<?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-1654153228279117908</id><updated>2012-02-17T00:09:13.489+11:00</updated><title type='text'>short and sweet.</title><subtitle type='html'>i still believe in destiny</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-2152859384099645861</id><published>2009-11-04T21:10:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:20:57.224+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Wishlist 09</title><content type='html'>1. Milkshake Maker (Milkshaker)&lt;br /&gt;2. New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn. (although I've read them, I'd like a copy of them on my bookshelf!)&lt;br /&gt;3. Maxi dresses! I am totally in love with them at the moment. Swooooon.&lt;br /&gt;4. Reese Peanut Butter chocolate cup lolly things. Since I can now eat peanuts, they are def on my list.&lt;br /&gt;5. Peanut butter. I never got to eat it growing up :(&lt;br /&gt;6. A photo framed picture of you and me!&lt;br /&gt;7. A love letter, lol.&lt;br /&gt;8. Any romantic comedy on DVD. I will love you forever. Except for the ones I already have! Ask to check :)&lt;br /&gt;9. FRIENDS TV series&lt;br /&gt;10. Gossip Girl TV series&lt;br /&gt;11. Skins TV series&lt;br /&gt;12. Any jewellery and I will wear it. Esp crazy rings. I own a lot, but you can never have enough. Snakes, peacocks, ancient Egyptian style. Love it alll.&lt;br /&gt;13. Some kind of artwork, maybe? My walls are very naked.&lt;br /&gt;14. A tape recording of you singing. Or better yet,&lt;br /&gt;15. A video of you singing!&lt;br /&gt;16. Something crazy, I love crazy.&lt;br /&gt;17. A hug.&lt;br /&gt;18. A smile.&lt;br /&gt;19. A kiss.&lt;br /&gt;20. A 'Happy Birthday'.&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/1654153228279117908-2152859384099645861?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/2152859384099645861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=2152859384099645861' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2152859384099645861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2152859384099645861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/11/birthday-wishlist-09.html' title='Birthday Wishlist 09'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-2422920288791342186</id><published>2009-09-06T09:14:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T09:23:19.727+10:00</updated><title type='text'>believe me, I do too</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"It seems, the only one that can't see your beauty, is the face staring back at you in the mirror."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some things that we simply can't change. That we simply cannot do anything about. That despite all our best efforts, we cannot control it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our height, age, ethnicity, hair colour, eye colour, face, body types etc.&lt;br /&gt;Our family, how many siblings we have.&lt;br /&gt;And to a certain extent, we do not have a choice who we fall in love with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is established that these things are unchangeable by nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is so much easier to get sad, cry and whinge about thingswe had no choice over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why am I a head shorter than everyone else?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want an older brother! Why does she get one?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love him but I don't want to. No, no, no!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we all know that getting worked up over things uses a lot of potential energy. So instead, why not direct that energy in another, more positive way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love yourself. Love your family. And get that boy to love you ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has those days. Where you wake up and all you see is the darker, worse side of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Believe me, I do too&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-2422920288791342186?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/2422920288791342186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=2422920288791342186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2422920288791342186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2422920288791342186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/09/believe-me-i-do-too.html' title='believe me, I do too'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-6234567248200441878</id><published>2009-09-02T17:36:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T17:47:35.563+10:00</updated><title type='text'>GG</title><content type='html'>Serena: Blair.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: What? You want a lift to JFK?&lt;br /&gt;Serena: Your mum said you were going to France tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: She has a big mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Serena: But I'm your best friend. She was shocked I didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: Well now you do.&lt;br /&gt;Serena: All I know is how you felt when I left without telling you.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: Is there a reason you're here?&lt;br /&gt;Serena: Stay. Don't let some stupid scandal make you run away like it made me. Like it does everyone in our world.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: Everything's horrible. My whole life is falling apart.&lt;br /&gt;Serena: So rebuild it! You're a Waldorf remember? People don't tell you who you are. You tell them. Stay and fight. I'll fight with you.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: I'm so embarrassed. I'm so..&lt;br /&gt;Serena: So what? Start over. It can be done. I should know. We can get through this together.&lt;br /&gt;Blair: You promise?&lt;br /&gt;Serena: Promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my fave scenes from GossipGirl Season 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-6234567248200441878?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/6234567248200441878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=6234567248200441878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6234567248200441878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6234567248200441878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/09/gg.html' title='GG'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-3211482604965470319</id><published>2009-08-27T21:49:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:50:37.365+10:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>It's kinda funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many secrets, and it's great to be a spectator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because sometimes, you need to be on the outside looking in, to fully understand the inner of the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amazing&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-3211482604965470319?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/3211482604965470319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=3211482604965470319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3211482604965470319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3211482604965470319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-2256859134431115032</id><published>2009-08-14T19:02:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T19:11:55.088+10:00</updated><title type='text'>mundane</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I'll admit it, I was scared to answer love's call.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knock You Down, Keri Hilson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was absent from school today. And if you know me, then you'd know I am constantly getting sick or injured. Extremely accident prone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well no school means a free day, which in turn means free time. Eeeek, more time to get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent today resting, reading New Moon over, playing Farmville (YES!), and Fashion Wars (girly version of Mafia Wars, lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which meant that I was pretty safe, taking two tablets every four hours, reading, occasionally Facebooking. So there was no reason for me to hurt myself, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong. A song came onto the radio today, and I lost it. Once I heard it, I was crumpled over in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you. I was thinking about everything today, unfortunately more free time means more time to think, in turn more time to self-scrutinise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only one person I need right now. And it especially hurts because they will never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never tell. That I need this person. This song was always 'ours'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fretting&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-2256859134431115032?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/2256859134431115032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=2256859134431115032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2256859134431115032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2256859134431115032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/08/mundane.html' title='mundane'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-6537168566531878222</id><published>2009-08-11T18:17:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T18:24:54.173+10:00</updated><title type='text'>upset</title><content type='html'>Heyyyyy. How are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking home from the station today, and the song Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson came on the radio (PS. I always listen to Hamish and Andy :D). And the lyrics made me teary. It relates to me and I think it might relate to you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at you makes it harder&lt;br /&gt;But I know that you'll find another&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't always make you want to cry&lt;br /&gt;Started with a perfect kiss&lt;br /&gt;Then we could feel the poison set in&lt;br /&gt;Perfect couldn't keep this love alive&lt;br /&gt;You know that I love you so,&lt;br /&gt;I love you enough to let you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368618973753394290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SoEqgzD-RHI/AAAAAAAAAHs/pk2Cize27pA/s320/Cute_Pictures_2224.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-6537168566531878222?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/6537168566531878222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=6537168566531878222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6537168566531878222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6537168566531878222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/08/upset.html' title='upset'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SoEqgzD-RHI/AAAAAAAAAHs/pk2Cize27pA/s72-c/Cute_Pictures_2224.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-4401253477217879194</id><published>2009-08-01T21:04:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T21:06:43.070+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Jelly Belly</title><content type='html'>Hey hey guys! I just discovered Jelly Beans is completely addictive whilst not being the best tasting jellybeans. Mmm, watermelon is my favourite. And juicy pear is totally, utterly disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And also;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William is in the snows, John is in Taiwan, and Wiener is heading to Taiwan soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Lonely weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking of a better day&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-4401253477217879194?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/4401253477217879194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=4401253477217879194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/4401253477217879194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/4401253477217879194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/08/jelly-belly.html' title='Jelly Belly'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7739557196005853862</id><published>2009-07-30T16:36:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T16:44:21.261+10:00</updated><title type='text'>threats</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Lunchtime, sitting on the stairs.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick: Do you think I'll push you off the stairs?&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: No, you'll never do that.&lt;br /&gt;Wiener: Yeah, push her.&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: No, I'm too important to you.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick: Yeah, I won't.&lt;br /&gt;Karen: I'll push you all off the stairs if I could.&lt;br /&gt;*all stare at her in shock*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=="&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;At the train station, as the train is coming through.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiener: I dare you to jump off the tracks right now.&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: Darers go first.&lt;br /&gt;Wiener: Quick! Jump!&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: (grabs Wiener's arm) Okay, but we'll go down together.&lt;br /&gt;Wiener: Quick, you're gonna miss your chance.&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: Fine, let's go!&lt;br /&gt;*train passes and stops*&lt;br /&gt;Wiener: Ah, you missed your chance.&lt;br /&gt;*Lisa realises that Karen is missing*&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: Oh hey Patrick, you're stuck with me for half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: Karen's not here.&lt;br /&gt;Patrick: Okay, thirty minutes with Lisa, or dead at the bottom of the tracks forever? *looks at Wiener*&lt;br /&gt;Wiener + Patrick: Dead at the bottom forever.&lt;br /&gt;Lisa: Okay, but the train's going to leave. *walks off*&lt;br /&gt;Patrick: *runs after Lisa* Okay, bye Wiener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There are threats, and then there are &lt;strong&gt;threats&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7739557196005853862?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7739557196005853862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7739557196005853862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7739557196005853862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7739557196005853862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/threats.html' title='threats'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-5835381195084261943</id><published>2009-07-29T20:42:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T20:44:35.702+10:00</updated><title type='text'>you'll never know</title><content type='html'>Amazing. Amazing how you can't even see.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about two people today, one boy and one girl.&lt;br /&gt;And it's so plain that they are madly in love.&lt;br /&gt;But why can't they admit it?&lt;br /&gt;Why are they so afraid to show?&lt;br /&gt;I'll see how this thing goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hehe, I love love&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-5835381195084261943?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/5835381195084261943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=5835381195084261943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/5835381195084261943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/5835381195084261943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/youll-never-know.html' title='you&apos;ll never know'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-1394146153119965330</id><published>2009-07-27T18:21:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T19:04:33.692+10:00</updated><title type='text'>tallyho! *in british accent* (memories plus a little rant)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1. I just thought I'd put some anecdotes or memories from Semester 1, at the Fort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Maths5: Ahhh, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;meeting the Woodhouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. It seems to me that I am the only person who thinks she is &lt;em&gt;totally hilarious&lt;/em&gt;. I think that the people in this class are amazing. Ie. Casey, Ariadne, Wiener, Ginia, Kayla, Matt, Arlo, Deborah, Alex, Alan Fu, Eric, Elliot. What a party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Science5: &lt;strong&gt;MeganWang, Wiener, Elliot FalZONE, Eric ZHAO-dog, Kayla LochNESS, Ginny-AHH.&lt;/strong&gt; Need I saw more?? I will never forget how our group managed to stink up the whole room with a fart-like smell, when everyone else did the experiment perfectly. How we had to run around, opening up the windows to "air" out the room. Haha, our "stories", and how Hyugen and Wang always eat in class despite Tiddon &lt;em&gt;Staring Us Down&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;English5: Ohhh you guys are such a riot! Ms Quirk, who we've nicknamed &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/em&gt;, is the funniest teacher ever. Despite some classes feeling like they drag on. And on. And on and on, we always manage to laugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Elective Geography: My favourite class! I enjoy it so so so much. Pagani and Ms Johanssen are the best social science teachers you could ask for. I adore my "front table" group: (in sitting order) Patrick, Wiener, Matt, Kayla, Bryce, Lisa, Belinda. Love you!! And really, our GERS rocked, despite the fact we didn't have an actual ger because&lt;strong&gt; Wiener fails&lt;/strong&gt;. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Elective History2: Oooh, my favourite subject! Ms Bresnahan is enlightening. She lets us go so wild yet she knows how to calm us down. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Debates, witch parties, radio broadcasts&lt;/span&gt;, you name it, we've done it. I love the people in ElecHist: &lt;strong&gt;Arizona (LOVE YOU), Matt, Bryce, Arlo, Mikayla, Angie, Casey&lt;/strong&gt; :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;FoodTech2: I really saved the best 'til last! FoodTech is so bloody fun, everything is great. Our pracs, our &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"buffets"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and we truly have the best FoodTech teacher, Ms Woodley!! My partner, Angela, is incredible at cooking. Sometimes I step back and just .. watch her. She's great. Hope we have more buffets in the next semester! Class: Angie, Mikayla, Aileen, Patrick, Arlo, Miles. LOOOVE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I can only hope that Semester 2 will bring much &lt;em&gt;much&lt;/em&gt; more incredible, incredible moments. :) (Oh I didn't include GHP, because nothing ever happens in those classes. And they are the least memorable and most boring. &lt;em&gt;Except for PE, I enjoy PE.&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;2. Okie-dokey. I was watching Skins today and I realised something. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am so in love with the British accent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Not the Jamie Oliver accent, but Michelle from Skins' and Hermione's from Harry Potter. Ahhhh. If I could choose any accent in the world, I'd choose Lily Allen's. I love that girl. And I'd walk around Fort talking in my accent. Because you guys know, I'm &lt;em&gt;totally hip like that&lt;/em&gt;. *dances* Wooo!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;3. I finished reading a book recently, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Along Came A Spider by James Patterson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. It is the Best Book I Have Ever Read. It is so amazing. And guess what guys? It's &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; a romantic comedy. Big shocker. No really, it's a thriller/crime fiction. And it is so so &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; good. Really. I really want to see the movie version of it, which was made in 2001, starring Morgan Freeman. And I can't wait to watch it and say how terrible it is compared to the book. I've never been into Harry Potter enough to read all their books. In fact, I've only ever read Book 1, 2 and half of 3 despite owning the whole series. So I've never gotten the opportunity to dish out dirt on the movie because I've read the oh-so-fantastic book version. It was like that with Twilight also, I watched the movie, liked it thus I started reading the book. I'm cool like that, yeeaaah. (No actually, if you knew me, you'd be &lt;em&gt;running&lt;/em&gt; in the opposite direction. D:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;4. I was reading through a person's blog today. I used to know this girl, we went to primary together but we'd never been close friends. Umm, she'd always been the shy type, you know, shy but always quick to please. She was smart and funny, but one thing I can's stress enough, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;she was very very shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. So I was so surprised when I opened her blog and it was just swearing, after swearing, after &lt;em&gt;swearing&lt;/em&gt;. I couldn't help but think that &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;high school hit her hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. Here she is talking about her parents being nasty stuff, and wishing she could murder her brother, how she wants to run away with her boyfriend etc etc. I was, to be completely honest, horrified. I hope one day, if I get to meet her again, to sit down and have a milkshake with her (I hate coffee) and talk to her and try to get to know her again. Because frankly, I have &lt;strong&gt;no clue&lt;/strong&gt; who she is right now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;5. I have an amazing person. He is really good to me. He does &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt; right. And I thank God for him. I hope this blossoms and grows into something that will last. Mmmmmm. I smile thinking about this person! Haha, how corny. Well let's just say he has the ability to make me get butterflies, &lt;strong&gt;just at the thought of him&lt;/strong&gt;. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;6. Oh I'll include a photo because your eyes are probably hurting right now. Sorry :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363062825019129330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sm1tOYFePfI/AAAAAAAAAHk/R3soRLvbF4c/s320/paris_xmas_champs_elysees_getty_images.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He told me if he ever took me to Paris, then I know he would be proposing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hope you enjoyed my little rant, &lt;/em&gt;Lisa xx&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-1394146153119965330?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/1394146153119965330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=1394146153119965330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/1394146153119965330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/1394146153119965330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/tallyho-in-british-accent-memories-plus.html' title='tallyho! *in british accent* (memories plus a little rant)'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sm1tOYFePfI/AAAAAAAAAHk/R3soRLvbF4c/s72-c/paris_xmas_champs_elysees_getty_images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-5668462509350968238</id><published>2009-07-25T18:20:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T18:28:39.861+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fooood Fest '09!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAumFGdaI/AAAAAAAAAHc/xGvGYOA3WkE/s1600-h/SDC12974.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362310213066454434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAumFGdaI/AAAAAAAAAHc/xGvGYOA3WkE/s320/SDC12974.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;These were really nice little tents set up in an Indian harem style.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAuaulYOI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Qa04mBE9FGY/s1600-h/SDC12962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362310210019221730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAuaulYOI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Qa04mBE9FGY/s320/SDC12962.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Mmmm, gooey lines of sugar lollies.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAuNFJi4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/RME_2zgu_3w/s1600-h/SDC12958.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362310206355770242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAuNFJi4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/RME_2zgu_3w/s320/SDC12958.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; This is only here because I like the contrast of the white and the bright red.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAt0hI0rI/AAAAAAAAAHE/1kC5UoTJfP8/s1600-h/SDC12959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362310199762277042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAt0hI0rI/AAAAAAAAAHE/1kC5UoTJfP8/s320/SDC12959.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;I like this picture the most.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Mmm, Bankstown. I've known it all my life and yet it never fails to amaze me. I love it, the cultures, the food, the shopping, even the gangs and the TB's. Love it all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;At the foodfest, I had this lovely fried crab dish, it was nice. But when I left, I did a typical Bankstown thing. I got a porkroll and a 7-11 Large Slurpee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hope you're smiling&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-5668462509350968238?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/5668462509350968238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=5668462509350968238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/5668462509350968238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/5668462509350968238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/fooood-fest-09.html' title='Fooood Fest &apos;09!!'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SmrAumFGdaI/AAAAAAAAAHc/xGvGYOA3WkE/s72-c/SDC12974.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-8082828748681401656</id><published>2009-07-22T23:16:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:17:03.279+10:00</updated><title type='text'>;</title><content type='html'>If it didn't matter, babe, you wouldn't be thinking about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-8082828748681401656?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/8082828748681401656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=8082828748681401656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/8082828748681401656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/8082828748681401656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post_22.html' title=';'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-674780624147159815</id><published>2009-07-22T23:05:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:06:30.215+10:00</updated><title type='text'>HP6</title><content type='html'>Was terrible.&lt;br /&gt;Soooo terrible.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to cry myself to sleep now because it was so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I used to be in love with Harry Potter&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-674780624147159815?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/674780624147159815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=674780624147159815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/674780624147159815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/674780624147159815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/hp6.html' title='HP6'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-179593350805793316</id><published>2009-07-22T22:48:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:03:55.379+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Blaming and waiting</title><content type='html'>"Why didn't you do something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound familiar? I'm sure that at one time in your life you've put the blame on somebody else. Or perhaps, that they put the blame on you. Whether it be something small, something big or something big that turned out to be something small. You've tried to make it look like you were in the right the whole time, and the other person, well, not in the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to John Mayer, we've all adopted the idea of "Waiting on the World to Change". Oh really? The world is going to change if you wait? Really, John Mayer? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me and my friends, we just keep waiting, waiting. Waiting on the world to change." I used to love this song, it gave me a reason to lay back and put the blame on the 'world' for being terrible. Blaming the 'world' for rape, homicide, OD's. Because you know, it's not my problem. It's the 'world's' and I'm just gonna sit back and relax. And DO WHAT? Wait?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because WAITING will solve the problem. Because WAITING will rid the world of poverty? Of AIDS? Of dying infants? Of crazed murderers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another issue I have with this song is 'waiting on the WORLD to change'. Well, who is the world? What is the world? I'll have to answer this question by using a notorious artist, MJ. His song 'We are the World' conveys the exact opposite message to JM's. Ironic how JM is MJ backwards. Which goes to show that JM's way of life is backward to society (assuming that MJ's was progressive. Doubtful.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's true. We ARE the world. We ARE the children. We ARE the ones who are going to make the better day. So get off your butts, world. There is no waiting in this society. No waiting, no backwardness. Get out there and make a difference. Get out there and show the world, the others you care and that you are an active person in the World community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting is not going to get you anywhere. Will children stop dying from hunger if you wait? Will children stop dying from hunger if you blame someone else? Will the person you are in love with know if you wait? Can you blame them getting engaged or married, because you never told them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name of the game is NOT outrunning the blame. Take responsibility for your actions, and DON'T WAIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones WE'VE been waiting for. We are the change that we seek." &lt;/em&gt;- Barack Obama, US President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the change that we seek&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-179593350805793316?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/179593350805793316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=179593350805793316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/179593350805793316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/179593350805793316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/blaming-and-waiting.html' title='Blaming and waiting'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-1543986230469303356</id><published>2009-07-20T22:11:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:22:02.318+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Late nights, gold slippers</title><content type='html'>A true story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late nights, gold slippers&lt;br /&gt;Beer bottles, nail clippers&lt;br /&gt;Drunk friends, fast food&lt;br /&gt;Foul swearing, bad moods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next morning, headache&lt;br /&gt;Angry parents, too late&lt;br /&gt;Trashed room, bad smell&lt;br /&gt;No secrets, kiss and tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mistake, broken hearts&lt;br /&gt;Where did this all start?&lt;br /&gt;Regret and tears&lt;br /&gt;Mean strangers, stupid peers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loud whispers, hushed talk&lt;br /&gt;Silent stares, mean gawk&lt;br /&gt;Turn away, and walk away&lt;br /&gt;Gonna make a new day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-1543986230469303356?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/1543986230469303356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=1543986230469303356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/1543986230469303356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/1543986230469303356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/late-nights-gold-slippers.html' title='Late nights, gold slippers'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-3263388912556434136</id><published>2009-07-20T22:07:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:10:44.765+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy</title><content type='html'>Smile, sunshine! You never know, someone might fall in love with it :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-3263388912556434136?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/3263388912556434136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=3263388912556434136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3263388912556434136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3263388912556434136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy.html' title='Happy'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-6419396726495704480</id><published>2009-07-18T22:00:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T22:01:10.317+10:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>I think I'm in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-6419396726495704480?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/6419396726495704480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=6419396726495704480' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6419396726495704480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6419396726495704480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-6121585356684790561</id><published>2009-07-15T18:21:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:27:59.447+10:00</updated><title type='text'>one whole and perfect day</title><content type='html'>I enjoyed today very very much.&lt;br /&gt;I think I have the greatest family in the entire world.&lt;br /&gt;I slept in gloriously late, woke up to a warm breakfast made by my mum. Spent the morning in with my little brother and sister watching DVD's and being silly.&lt;br /&gt;Had a nice chat with William Q, which I always enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;And my lovely William Tran, kept me updated with texts throughout the day.&lt;br /&gt;Mum took me out for lunch and girly shopping. I love you.&lt;br /&gt;And we had an ice cream eating contest, and my mum owned me and my little brother and sister, hands down.&lt;br /&gt;Bought a new bra, and a new ring today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hope your holidays have been great&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-6121585356684790561?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/6121585356684790561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=6121585356684790561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6121585356684790561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6121585356684790561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-whole-and-perfect-day.html' title='one whole and perfect day'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-9188441980224313312</id><published>2009-07-10T21:21:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T21:29:05.411+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Originality?</title><content type='html'>Living in a world where conforming is the new black, I think it is hard to be 'original', 'unique', 'yourself'. Everybody is wearing the same clothes, sporting the same hairstyle, using the same slang, having the same 'favourites', loving and hating the same things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone we meet, we 'take' something off them. It's human nature. We see someone walking a certain way, we try to duplicate but of course it changes a bit. And we see someone wink and smile at friends, so we wink and smile at friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we really be 'original' in a world that endorses and embraces and thrives on conformity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we really 'unique'? Or are we just pieces and traits of other people glued together? Can this be in fact classed as 'special'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people say "you're one in a million, there is no one out there like you", are they correct? Or should they be saying "there is a millionth of someone in you, and there are parts of you which are similar to others"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, I've been asking this myself over and over. It's scary because I've always thought that I was 'special' and that I was being 'original', but is originality even possible in the world we live in? Does originality even exist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll leave you on that thought&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-9188441980224313312?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/9188441980224313312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=9188441980224313312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/9188441980224313312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/9188441980224313312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/originality.html' title='Originality?'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-3236354961543183531</id><published>2009-07-09T18:46:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T18:51:04.185+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Sugar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SlWukg7Zc9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/yKKX_buG1h8/s1600-h/Photo0095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356379274164663250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SlWukg7Zc9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/yKKX_buG1h8/s320/Photo0095.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was our foodtech "party" today, and I made fairy bread. Om nom nom nom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I loooove fairy bread, it makes me feel like a little princess :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love fairies, when I was small I wanted to grow up to be a fairy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll meet you on the rainbow&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-3236354961543183531?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/3236354961543183531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=3236354961543183531' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3236354961543183531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3236354961543183531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/rainbow-sugar.html' title='Rainbow Sugar'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SlWukg7Zc9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/yKKX_buG1h8/s72-c/Photo0095.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7726405683133089734</id><published>2009-07-08T17:16:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T18:52:23.228+10:00</updated><title type='text'>So Sick of Love Songs...</title><content type='html'>Karen, Patrick, Lisa, Andas decide to go K again!!&lt;br /&gt;It was mainly a LOL, including the pouring rain, my broken umbrella, our soaking-wet state, the fact we bought train tickets even though the gates were open, talking to Ms Schubert and basically telling her we were leaving school. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just sang our usual songs: Don't Cha, Touch My Body, Oops I Did it Again etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karen, Lisa: *singing* Touch my body, put me on the floor..&lt;br /&gt;Andas, Patrick: Hmm, no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. I love you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating at Strathfield Plaza like we usually do.&lt;br /&gt;SO glad that someone else came today, so that the K room was cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;We should make it a weekly thing :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holidays are in two days! I am very very, amazingly excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Til next time good friends&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7726405683133089734?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7726405683133089734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7726405683133089734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7726405683133089734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7726405683133089734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-sick-of-love-songs.html' title='So Sick of Love Songs...'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-2605368821441204997</id><published>2009-07-05T11:03:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T11:31:43.415+10:00</updated><title type='text'>just a thought,</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;If the person you are talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. It may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Winnie the Pooh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes you just want to become a child again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The innocence, the uncaring, the freedom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354781414255935842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SlABU06WwWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/bbJA4mE6oS4/s320/bubbles.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-2605368821441204997?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/2605368821441204997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=2605368821441204997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2605368821441204997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2605368821441204997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-thought.html' title='just a thought,'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SlABU06WwWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/bbJA4mE6oS4/s72-c/bubbles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7050131243602065246</id><published>2009-07-03T21:44:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:36:52.208+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Lame and Lies</title><content type='html'>That's right, I'm talking about Patrick and Karen. Ie. Lame and Lies.&lt;br /&gt;Who else would go crazy the way we three do?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would spontaneously decide to leave school halfway to go K instead?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would make ME pay for the karaoke room?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would spend an hour in a room filled with cigarette smoke?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would jump on the chairs and tables and dance like sluts to Don't Cha?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would spontaneously decide to leave school halfway the NEXT day as well?&lt;br /&gt;Who else would I turn to if not for my Lame Lies?&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU. Even if you guys are crazy hormonal teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind, I dig it.&lt;br /&gt;Yayayayayayayaya. My Lame Lies.&lt;br /&gt;Lame, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love ya bunches&lt;/em&gt;, Lisa xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7050131243602065246?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7050131243602065246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7050131243602065246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7050131243602065246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7050131243602065246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/07/lame-and-lies.html' title='Lame and Lies'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-4244407983485641746</id><published>2009-06-26T16:43:00.010+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T17:42:33.973+10:00</updated><title type='text'>'Lisa' songs</title><content type='html'>I set forth to see what songs were written about persons that share my name, Lisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cat Stevens - Sad Lisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69RXBQe5RYg"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69RXBQe5RYg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"She hangs her head and cries on my shirt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She must be hurt very badly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tell me what's making you sadly?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Lisa Lisa, sad Lisa Lisa"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ben Folds - Losing Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4HqEIxzhC0&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4HqEIxzhC0&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The lights are off again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She took me by surprise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's so sensitive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This sh*t just happens sometimes"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Black tears are falling down her face&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I am wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Black tears are falling and she won't say what I've done"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Losing Lisa, losing Lisa, losing Lisa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And there's nothing i can do"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lonestar - Don't Let's Talk About Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zcvszDA7Bc"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zcvszDA7Bc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"There's wonderful women all over the world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've said it again and again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But she whose name must not be spoken&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Has it over all over all of them"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Don't let's talk about Lisa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't let's even start no, no&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't let's talk about Lisa, please sir&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lisa broke my heart"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weezer - Oh Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ja2ZDugvkmo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ja2ZDugvkmo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Running circles overboard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm wanting to, I wanna do you"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Oh Lisa, can you love me again?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll be holding on to then"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"And if this is our last goodbye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I would love to see you cry&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm wanting to, I wanna do you"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prince - Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/ho-QJGr/music/MePuMmh-/prince-lisa/"&gt;http://www.imeem.com/people/ho-QJGr/music/MePuMmh-/prince-lisa/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Lisa, let's go to the movie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lisa, let's go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lisa, let's go to the village&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lisa, let's go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tell your man, he'll understand&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lisa, let's go"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's alright, I don't care&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Long as you know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Somwhere, some day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We'll be together"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maths and Physics Club - La La La Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEcwJKvbI8Q"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEcwJKvbI8Q&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It was 1988 at the go-go club&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She was selling t-shirts at the punk rock show&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I spent half the night with some clever line&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Waiting at the back of the key&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I lost my nerve and let the next boy through"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"She had the prettiest eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Painted black like her lips&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I would have died for just one kiss"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"There is nobody else&lt;br /&gt;How could they compare?&lt;br /&gt;I don't want any other girl, oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;Just Lisa. La la la Lisa"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;HOW DEPRESSING.&lt;br /&gt;Am I subject to the same fate as my other fellow Lisa's?&lt;br /&gt;First I'm a goth girl selling t-shirts at the 'go'-go' club (&lt;em&gt;La La La Lisa&lt;/em&gt;), then some guy wants to 'do' me over and over (&lt;em&gt;Oh Lisa&lt;/em&gt;), then I' being tempted to cheat on my boyfriend (&lt;em&gt;Lisa&lt;/em&gt;), then I suddenly leave my boyfriend who writes a song about it (&lt;em&gt;Losing Lisa&lt;/em&gt;), then he can't bear to say me name and condemns my name being spoken (&lt;em&gt;Don't Let's Talk About Lisa&lt;/em&gt;), then obviously I hear about this and become sad (&lt;em&gt;Sad Lisa&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm feeling so low right now it's not funny. But I know i'm just being silly because these songs are just written about &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; Lisa's. I'm hoping one day someone will write a nice song about 'Lisa'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Until next time&lt;/em&gt;, La La La Lisa. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-4244407983485641746?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/4244407983485641746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=4244407983485641746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/4244407983485641746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/4244407983485641746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/lisa-songs.html' title='&apos;Lisa&apos; songs'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7730599888942085579</id><published>2009-06-24T17:07:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T18:39:01.767+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Patrick and Karen.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350809207372121394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SkHkn9JOBTI/AAAAAAAAAFY/oHBbz1kodZ4/s320/SDC12696.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SkHjcOzI_QI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/eicTR55J-Vk/s1600-h/Photo0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350807906441297154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SkHjcOzI_QI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/eicTR55J-Vk/s320/Photo0019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you know me, you would know I love to laugh. And I tend to laugh too much, too loud and too often. But laughing is the best medicine, hey?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking with Patrick and Karen in Burwood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imagine us walking very closely in a line across going Patrick, Lisa, Karen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the conversation we were having:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: Stop walking into me Lisa. I know you want me but geez.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lisa: Oh you're funny, you're funny. Go die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Half an hour later....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: Thank you, Lisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lisa: What, for what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: For making me walk into hot girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lisa: Oh my goodness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Karen: Lisa, how come you never make me walk into hot guys?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Old man walks up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: &lt;em&gt;*whispers*&lt;/em&gt; Oi, push her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Karen: I heard that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Old man walks past.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fat highschool guys walks up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: Now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Karen: I heard that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And we play this little game for the next few people including a little boy, an old man bending over and even a chubby woman.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lisa: Ohmygosh guys, I can so imagine us walking like this like drunk hobos in the city in ten years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Patrick: Err..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lisa: Okay fine, three years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Haha, I love you Patrick and Karen!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7730599888942085579?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7730599888942085579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7730599888942085579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7730599888942085579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7730599888942085579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/patrick-and-karen.html' title='Patrick and Karen.'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/SkHkn9JOBTI/AAAAAAAAAFY/oHBbz1kodZ4/s72-c/SDC12696.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-6962187296901703193</id><published>2009-06-20T18:02:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T18:05:14.624+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear "x"</title><content type='html'>Don't listen to the rumours circling school. Don't believe the crowd when they say they think I like KM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't and you know I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set yourself apart from the immature boys at Fort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're amazing. And I think the world of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lis x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-6962187296901703193?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/6962187296901703193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=6962187296901703193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6962187296901703193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/6962187296901703193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-x.html' title='Dear &quot;x&quot;'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7876415044519179103</id><published>2009-06-20T17:59:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T18:05:49.736+10:00</updated><title type='text'>kthnxbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You can spend minutes, hours, weeks or even weeks analiysing over a situation, trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, or would've happened, or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Move on. Move along. Don't hold this stupid grudge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kthnxbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7876415044519179103?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7876415044519179103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7876415044519179103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7876415044519179103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7876415044519179103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/kthnxbye.html' title='kthnxbye'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-9045085653455781894</id><published>2009-06-04T18:34:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T18:46:36.273+10:00</updated><title type='text'>♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Just wanted to say that I think you are amazing, thanks for sticking around. Thanks for just being who you are. Thank you for telling me you love me. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;You deserve so much more than just a blog shout-out and I want to give you everything I've got but the time just isn't right, I hope you understand. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you for being such a strong strong guy, and I think you are incredibly amazing. You have the ability to make people so so happy. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;You have really shown me the true meaning of love, and I hope that one day I could return the favour. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hope you understand that all I need right now is you by my side, a companion, a friend. We've been through the break-ups and I just think it isn't necessary. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you for being just who you are, 100%. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think you are amazing and I've liked you twice before and I'm bound to love you soon some day. But thank you for being such a great great friend. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks for letting me crash at your place, and taking over your computer. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;You mean heaps to me. Thanks for killing that spider on Valentine's day. You just never stop being gracious, and loving and comforting. Thanks for giving me your jumper when it was cold, for sharing your umbrella when it rained, for piggybacking me when I got tired, holding my hand when I was scared. We have been through so so much. Thank you for giving me that last stick of gum, I still remember! Thanks for calling up at 4am to "just check in" on me. Thanks for letting me use your shoulder as a pillow. Thanks for being the man in my life. I know sometimes I let you down, I let myself down, I know I have my shortcomings and I know that I will never be perfect however much I practised. Thanks for understanding that I need you, but not in that way. Thanks for believing in me. Thanks for always being there. Thanks for all the amazing "yummo" sandwiches that you've made. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for making me crazy in love with you. Thanks for everything. You are bloody amazing. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;And finally, thanks for making it real for me. For reassuring me everyday that your love is true. That your hand is always there for me to hold. Thank you for trusting me with your heart. I promise to take care of it. One day, I'll give you mine. Thank you for understanding.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-9045085653455781894?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/9045085653455781894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=9045085653455781894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/9045085653455781894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/9045085653455781894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='♥'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-2452639917772528963</id><published>2009-06-02T17:52:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T18:49:11.605+10:00</updated><title type='text'>don't stop til it feels like woahhhh</title><content type='html'>Hey guys, sorry on the MAJOR DELAY on Olive and Dan... I'm just so lost right now but I promise to write something soon. Everytime I write something, I just erase it again because it just doesn't feel right. (So if you'd like, email me some of your storyline ideas, much appreciated :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I spent a long time just on my back at Petersham Park, watching the clouds. Watching the big adult clouds taking over the small child clouds. Watching as they merged, watching as a child one would come out of an adult one, watching as a child one grew and became a big adult one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that life is a giant classroom, you can never run out of new things to learn, new things to experiment, new things to laugh at, new mistakes to make, new people to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so as I was lying there on the grass, pondering and just letting my mind carry itself, I couldn't help but smile. I embraced wholly this beautiful world. With all of its imperfections and sores, it is still beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am always seen as the happy girl, the lucky girl, the one who will make you smile. And I'm glad I am this girl, real glad that I have the ability to brighten up somebody's day. And the truth is I am usually happy, you can almost always me giggling and laughing and smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is too short to be unhappy. Life is too short to live halfheartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friends, Don't stop til it feels like woahhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa. Be happy! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-2452639917772528963?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/2452639917772528963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=2452639917772528963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2452639917772528963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/2452639917772528963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-stop-til-it-feels-like-woahhhh.html' title='don&apos;t stop til it feels like woahhhh'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-193169499381542812</id><published>2009-05-26T17:58:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T19:09:43.437+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 3</title><content type='html'>"I had a really amazing time tonight," Olivia whispered to the stars. Daniel turned to her and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was their fourth date since the bar, three weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had taken her to a posh restaurant the first date, an amusement park on the second, to a football match on the third and now on their fourth date, he had taken her on a picnic. And now they are sitting side by side on his picnic blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was absolutely perfect. It was not every day that you run into a man that knew about all the constellations, and the myth behind each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had never had so much fun. Each time she felt that her stomach would stop hurting from the laughter, he would say something utterly ludicrous that would make her laugh out loud in uncontrollable bouts, with short gasps of air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned to look at this man. This incredible man who she was extremely attracted to and believed she had so much chemistry with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She studied his face. His skin was a light tan, the colour of caramel. His hair was a dark brown with lighter bits where the sun had kissed it. His eyes were a light brown, and his face was beautifully exotic. He is by background, Australian, Brazillian with a touch of Japanese. But he by nature, was an angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked straight into his eyes. And when she did she felt an electric shock charge through her body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So strong, that it hurt to sit so still and so far away from him. Even though she was less than half a metre from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so strong that she almost wanted to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is love.&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel found himself staring into her eyes. He had been looking at the stars one moment, which he thought were beautiful. But now staring into her eyes, well frankly, it took his breath away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had to look away. He had to break his stare. He was not ready for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he looked back, he saw the hurt on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he knew it. She had been shot by Cupid's merciless arrows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And problem was, he too, felt his heart being pierced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first feelings of a tender love.&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia leaned in to kiss him. She closed her eyes and her lips slightly twitched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood up abruptly and started packing away the picnic food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We need to get going, it looks like it might rain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was stunned. Never had she been rejected so outright before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She rolled up the picnic rug and walked towards the car.&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone in her bedroom, Olivia started to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent tears that were only brought on by a love unrequited.&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone in his bedroom, Daniel could not fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could not believe what a bastard he had been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could he look away from a glance so filled with love? How could he silently reject a girl, whose heart he wished to obtain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just couldn't fall asleep on that conscience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took his coat, and car keys. He went to his car and turned the engine on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had some business left undone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-193169499381542812?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/193169499381542812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=193169499381542812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/193169499381542812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/193169499381542812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/05/olivia-daniel-part-3.html' title='Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 3'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-7369103719331833690</id><published>2009-05-25T17:57:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T18:25:28.487+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 2</title><content type='html'>Two years ago, Olivia swore to herself that she would never let a man manipulate her again. Manipulate her the way George had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had abused her body and her mentality. He acted like he owned her. He acted, she shuddered, exactly the way her father had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought she was in love with George, she though that he was the One. That was why she had let him get away with what he did for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knew perfectly well that she was not his only woman. That he was getting it somewhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days he would come home with gifts and flowers and hugs and kisses. This was the George she loved. This was the George she hoped he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days he would come home drunk, ready to pick a fight. And when she gave it to him, as she usually did, he would beat her up like an old boxing bag. A bag he did not care if it broke or was reduced to shreds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left him, after three years of pain and hurt, when she found him in the bedroom with another woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She up and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was only 21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel had grown up with women all his life. First there was his mother, and five sisters, and amazingly active grandmothers. And then there was all of their female friends too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been moulded and shaped from birth to become a woman's dream. He was tender and sensitive, yet masculine and harboured leadership skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was also, disgustingly handsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had never dated anyone for longer than a few weeks, and even so, he felt that he neither loved nor cared for them much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to take a break on dating for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when he made this decision, two years ago, he was only 22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there was no beautiful girl with a black dress to mess up with his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now 23, Olivia wanted to find true love. She was tired of failing relationships. She was afraid to give her heart away to yet another thief, who would take it and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She desperately wanted love in her life and she would go to any measures to ensure its position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had first seeked love in strange places, the gym, the library and even the Readers' Club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the bar. It was the easy thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel made up his decision to talk to the beautiful girl tonight. He would walk up to her and casually sit beside her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, I'm Daniel," he would say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he would ask for her name, and they would start a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia entered the bar with a heavy heart. She resumed her seat at the counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as she has ordered her vodka tonic, she felt a tap on her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned around and found herself staring into the most perfect face she'd ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, I'm Daniel."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-7369103719331833690?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/7369103719331833690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=7369103719331833690' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7369103719331833690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/7369103719331833690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/05/olivia-daniel-part-2.html' title='Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 2'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-3362262286348448028</id><published>2009-05-25T17:00:00.010+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T18:20:55.534+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 1</title><content type='html'>She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She pursed her lips. She touched her hair, smoothing an imaginary strand, she looked perfect. &lt;em&gt;Tonight&lt;/em&gt;, she thought, &lt;em&gt;tonight will be the night&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tonight, I will fall in love&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned around to check out herself in the mirror. A tight fitting black dress, a plunging backline. Mmm, much too showy for a night out with herself, but perfect, perfect she thought, &lt;em&gt;for falling in love&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She arrived at the bar, a dingy old bar. She headed towards the counter, ready to order her usual vodka tonic. She looked around and checked out the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was the usual group of giggling underage teenagers, the business partners, and a few loners scattered in the dark shadows of the dimly lit bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were always there. She had been coming to this bar every night for the last month. It was almost depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wanted a man, a lover, a soulmate. Someone she could call her own, someone she could fall in love with every day for the rest of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a half hour of watching and drinking she could make out a pair of lovers in the corner, having a heated argument. He telling her he loved her, and she telling him she loved him more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shut up&lt;/em&gt;, she wanted scream. &lt;em&gt;At least you have each other. At least you have somebody to love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that she realised she was absolutely lonely. She had nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She left, as she did each night. Silently and swiftly, as though she was never there in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl with the beautiful face, the perfect dress...had no one to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He almost choked on his drink when he saw the beautiful girl walk through the bar doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There she was again. The most beautiful being he'd ever laid eyes on. Tonight she was wearing a black dress, short and beautiful. She looked perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought he was in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He watched her take her usual seat on the counter. He watched her as she scanned the bar with her eyes, body unmoving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who is she waiting for? Why does she always just sit there, drinking and untalking?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had never seen her with company before, he had never seen her socialise, had never seen her smile or heard her laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He longed to hear her voice, every time she was about to lean in and order her drink, he tried to strain and hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never could. She was too far away. Too unapproachable as she sat there like an angel amidst the dark shadows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept watching her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stood up and abruptly left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where did she go? Why is it that she always go in for half an hour and just leave?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did she have a lover?&lt;/em&gt; She possibly could not. She had looked so upset, so sad. No one in love could be that downcast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it struck him, hard and fast as lightning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl with the beautiful face, the perfect dress...had no one to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Hey my lovely friends! Thanks for reading my story!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Just a note that my characters, Olivia and Daniel, are not actually based on any two persons, but just a concoction of my imagination plus tidbits from random people (like you!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;So in a way, you are contributing to my stories, and in another, they have nothing to do with you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Happy reading,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Lisa xox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-3362262286348448028?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/3362262286348448028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=3362262286348448028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3362262286348448028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/3362262286348448028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/05/olivia-daniel-part-1.html' title='Olivia &amp; Daniel - Part 1'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1654153228279117908.post-8575061841308733136</id><published>2009-05-23T15:10:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T15:50:24.422+10:00</updated><title type='text'>a day in the life of moi</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Lisa, I have something to say to you."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Just say it, Orlando."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Orlando Bloom takes you into his arms and tilts your chin until your eyes are meeting. His lips twitch. He's going to do it! He's going to kiss you!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He leans forward and-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BRRRRRIIIIIIINGGGGG. BRRRRRIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes flutter open. You groan.&lt;br /&gt;You roll over, unwillingly, to look at your super bright alarm clock. &lt;em&gt;5:45...5:45...5:45...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You jump out of bed. It's time to get ready for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Orlando will just have to wait. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You smile to yourself, &lt;em&gt;what a crazy dream&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;You put on some slippers and open the door, and look out into the bewildering darkness that you know is your home.&lt;br /&gt;You take your steps slowly carefully, as you know that the lightest sound can wake up the rest of your family, even though their own alarm clocks will ring soon.&lt;br /&gt;You walk into your bathroom and turn on the light switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's blindingly bright.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You start brushing your teeth, twice.&lt;br /&gt;You take a long, hot shower. During which, you would have either sung &lt;em&gt;I believe I can fly, &lt;/em&gt;or &lt;em&gt;So Yesterday&lt;/em&gt; out loud.&lt;br /&gt;You put on your uniform, which is most probably in a heap on the floor, where you left it yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;You blowdry your hair. It makes a lot of noise. But it's okay, most of the household is up anyway. While you blowdry your hair, you start singing &lt;em&gt;I believe I can fly&lt;/em&gt;, or &lt;em&gt;So Yesterday&lt;/em&gt; out loud.&lt;br /&gt;The one you didn't sing in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;The next part is a blur to you.&lt;br /&gt;You know you must have had breakfast because you fill full, and you know you've packed your bag because it feels heavy, and you know that sometime or rather you had made your way to the station, because you are on the train.&lt;br /&gt;Surrounded by your lovely friends.&lt;br /&gt;You are probably either telling a funny story, and they're laughing.&lt;br /&gt;Or playing cards, and everyone is laughing and you're getting mad that they're cheating.&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, you get to school in one piece.&lt;br /&gt;PUMPED for the day that is to unfold.&lt;br /&gt;You barely remember roll call, and on the way to your first lesson, you smile and wave to people passing that you know.&lt;br /&gt;The first two lessons fly right past, and you smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Recess.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make your way to the stairs, and you set down your stuff.&lt;br /&gt;You smile at the easy, breezy, relaxed environment you are in.&lt;br /&gt;Lessons start and you go to the next two lessons, uncaring. It's such a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lunch.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You head to your locker, which is unfortuntately right at the top.&lt;br /&gt;And you can barely reach it.&lt;br /&gt;One or two of your taller friends are always there to help you take stuff in and out.&lt;br /&gt;You smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your friends are angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Lunch goes by so quickly, and you had spent the most of it laughing, talking, drinking, eating.&lt;br /&gt;You head to the last classes of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Although the rest of the class are feeling rather restless, you are still fine, listening, working and laughing when appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;The bell rings for the last time that day, the last you'll hear until the next morning when your alarm clock will ring again.&lt;br /&gt;You take up your seat on the train, weak with relief that you had not died while trying to get into the train with about a hundred other students.&lt;br /&gt;You lean back onto the chair, and talk and laugh and listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life's good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You walk home, or if you are feeling lazy, someone is driving you home.&lt;br /&gt;You are listening to your favourite song, on repeat. And again and again.&lt;br /&gt;Until you think you can take no more, you turn your music off.&lt;br /&gt;But it's okay because you are home now.&lt;br /&gt;You spend the next few hours either idling, or working. Watching TV, adding to your blog, or&lt;br /&gt;washing the dishes. Folding the clothes, listening to the radio or feeding the dog.&lt;br /&gt;You make light conversation with your family as they slowly come home.&lt;br /&gt;You are most probably reading a romantic comedy, or a historical fiction novel.&lt;br /&gt;Your two most favourite genres.&lt;br /&gt;Your eyelids feel heavy and you know you are about to head into 'Dreamworld' again.&lt;br /&gt;You say a quick prayer, in thanksgiving, repentance and in awe.&lt;br /&gt;You head off to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Hey Lisa, where did you go?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"My apologies, Orlando, I had work to do. Shall we pick up where we left off?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You smile. You are in Orlando's arms again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life is good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1654153228279117908-8575061841308733136?l=howlifeless.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/feeds/8575061841308733136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1654153228279117908&amp;postID=8575061841308733136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/8575061841308733136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1654153228279117908/posts/default/8575061841308733136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://howlifeless.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-in-life-of.html' title='a day in the life of moi'/><author><name>my mother named me lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11587136768886400503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2ni-JE81oYo/Sb40dWYIY6I/AAAAAAAAADI/hnaF6gvYWks/S220/Photo6497.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
