a few minutes. I get so nerved up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: Josh has a huge family on his father's side. And I mean &lt;strong&gt;huge . &lt;/strong&gt;I'm talking, 9 uncles and 7 sisters on his father's side and a whole lot of cousins. There are 110 immediate surviving relatives, and cram them into a small house, where I don't know more than 8 people and leave me there with them..is not comforting. Josh just left to go to the bathroom, and already I felt squeemish. I was nervous that people were looking at me, judging me by weight and how much I was eating or how I wasn't speaking much. I was afraid that someone would crack a joke and make me feel stupid. How lame is that?? I like his family. So why was I so freaked? But leave me in a room with two or three people that I know fairly well, I'm fine and dandy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why I don't have many friends. And I don't. You know how some people say they have no friends, but they have tons? Well, I don't have any friends. I know a lot of people, have alot of acquaintences, but very little friends. It's because I don't talk very much to people I don't know, because I'm scared of being judged. I'm scared I have no personality, no interesting facts or stories to share and I come off snobbish and stuck up. Or maybe that's in my head too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could get over my fears and issues, and just be me. I wish I could stop worrying over whether or not someone likes me or hates me. I wish I didn't care what people thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109573431682523034?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109573431682523034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109573431682523034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109573431682523034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109573431682523034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/reading-big-picture.html' title='Reading the Big Picture '/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109564602887793521</id><published>2004-09-19T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T19:07:08.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About Me Part I</title><content type='html'>Some days, I would like to just take myself and do a complete inner makeover.  Sometimes I really dislike the person that I am, both inside and out, and other days I'm indifferent to it. Most of the time, I'm fine with who I am, but sometimes I'm just so completely aggravated that I'm this way. I don't really seem to know who I am and what my purpose is. I know, I know.. no one out there really does know their purpose. Some might think they do, but really.. who are they kidding? I think that we only know this purpose when we die, or rather, afterwards. But ourselves, we should know most of all above knowing anything else. And right now, I'm not too sure of who I am. I mean, I don't work at the time being and I don't go to school. I don't feel as though I'm skilled at anything outstanding, or anything at all. I don't have any qualities in me that just scream &lt;em&gt;Look at me!&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;I bet you can't do this! &lt;/em&gt;. I don't read mindblowingly intelligent novels or know any trivia that would make people think, and I don't have a knack for fashion or dancing, although I do love both. Ironic as it may seem, I know. What I do have though, are a number of &lt;em&gt;weaknesses&lt;/em&gt; that would take eons to list. Eating, junk food, late night snacking, fast food, greasy food, pepsi and coke, cookies, cake, carbs and basically eating anything and everything that is unhealthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most I've ever weighed was 179lbs, and that's according to the scales that we have in our bathroom. 4 years ago when I started going out with my boyfriend, I weighed 130 to 135lbs and I used to complain about being &lt;em&gt;fat.  &lt;/em&gt;So now, I've packed on some weight, though I'm not huge, just more filled out than I was before. And at first I blamed this on the sunflower seeds that I'd eat religiously. Then I blamed it at always sitting slouched in front of the computer. Then I blamed it on myself. And now, I'm accepting my eating disorder and trying to deal with it. But it's when my stomach growls or feels hungry, I have to learn to ask myself whether or not I am hungry, and if I need to eat. I want to try to do better, and what I want even more is to succeed.  I know, you're looking at the words &lt;strong&gt;eating disorder&lt;/strong&gt; and thinking that it's not possible to have an eating disorder unless you're starving yourself. Not true!! It's called overeating, and it really is an eating disorder. Some people just don't know when to stop. And I do love food, trying new foods and cherishing favorite snacks.. and somewhere along the line, I forgot the line between enjoying and pigging out, and that has added me a good 40 lbs. That's what makes it difficult for me now, to go back and change that, try to get into good eating habits and excercise, because I'm no longer 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, to be 17 again. Not! That was the worst year of my life! I was in grade 10, and had a huge fight with a friend of mine that cost the friendship and it was over a guy. A dumb guy that wasn't worth the fight, but it was also because of the person I had become since a guy I was seeing broke up with me. I'd never been broken up with before, and I was devastated. Didn't know where to turn. I was messed UP! Then, after the fight with this friend of mine, I retreated into 4 months of pure hell with someone that I am forcing myself to forget. Hell. That's where I'd been that year. And no, I'm not going into details. Thankfully, I stayed away from the male species after that for a good while and just hung out with friends. I made the summer all about friends, and it was a good summer. The events of those hellish 4 months had also cost me a huge amount of trust from my mother, so I tried to fix that with her as well. The next year, grade 11, is when I started dating my current boyfriend Josh. We've been together very close to four years now, and he has changed my life!! No one else could have ever made that tremendous difference that he's made in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, because I have no job and don't go to school, I have way too much time to think. And that's why I have no two sweet clues as to who I am in terms of hobbies, skills outside the workforce or just the inner Lynn. So, since I'm on a layoff until May of 2005, I'm gonna use this time to reflect and find out who I am. And you're all gonna have to put up with it in this blog !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you.. this blog.. I think it's gonna be a keeper! I haven't written this freely in a year and a half. Oh yes.. she's a good one!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109564602887793521?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109564602887793521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109564602887793521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109564602887793521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109564602887793521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/about-me-part-i.html' title='About Me Part I'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379484.post-109553748647528913</id><published>2004-09-18T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T12:58:06.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Virgin Entry</title><content type='html'> Here ye be. Another blogging site for me to try out. So far, the longest one that I've stayed with was Diaryland. I've also tried out Bolt and LiveJournal, but they'd both proven to be a bust for me, and I chose to stick with D-Land, mostly due to the fun templates. If this one strikes my fancy enough, then I just might stick with it. Otherwise, it's back to what's 'tried, tested and true'. Oh great, cliches. I can tell this blog is growing on me already, almost parasitically. Maybe not. But it's growing on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, time and again I may be back here to update and keep you all posted. And by all, it's probably just going to be anonymous readers like yourself. Because it just might be a while before I give this address to anyone that I know. I'm finding myself bored with my other blog, because too many people that I know are reading it, and I can't drag myself to write about anything real to me. So, last night when I couldn't sleep.. I grabbed a pen and paper and started writing about how I actually &lt;em&gt;felt, &lt;/em&gt;and by George, it felt good.  I don't have a paper diary to write anything in anymore, and this is the first time in my life that I haven't a diary on paper to write in, and I think it's getting to me. I don't really talk about my true feelings anymore, I don't know why, I just don't. And I should. It's good, no, it's great therapy for me. Always has been.  It's not that things are terrible in my life, because they aren't.. but it's nice to have something to write in.  Thus, I'll be writing in this journal anonymously, and when I see fit, I'll tell people that I know about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew. Long winded, am I. And already, I feel better. Much better, in fact. So, for now, this is it. I have some things to take care of, and you will most likely hear from me again in a day or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog, she's a growin' on me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379484-109553748647528913?l=cuddlynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/feeds/109553748647528913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379484&amp;postID=109553748647528913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109553748647528913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379484/posts/default/109553748647528913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cuddlynn.blogspot.com/2004/09/virgin-entry.html' title='The Virgin Entry'/><author><name>Cuddlynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08398553635699789821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img79.exs.cx/img79/7517/cuddlynn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
