<?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-5597977</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:40:09.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Lips were the Softest Yet</title><subtitle type='html'>"&lt;em&gt;go explore those other women -- the geography of their bodies.  but there's just one map you'll need.  you're a boomerang, you'll see.  you will return to me.&lt;/em&gt;"  -bright eyes.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-10913872379710412</id><published>2004-08-01T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-01T12:07:17.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nice party, stephen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;minus the part when you crushed me..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nah, don't worry about me.  i'm alright.  really, i am.&lt;br /&gt;i was convinced when i sobered up everything would just hurt so much more.  fortunately, i was wrong.  it doesn't hurt too much.  i'm ready to get over you, pal.  but there's one thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i miss talking to you..could we be friends?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-10913872379710412?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/10913872379710412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/10913872379710412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#10913872379710412' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-108766818604597406</id><published>2004-06-19T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-19T11:03:06.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"did you ever think the reason you don't have a boyfriend is because you never talk?  you come off as a real jerk.  you never let anyone in..."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;wow, scott.  that's pretty harsh.  but presumably true.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;note to self:&lt;br&gt;he doesn't genuinely care about you...at least not in the way you do him.&lt;br&gt;stop throwing yourself out there.&lt;br&gt;you're setting yourself up to fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-108766818604597406?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108766818604597406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108766818604597406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108766818604597406' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-108612366932613342</id><published>2004-06-01T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T14:01:09.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>guirwgwrhgfowugjdbwg&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;thanks.&lt;br&gt;thanks a lot.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;seriously -- what's your deal?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;em&gt;i can't pretend i don't need to defend some part of me from you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-108612366932613342?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108612366932613342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108612366932613342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108612366932613342' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-108524883324641840</id><published>2004-05-22T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-22T11:00:33.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i definitely think i'm a winner.&lt;br&gt;oh shit, son.&lt;br&gt;hot damn!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;em&gt;forget english - talk body language.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-108524883324641840?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108524883324641840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/108524883324641840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108524883324641840' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107928264237779223</id><published>2004-03-14T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-14T08:46:22.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;it's love.&lt;br&gt;word.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107928264237779223?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107928264237779223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107928264237779223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107928264237779223' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107750174910225683</id><published>2004-02-22T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-22T18:04:28.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so when did everything get so messed up?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;or better yet - when does everything get better?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;so pack a change of clothes.  'cause it's time to move on.&lt;/em&gt;"  - death cab for cutie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107750174910225683?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107750174910225683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107750174910225683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107750174910225683' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107706033425960354</id><published>2004-02-17T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-17T15:27:28.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a two hour mixtape...&lt;br&gt;one-hundred-twenty minutes of thirty different songs...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;all adding up to the expression of my feelings for you in seven-thousand-two-hundred seconds.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;this tape explains everything i think about you.  how much i think about the time we spent together; how much i regret ever agreeing to go on a date with you; how much i hate myself for falling for you; how much i hate you for growing up, and forgetting about the girl back home; and how much i miss having you around.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;from the moment the words "baby, my heart's been breaking." are sung - till the minute you can hear chris connely melodically proclaiming "it's ok for me to have these feelings for you - and it's normal to want to call you."  every song on it has its meaning and place.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;you're just too blind to take notice.&lt;br&gt;i want you.&lt;br&gt;whatever.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;thanks for the charity hug, darling.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;em&gt;baby, you've got some nerve.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107706033425960354?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107706033425960354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107706033425960354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107706033425960354' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107689662928228512</id><published>2004-02-15T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-15T17:59:02.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a total of 3 minutes introducing people to my parents.&lt;br&gt;a total of 14 minutes spent in a volks wagon golf going to and coming from starbucks.&lt;br&gt;a total of 8 minutes spent in starbucks.&lt;br&gt;an evening that only lasted 25 minutes equating to a complete waste of time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;karma comes 'round in some ways it's almost funny.&lt;/em&gt;"  - !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107689662928228512?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107689662928228512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107689662928228512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107689662928228512' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107560293168373506</id><published>2004-01-31T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T18:38:16.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm a little confused.&lt;br&gt;i really wish one day soon you and i could just sit down and discuss what the deal with us is.  i know - chances are we're supposed to be absolutely nothing.  but it's upsetting knowing the amounts of fun we used to take part in have ended all because you've become collegiate.&lt;br&gt;you confused me today.  put your arms around me twice, but then refused to sit next to me on the train.  what was that?  maybe you didn't really mean to put your arms around me.  so perhaps i'll just try and tell myself it was nothing.  perhaps i can pull it off this time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;jeez.  am i ever going to get over this?  &lt;b&gt;wow.  am i pathetic, or what?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;why do you tease me?&lt;/em&gt;" - q and not u.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107560293168373506?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107560293168373506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107560293168373506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107560293168373506' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-107505227473058988</id><published>2004-01-25T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-25T09:39:25.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really can't believe you.&lt;br&gt;after brushing me off for the passed five weekends or so just to be with your girlfriend - please do not expect i'll be more than willing to give you and your gal directions.&lt;br&gt;and after sending me a text message telling me you hate one of your best friends - you can bet i'll only be disappointed in you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;way to be a jerk.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;oh pretty baby, you're so naive.  but it comes off so cute.&lt;/em&gt;" - cursive&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-107505227473058988?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107505227473058988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/107505227473058988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107505227473058988' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106407515081956276</id><published>2003-09-20T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-20T09:25:50.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this gal right here just got herself a live journal.  so stop reading this.  and check it out at:&lt;br&gt;www.livejournal.com/users/how_we_kissed&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;this might not be updated anymore.  unless i have something to say that none of you should be allowed to view.  later.  check it out, please?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;you wrote to me.  you said you missed me.  but is that the best that you can do?&lt;/em&gt;"  -fairweather&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106407515081956276?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106407515081956276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106407515081956276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106407515081956276' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106367627483727766</id><published>2003-09-15T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-15T18:54:26.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate sleeping straight through the night, being woken up; yet, barely remembering being asleep.  you sort of feel like you just hopped into bed.  that happened to me last night into this morning.  it's a pretty bad feeling.  i guess i slept straight through because of my cold?  i don't know.  but waking up this morning was terrible.  and i had a lot of work to do this afternoon.  i have my first english test tomorrow.  english is the only subject i really care about; but, frankly, i don't give a damn about Anglo-Saxon poetry.  and the two common elements, being four beats per line and alliteration.  i could care less about a mix of pagan and christian beliefs. but whether i feel it's all irrelevant or not, i'll still read and learn the material.  unfortunately i'm a sucker like that.&lt;br&gt;recently i've been finding myself dwelling on the fact that i miss summer way too much.  specifically july and august.  so many beautiful things occured.  so many great trips to the beach. (actually only two, but who's counting?)  so many conversations that lasted till three a.m.  (i'm lucky if i can pull off a half an hour conversation now.)  so many awesome parties!  (these will still go on.  next event:  dance party, details to be given at a later date.)  and then of course there were those saturday nights.  (some of which should be copied down into the history books under the title "great romance of the 21st century" [taking back sunday rip off, anyone?])  sometimes i think i have a photographic memory.  there are some images that are locked in my mind.  understand they're not going away.  understand i want you.  understand i hope no one reads this.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;and oh, oh, oh!  wanted to pull you down.  roll on top of me, baby.  yea, just roll, roll, roll! oh, we'll wreck our clothes, we'll scrape our knees, we'll taste the scabs.  you, sweet, are worth these next four months until i bail out.  yea, kiss behind your ear, drive off in the van.  oh my god.  i think i'm dying in this car seat...&lt;/em&gt;"  -saves the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106367627483727766?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106367627483727766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106367627483727766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106367627483727766' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106358372141253862</id><published>2003-09-14T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-14T16:55:21.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so i was in an absolutely horrible mood on friday.  and i just want to let you all know, i'm ok now.  that's not saying that any of you really care.  but for the few of you that are out there -- hey, guys, i'm in a great mood!  so i have a bit of a cold which is a bummer.  my head feels really heavy, it's pounding.  anyways, the weekend has been spent dancing to piebald, listening to fairweather, watching Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and Office Space, working on my AP physics homework, avoiding the 61 chapters of Pride and Prejudice, and revising some essay for my friend's AP composition class.  look at the parallelism! and sometimes i think about you.  actually most of the time i'm wondering about you.  is everything ok?  i hope so.  take care.  i love you.  xox.  &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;i wasn't supposed to forget your taste.&lt;/em&gt;"  -saves the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106358372141253862?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106358372141253862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106358372141253862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106358372141253862' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106339487089233401</id><published>2003-09-12T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-12T12:27:50.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>maybe with a little effort, you coud pull of being an even bigger jerk than you are now?&lt;br&gt;don't even think about talking to me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;so please forgive what i have done.  no, you can't stay mad at the setting sun.  'cause we all get tired.  i mean, eventually there is nothing left to do but sleep.&lt;/em&gt;"  -bright eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106339487089233401?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106339487089233401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106339487089233401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106339487089233401' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106298436854992233</id><published>2003-09-07T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-07T18:26:08.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;i want you.  ...seriously&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br&gt;so last night was Q and not U/Black Eyes with Steve Dalton, Steve M, and Michael Ballance.  it was pretty awesome.  however, we did not get to see Q and not U.  wow, i was pretty upset about that.  but it's alright, i guess.  i mean, Black Eyes was absolutely incredible.  a bit of hip shakin' going on!  that was real nice.  so it was really great to see Steve D.  i am QUITE the fan of that guy.  so yea, all in all it was a good night.  today there was a BBQ for my softball team.  you would figure we would have a little softball game, right?  wrong!  we played a lot of frisbee.  and it ruled.  i know i loved it!  anyways, today was definitely my last organized softball activity.  i am officially done.  however, i would still love to throw the ball around once in a while.  so yea, this sounds stupid; but, if anyone ever wants to play catch.  really, i would love to.  last night i was talking to Rocky, i realized that he is a very wise guy.  he's right.  there's no need for worrying as long as your hand is in my back pocket.  so i was thinking about everything i have to look forward to once tuesday rolls around(when my junior year actually begins.)  the cotillion?  that day when we get a round object placed on our fingers to symbolize we, the junior class, are all connected to each other as the Class of '05.  SATs.  junior prom?  my first AP exam.  next summer.  europe trip?  yea, i don't really know what else to say.  and i need to read pride and prejudice. later.  i love you.  xox. &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;to me you are the light -- from a lightbulb breaks sometimes.  and the tender warmth inside is released into my life.  and it smothers me in flamesthat lick and scorch my face.  as the smoke reaches the sky, know i'm burning tonight.  know i'll burn for you tonight.&lt;/em&gt;" -saves the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106298436854992233?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106298436854992233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106298436854992233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106298436854992233' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106288020016844171</id><published>2003-09-06T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-06T13:30:00.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Student ID: 5602&lt;br&gt;Homeroom: 11F&lt;br&gt;Locker Number: 622&lt;br&gt;Locker Combination: 14 42 38&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Schedule:&lt;br&gt;1st Period: Pre-Calc Honors/Alfonzo&lt;br&gt;Homeroom/Rudolph&lt;br&gt;2nd Period: Christian Morality Honors/Machovic&lt;br&gt;3rd Period: US I Honors/Storipan&lt;br&gt;4th Period: Latin III Honors/Molnar&lt;br&gt;5th Period: Physical Education/Brogno&lt;br&gt;6th Period: English III Honors/Nice&lt;br&gt;7th Period: Lunch/Zimmerman(hell yes!)&lt;br&gt;8th Period: AP Physics/Savner&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so i absolutely hate my schedule and i definitely cannot stand the people in the majority of my classes.  whatever.  i'll live.  so last night was The Juliana Theory/Hopesfall show with michael ballance and ezra.  Hopesfall, being the only band i really wanted to see, was really good; they were all about the claps. when they played The End of an Era i swear, i almost cried.  the outro to that song, wow, it's so beautiful.  and let's face it, it made me quite emotional.  i wish you had been there.  the scene really disgusted me last night but i don't even feel like discussing it.  whatever to make a long story short, my real good friend was beaten up for no reason.  fuck you.  (wow, that was the first time i've really cursed in a while, obviously i'm mad.) seriously though.  if i flip out on you, please, forgive me.  i'm sorry.  possibly Q and not U tonight?  probably not though.  my sister said she might drive me.  that would be really sweet.  i mean, it's a free show.  Q and not U for free, who wouldn't want to be there?  this is the end.  take care, i love you.  don't forget me.  xox.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;hold it together.  you'll find your peace.&lt;/em&gt;"  -hopesfall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106288020016844171?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106288020016844171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106288020016844171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106288020016844171' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106261150792871820</id><published>2003-09-03T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-03T10:51:47.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Auto response from rad x kat [3:23 PM]:  &lt;br /&gt;i love you steph.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;xoxerinxo [7:13 PM]:  i think youre beautiful!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Diablo Dibujo [6:51 PM]:  i love you!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;it's a fantastic feeling knowing there are a few who care.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;we're not going to protect this heart you have.&lt;/em&gt;"  -saves the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106261150792871820?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106261150792871820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106261150792871820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106261150792871820' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106246772167174048</id><published>2003-09-01T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-01T18:58:50.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Chinese Fortune for the Night:  you are a very practical person with your feet on the ground.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"keep the blood in your head, and keep your feet on the ground."  was Brand New onto something?  according to a cookie, they're right on target.  pretty good advice for day to day living.  Copeland gives some too, "keep that sweet heart of yours beating."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so whenever someone would ask me where my oldest sister lives, the usual reply would be, "Reading, PA."  but that all changed today.  today my sister moved on home to New Jersey.  in fact, she's now living in Metuchen.  it's a weird feeling knowing how close she is.  in a sense it's sort of depressing.  i no longer have a place two hours away that i can run off to when i get angry or upset.  recently i've been pretty upset, but things will get better.  once school starts up, i'm sure.  the other night i was in New Brunswick.  it was an odd feeling knowing that a few of the people i'm friends with are now living there yet i couldn't get in touch with them.  well, it's not that i couldn't have.  i'm sure i could have, but i didn't want to.  to disturb the process of moving into a college is probably equivalent to disregarding social stability in a book such as Brave New World.  this isn't making any sense, so whatever.  the end of this.  i miss you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;driving in your car, miss a stop sign.  fall in love -- just to get knocked down.&lt;/em&gt;"  -thursday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106246772167174048?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106246772167174048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106246772167174048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106246772167174048' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106212719311461221</id><published>2003-08-28T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-28T20:19:53.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>semi-retrospective blog entry, anyone?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so i'm hanging out in the good old state of pennsylvania right now, and i was just watching the VMAs.  i saw Coldplay perform; they played The Scientist, what a beautiful song.  "come up to meet you, tell you i'm sorry.  you don't know how lovely you are.  i had to find you, tell you i need you.  tell you i set you apart."  absolutely gorgeous.  listening to it really reminded me of this passed year.  sophomore year, the easy one.  i'm not going to lie, it was a breeze.  honestly, i don't think i studied at all -- minus midterms and finals.  but this year, it's going to be different.  here i am, soon to approach junior year.  as sr. donna said, "this is the year you realize you do not know it all."  well, sr., i hate to tell you this; but, i've known that i'm naive for quite the while.  so is this really going to be a rude awakening?  probably not.  but i bet it's going to be exceptionally difficult.  i mean, latin III honors and AP physics?  not to mention SATs and taking a look at colleges?  here i am, already stressing.  and i still have at least a good ten days till the end of summer!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;yeah, that's right the end of summer is approaching, what an inevitable shame.  i figured if i closed my eyes i could somehow avoid September 5th; yet, as my top and bottom eyelashes made contact with one another, the last few days of August crept up on me.  i must say, this summer was a great one.  everything i had expected and so much more.  for example, i wasn't expecting to gain one of the most fantastic persons i have ever met as one of my best friends.  but i did.  thus, it was absolutely terrific.  this passed week has been rather bittersweet.  i hope you're thinking to yourself "&lt;em&gt;she was something else.&lt;/em&gt;"  (maybe even, she is.)  just know, there are things i am going to miss a lot.  but as gen purcell wrote in her blog: "summers allow what school years don't."  take care, i love you too much.  xox. &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;remember:  the only thing we need sometimes are chilly nights and warmer thighs.  'cause nothing's like being held sometimes.&lt;/em&gt;"  -saves the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106212719311461221?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106212719311461221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106212719311461221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106212719311461221' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106134860858495005</id><published>2003-08-19T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-19T20:30:34.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well after a week of whining caused by the lack of a topic to write about, it is safe to say the moaning has come to an end!  and so, you all must be wondering what my amazing thesis statement to begin this entry will be.  well, i must tell you it's rather simple:  "my sister is officially tying the knot."  yes, ladies and gentlemen.  that is correct.  jennifer lynn moran has been proposed to!  in fact, a date has already been set, the color theme has been chosen, and the entire wedding party has been selected!  hey, i'm a bride's maid.  that's pretty awesome!  i'll just have to find a date.  but hey, i have over a year.  let's not rush things.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;so anyways..when i heard the great news yesterday, i was really excited.  and then it finally hit me how strange all of this really is.  for once i realized how short life is.  i'm the youngest person in my family, both immediate and extended.  and sure, my cousin's have gotten married.  but to hear that my own sister will actually be settling down?  it's a really weird feeling.  last night i was hanging out with mike ballanco when he said, "what i really look forward to:  sleeping in the same bed as someone else.  not the sex part, just being able to fall asleep and wake up next to the same person the following morning."  it occurred to me that we spend a good portion of our lives anxious to settle down with a significant other.  sure, we get an education, accomplish a few goals, and maybe get a job in the mean time.  but i bet for the majority of us, the main objective is to find someone you can sleep next to and wrap your arms around.  and then for some; there is, of course, the option of reproducing.  i mean, having a little steph moran running around- sure, that would be kind of cool i guess.  but after that little steph moran starts her own life, what is there for you to look forward to? -- grand kids?  old age?  false teeth?  retirement in florida,  perhaps the outerbanks?  i bet the last one sounds real tempting. yea, that is when you're suffering from a mid-life crisis or menopause.  all i can say is this looks like it's going to be one hell of a year!  and all i know is i don't want to look forward to all of those insane issues.  no, right now i just want to set my eyes on saturday night.  take care.  i love you.  xox.  &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;fill it out, you know you want to!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01: what is your first memory of me:&lt;br /&gt;02: how long have we been friends:&lt;br /&gt;03: tell about one memory we share together:&lt;br /&gt;04: describe me in four adjectives:&lt;br /&gt;05: if we could spend a day together what would we do:&lt;br /&gt;06: name one thing you really don't like about me:&lt;br /&gt;07: name one thing you really do like about me:&lt;br /&gt;08: if you could give me a gift what would it be:&lt;br /&gt;09: have we ever gotten in a fight &amp; about what:&lt;br /&gt;10: have we ever hugged:&lt;br /&gt;11: have we ever danced with each other:&lt;br /&gt;12: have you ever seen me cry:&lt;br /&gt;13: have i ever offended you:&lt;br /&gt;14: what is something embarrassing that i've done:&lt;br /&gt;15: what do i usually look like when you see me:&lt;br /&gt;16: what do i say all the time\whats my catch phrase:&lt;br /&gt;17: do you think we will be friends in 5 years:&lt;br /&gt;18: do you think i am bitchy:&lt;br /&gt;19: has there been anything you wanted to tell me, but didn't:&lt;br /&gt;20: what advice would you give me, in general:&lt;br /&gt;21: wanna make out:&lt;br /&gt;22: suggest a band / cd for me to listen to:&lt;br /&gt;23: is there a song that reminds you of me:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;if you want me, just say so.&lt;/em&gt;"  -saves the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106134860858495005?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106134860858495005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106134860858495005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106134860858495005' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106118055554286369</id><published>2003-08-17T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-17T22:05:24.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so tonight DA MULV came over.  and it was really nice.  we were scheduled to pass some trash with the family.  however turns out Pretty Woman was on tv.  and well the moran family never passes up an opportunity to watch a Julia Robert's film.  i mean their love for My Best Friend's Wedding is almost equivalent to Adam West's love for taffy!  and well, he is a man who LOVES his taffy!  so basically erin and i just talked all night, or at least a good three hours of it.  nights like this one are what i live for.  i think they're the best.  the best nights and the best conversations.  good times, good times.  anyways, so if anyone feels like going to the beach sometime this week or the next.  please, tell me.  i really want to go.  like seriously.  well take care.  i love you.  xox. &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;[mini update, anyone?]&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  but the way to my heart is through food, jewelry and money. &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  and im not gunna lie &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  specifically food! &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  right.&lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  but for everyone, it's that way &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  i know for me it is, i love food! &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  yeah man &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  however i do really like smart guys &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  bring me a bucket of kfc popcorn chicken and im yours for the night &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  ahaha &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  i like smart guys too &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  a lot &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  smart guys are real attractive. &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  i like an older, smarter guy that will take care of me, teach me, and spend lots of money on me &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  but not when they gloat about it. &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  that is my dream man &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  they have to be sort of modest &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  so basically... my dad but younger and cuter and not so much like.. my dad  &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  ahaha  &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  but really &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  that would be great &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  oh &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  and athletic &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  thatts a bonus   &lt;br /&gt; Hollyhox1113:  specifically if he always said..."Taking Back Sunday...From Autumn to Ashes...and special guest star: STEPHER ON BASS!" &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  lol ahahah NO NO NO  &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  not so much like my dad &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  but like a father type   &lt;br /&gt; xoxerinxo:  i mean i dont want a middle aged MAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;you're so cute when you're frustrated.&lt;/em&gt;"  -interpol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106118055554286369?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106118055554286369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106118055554286369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106118055554286369' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106108681634909073</id><published>2003-08-16T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-16T19:21:06.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>for several days now i've been trying to save my deepest thoughts to the world wide web.  yet, in the words of american nightmare, "writer's block is a bitch."  then again i'm not too sure if writer's block is the cause for the lack of blog entries.  recently i've noticed how hard it is to post when i'm in a good mood.  it's definitely a lot easier to babble when i'm upset.  and well, let's face it- i am just having a really excellent time right now!  a lot has happened.  and it's been absolutely terrific!  ugh...maybe it is writer's block.  i can't help but stare at this screen and not know what to type.  whatever.  i don't even think i want to post this anymore..but i will.  who cares, no one reads this anyways.  come home soon, ok?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;your lips were the softest yet.&lt;/em&gt;"  -american nightmare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106108681634909073?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106108681634909073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106108681634909073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106108681634909073' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106083320224648022</id><published>2003-08-13T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-13T20:58:02.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"&lt;em&gt;she was something... she was something else.&lt;/em&gt;"  -minus the bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106083320224648022?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106083320224648022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106083320224648022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106083320224648022' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106063100164439363</id><published>2003-08-11T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-11T12:43:21.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fill it out, darlings.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ________ Steph!&lt;br /&gt;Steph is ________ !&lt;br /&gt;Steph thinks a lot about ________ !&lt;br /&gt;When I think of ________, I think of Steph!&lt;br /&gt;If I were alone in a room with Steph, I would ________ !&lt;br /&gt;I think Steph should ________ !&lt;br /&gt;I want to ________ Steph!&lt;br /&gt;If I could describe Steph in a word it would be: ________ !&lt;br /&gt;I want Steph to ________ and ________ !&lt;br /&gt;Steph has to ________ !&lt;br /&gt;If ________ was in Steph's life, he/she/it would ________ !&lt;br /&gt;I think Steph can ________ !&lt;br /&gt;Steph ________ me! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;leave the responses in a comment or e-mail me, pals.  hollyhox1113@aol.com  xox. &lt;33&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;shake it all, baby.&lt;/em&gt;"  -the beatles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106063100164439363?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106063100164439363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106063100164439363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106063100164439363' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106057329741124273</id><published>2003-08-10T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-10T20:41:37.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so this passed week i spent a few days at my sister's house in reading, pennsylvania.  i got there around 12:30 AM wednesday morning.  as i was lying in drew's bed staring at the ceiling, i heard he and my sister talking.  apparently, they were just lying in her bed, talking for hours.  that's what i call love, and that's my definition for the word beautiful.  my goal in life is to find someone that i can lie with and talk to till 3 AM.  of course, i'm only sixteen.  so i definitely have enough time to search!  until then, i'll just relax and enjoy whatever's going for me right now.  let's face it, it's nice.  on another note: i really, really hope drew gets better.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;what's this?  a survey?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x. name = steph moran.&lt;br /&gt;x. birthday = june fourth.&lt;br /&gt;x. piercings = my ears.&lt;br /&gt;x. hair color = it's blonde, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;x. length = pretty short, it's grown though.  i need to get it cut.&lt;br /&gt;x. siblings = yea, two of them.&lt;br /&gt;x. pets = simon.&lt;br /&gt;last...&lt;br /&gt;x. movie you rented = the life of david gale.&lt;br /&gt;x. movie you bought = about a boy. that was quite the while ago, and i didn't even buy it for myself.&lt;br /&gt;x. song you listened to = saves the day- jodie.&lt;br /&gt;x. song that was stuck in your head = minus the bear- lemurs, man, lemurs.&lt;br /&gt;x. song you've downloaded = hmm..i'm not too sure what the last one was.&lt;br /&gt;x. CD you bought = can't even remember.&lt;br /&gt;x. CD you listened to = BBQ  number 2.  it's an AWESOME mix that erin made.  man, i love it way too much.&lt;br /&gt;x. person you've called = jen.&lt;br /&gt;x. person that's called you = steve.&lt;br /&gt;x. TV show you've watched = the dead zone.  well, i only watched a quarter of it.&lt;br /&gt;x. you wish you could live somewhere else = boston.&lt;br /&gt;x. you think about suicide = not really.&lt;br /&gt;x. you believe in online dating = no.  well, i mean you can date someone and talk to them online.&lt;br /&gt;x. others find you attractive = maybe they should answer this one.  but my guess is no.&lt;br /&gt;x. you want more piercings =  no.&lt;br /&gt;x. you want more tattoos = i don't even have one.  and i probably won't get one.  they're not for me.  however, arm sleeve tattoos on guys are really hot.&lt;br /&gt;x. you drink = i have.&lt;br /&gt;x. you do drugs = i don't know what you would consider drugs.  but no.  not currently.&lt;br /&gt;x. you smoke = what?  either way, no. not right now.&lt;br /&gt;x. you like cleaning = definitely not.&lt;br /&gt;x. you like roller coasters = no, motion sickness comes too easily to me.&lt;br /&gt;x. you write in cursive or print = both.&lt;br /&gt;x. you carry a donor card = nope.&lt;br /&gt;for or against&lt;br /&gt;x. using someone = i don't favor it.&lt;br /&gt;x. suicide = it's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;x. killing people = against.&lt;br /&gt;x. teenage smoking = indifferent about this subject.&lt;br /&gt;x. doing drugs = once again indifferent.&lt;br /&gt;x. premarital sex = i'm for it.&lt;br /&gt;x. driving drunk = nah.&lt;br /&gt;x. gay/lesbian relationships = yes.&lt;br /&gt;x. soap operas = i don't really watch them, so it doesn't bother me.&lt;br /&gt;favorite...&lt;br /&gt;x. food = hmm..french fries.&lt;br /&gt;x. song = america-  sister golden hair.&lt;br /&gt;x. thing to do = have really nice conversations.&lt;br /&gt;x. thing to talk about = whatever comes to mind&lt;br /&gt;x. sports = umm..there's softball.  but is it really my favorite?&lt;br /&gt;x. drinks = coke.&lt;br /&gt;x. clothes = i'm a big fan of my jean jacket.&lt;br /&gt;x. movie = umm..american beauty.&lt;br /&gt;x. actor = kevin spacey.&lt;br /&gt;x. actress = thora birch is a good one.&lt;br /&gt;x. band = blah blah.  american nightmare or bright eyes.&lt;br /&gt;x. holiday = christmas?&lt;br /&gt;x. cars = rather indifferent on this subject.&lt;br /&gt;have you...&lt;br /&gt;x. ever cried over a guy = yea, i'm pretty pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;x. ever lied to someone = who hasn't?&lt;br /&gt;x. ever been in a fist fight = nope.&lt;br /&gt;x. ever been arrested = nah.&lt;br /&gt;what...&lt;br /&gt;x. shampoo do you use = suave&lt;br /&gt;x. perfume do you use = i wear different things, it depends on the mood.&lt;br /&gt;x. shoes do you wear = converse/skechers.&lt;br /&gt;x. are you scared of = spiders.&lt;br /&gt;number...&lt;br /&gt;x. of times I have been in love?  have i ever?&lt;br /&gt;x. of times I have had my heart broken? none.&lt;br /&gt;x. of hearts I have broken? = one, maybe? &lt;br /&gt;x. of guys I have kissed? = not sure.  perhaps 7.  &lt;br /&gt;x. of girls I have kissed? = there are way too many.&lt;br /&gt;x. of men I've slept with? = 110. well, no.  but there are a few.  you haven't slept next to a member of the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;x. of girls I've slept with? = i've had plenty of sleepovers.&lt;br /&gt;x. of continents I have lived in? = unus, a, um.&lt;br /&gt;x. of drugs taken illegally? = unus, a, um.&lt;br /&gt;x. of people I would classify as true, could trust with my life type friends? = 6&lt;br /&gt;x. of people I consider my enemies? = i don't think i have any enemies.  there are a few people i don't like.  but i'm not waging war here, folks.&lt;br /&gt;x. of people from high school that I stayed in contact with?= i'm still in high school, pal.&lt;br /&gt;x. of CDs' that I own? = quite the few.&lt;br /&gt;x. of times my name has appeared in the newspaper? = twice.&lt;br /&gt;x. of scars on my body? = one.&lt;br /&gt;x. of things in my past that I regret? = none.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;after the movies.  in the parking lot, we stared so long.  and you kissed me with ripe, young breath.  and i kissed you.  one night as forever.  in the movies.  well, they never had it so good.  one moment, so infinite.  on soft wet lips&lt;/em&gt;."  -cursive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106057329741124273?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106057329741124273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106057329741124273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106057329741124273' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106040707822853148</id><published>2003-08-08T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-08T22:31:18.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so was Big Steph's BBQ a success?  i'd like to think so.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;roll one for me.&lt;/em&gt;"  -minus the bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106040707822853148?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106040707822853148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106040707822853148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106040707822853148' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-106005679431616748</id><published>2003-08-04T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-04T21:21:16.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i truly believe now is the most appropriate time for me to tell you all..and so:  this friday evening (august 8th) Big Steph's BBQ "version 2 point oh" will take place!  now, i know those of you who attended Big Steph's BBQ on july 4th are most likely expecting a lot from me this time.  now, i can't guarantee this BBQ will surpass the glory of the last one.  after all, we DID play lawn darts, get into a fight with a little boy, play ultimate frisbee, AND fit like 8 people into one car.  hey!  we even made a sorry attempt at a game of trivial pursuit!  however, i must warn you, i just MIGHT have found a way to top the last BBQ!  thus i would like to inform you about the &lt;strong&gt;PASS THE TRASH TOURNAMENT!!!&lt;/strong&gt;  everyone is asked to bring three dollars with them to the party for a nice friendly game of "PTT"  if a lot of people show up the jack pot will be HUGE.  yes, my fellow friends, we will be gambling at our tender ages!  hmm..we'll also play lawn darts, frisbee, dance, and lots of other cool things!  as for food: hamburgers, hot dogs, macaroni salad, cole slaw, ally shwed's really good cookies(eh whadaya say ally?), rice krispy treats.  oh right, and for the herbivores!  there will be veggie burgers.  and for those who like BBQ chicken, yea, chicken will be served too.  i hope to see you all there.  i'll be sending out an e-mail with further details.  c'mon, guys, it'll be fun!  i hope...  take care!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;know what i think?  my opninion:  it's better to break a man's leg, than break his heart.&lt;/em&gt;"  -seabiscuit.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;well..i mean, seabiscuit didn't say it..because he's a horse.  but it's in the movie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-106005679431616748?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106005679431616748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/106005679431616748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106005679431616748' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105996875473297283</id><published>2003-08-03T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-03T20:45:54.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tonight for some odd reason i was compelled to listen to a new found glory's "Nothing Gold Can Stay" album.  why?  you might ask.. well, i'm really not sure.  but anyways, on my way home from dropping erin off i listened to the song 3rd and Long.  and i must say, no matter how horrible they've become i LOVE that song.  and so, i listened to it another two times!  i realized that that was the very first a new found glory song i had ever heard.  haha, it reminded me of mike labua...in fact it reminded me of like all of my grammar school days.  but hmm..mike labua.  jeez, i had such a crush on him!  i suppose i could call him the "one that got away."  ha, more like the "one steph moran could never have 'cause she was too ugly and such a doofus."  i guess tonight made me notice how much i've actually changed.  true, i still am a doofus, yet i'm not that ugly anymore.  i suppose i've grown up.  i'm no longer THAT timid, and i'm certainly willing to tell a person how i feel.  i'm also willing to go after the gentlemen now!  in some cases, i succeed.  i don't think i can complain right now.  this summer has been nice.  i've had long nights, but not really any hard times.  so every thing is wonderful.  it's a shame it'll probably be over soon, with the summer ending and all.  well, whatever.  for right now, i'll just lie back and enjoy it all.  ok that's it for now.  xox. &lt;33.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;i'm the hero of the year.&lt;/em&gt;"  -a new found glory&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105996875473297283?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105996875473297283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105996875473297283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#105996875473297283' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105977090766917007</id><published>2003-08-01T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-01T14:09:13.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src= "http://pic3.picturetrail.com/VOL19/1333966/inbox/52.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src= "http://pic3.picturetrail.com/VOL19/1333966/inbox/15442.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;why should i play the fall guy to your love?&lt;/em&gt;"  -cursive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105977090766917007?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105977090766917007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105977090766917007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#105977090766917007' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105970821727014291</id><published>2003-07-31T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-31T21:10:17.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Central Jersey Cyclones' Softball Camp.  event: Coaches Challenge.  person/time to beat:  Amy-Kate Byrne, 16 seconds.  there i was:  at least a good 15 seconds into the challenge, fielding my way to victory... when all of the sudden i heard a voice calling, "stop, stop!  i forgot to start the clock!"  apparently Courtney was not ready to begin, yet i had been on a roll.  i could have been called butter.  finally when she was actually ready to start i was too exhausted or perhaps fed up with the challenge that i bobbled the first ball aimed at me and was out of it within 1 second.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;i wonder if this could be applied to my life...perhaps a bit of foreshadowing of what the next few weeks hold?  or maybe it was some omen proving it's best that i'm retiring the old softball glove?  of course, it could have always just been an event showing that "Little Cuevas" should no longer be allowed to use a stop watch?  oh well.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;if it's not keeping you up nights, then what's the point?&lt;/em&gt;"  -taking back sunday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105970821727014291?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105970821727014291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105970821727014291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105970821727014291' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105953809198625060</id><published>2003-07-29T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-29T21:08:12.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well, i suppose after a day of working at a softball clinic, getting sick, falling asleep in a hallway, going home only to vomit another 5 times, not having anyone to bring me chicken noodle soup, hanging out with DA MULV, and watching Rebel Without a Cause, sleep is needed.  and so goodnight, guys.  if you'd like to hang out tomorrow night please, don't hesitate to call me.  i'm sure i'd love to hear from you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;it's the best i've got to get your attention.  i could never get your attention.  i could never please you.&lt;/em&gt;"  -cursive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105953809198625060?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105953809198625060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105953809198625060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105953809198625060' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105933843856355209</id><published>2003-07-27T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-27T13:40:38.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"listen here, Steph, by age 57 you won't even remember that mistake.  and if that's the worst possible thing that ever happens in your life, let me tell you, you're going to have a wonderful, beautiful life."  -Mr. Lavin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105933843856355209?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105933843856355209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105933843856355209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105933843856355209' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105906473116259296</id><published>2003-07-24T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-24T09:38:51.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this speech is without a doubt going to be the end of me.  not only do i have to have it done by tomorrow(which mind you, i haven't even started it), but apparently it has to be five to ten minutes long.  for those of you who know me, you know i can barely talk for a minute without feeling stupid or embarrassing myself.  anyways, in between thinking of ideas for this exciting address i'll be making i also have to shop for a cocktail dress for this big event, find some romance(or at least someone willing to accompany me), take a drug test, and find something to do tonight!  the logical thing would be to sit down and write the speech this evening, but that will only lead to me driving myself insane.  i mean, how do i put my feelings into words about this girl?  she's one of my best friends.  and the feelings, they're there.  but sometimes feelings aren't to be shared.  usually i listen to certain songs to serve as direction for my writing.  right now i find myself listening to Sister Golden Hair by America, Whatever It Takes by Fairweather, and The Calendar Hung Itself by Bright Eyes non-stop.  so what does this mean?  does this mean i write a speech on the fact that summer is the "season to break me," or do i randomly burst out into song and dance with "you are my sunshine, my only sunshine"?  there's an endless list of possibilities i suppose.  i think i might have an approach, at least to my intro anyways.  but how long can an introduction possibly last?  especially when i mumble and speak really fast?  a good twenty seconds i'd say.  any of my friends who actually show potential when it comes to writing(unlike yours truly) want to help me out here?  i don't know.  give me a few pointers, maybe a few witty lines, perhaps write the entire speech for me?  think about it.  get back to me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;i 'shouldn't call you dear.'  that's a good one.  the best and worst secret you've ever yelled at me.  oh yea.&lt;/em&gt;"  -piebald.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105906473116259296?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105906473116259296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105906473116259296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105906473116259296' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105880847922379023</id><published>2003-07-21T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-21T10:37:54.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>if there's one thing i remember from Drama 1 of my sophomore year(i know i make it sound like it was so long ago) it's that a sitcom is a series television show in which the characters's true selves are revealed through their reactions to certain situations.  i've come to realize that my life is certainly like a situation comedy.  however it's more like a sitdram.  yet it does have its light moments.  my friends, the characters in my little series, all have different reactions.  for example, you could kiss a friend, and you'd either get kissed back or completely ignored.  as the director of the Steph Moran show, you think i'd be able to control the characters's responses, right?  but i can't.  and so i guess that brings me to my next little segment of this completely pointless entry.  not only is my life like a tv series but it is also like a game.  you can make a move in life.  yet, you can't control your opponent's move.  in conclusion, i suppose my life is a mini-series about a soccer team going for the world cup.  on their way they have a few rough games, some division of team players, and some romance.  i guess all that's left is to see whether they'll win or lose.  so i guess if you'd like, you could stay tuned.  one channel, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;it's a possibility i'm just writing all of this to put off that speech i have to write and that date i have to find by sunday.  any takers who are actually willing to sit by me and admit to being my date after i make a horrible speech?  get back to me on that one.  but if you're willing i advise you tell me fast.  i am QUITE the gal.  and several guys would be looking forward to this date. (..yea, if only.)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;if you drop by to see me again.  i'll open up the door.  get down to all that matters now, which is getting down once more.&lt;/em&gt;"  -ozma. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105880847922379023?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105880847922379023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105880847922379023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105880847922379023' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5597977.post-105873367463934444</id><published>2003-07-20T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-20T13:41:14.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>not only has she returned from North Carolina, but she is also back on blogspot!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;em&gt;will you meet me in the middle?  will you meet me in the end?  will you love me just a little?  ...just enough to show you care.&lt;/em&gt;"  -america&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5597977-105873367463934444?l=shakeyourhips.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105873367463934444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5597977/posts/default/105873367463934444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shakeyourhips.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105873367463934444' title=''/><author><name>Steph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15460269112155759960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
