<?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-6619326614174816176</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:25:32.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality is Running Away</title><subtitle type='html'>Reality is Running Away is my blog where I will post my writing and rant (about life, politics, and music).</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>114</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7133323099178425628</id><published>2008-08-28T20:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T20:19:26.871-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Secret...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I still like embarrassing music.  This was proven yesterday when one of my good friends encouraged me to buy a CD when we were at Bull Moose, since I had said that I liked it.  I am listening to said CD right now and totally singing along &lt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;ARGH!!!  I WROTE SO MUCH AND IT DISAPPEARED!  I AM NOT WRITING IT ALL OVER AGAIN....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7133323099178425628?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7133323099178425628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7133323099178425628' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7133323099178425628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7133323099178425628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/08/secret.html' title='A Secret...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2249589049403572273</id><published>2008-08-13T22:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T22:24:03.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm a Spaz (&lt;3)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Yeahh basically.  I've been SOO busy lately it's insane.  Thus why I haven't updated here for awhile (my other reason for not updating is...you guessed it...because I'm a spaz).  So yeah first I was a CIT at a camp (=DEATH).  Though some of the guys there were really nice and we stay in touch, but otherwise, yeah, not so fun.  And then my grandpa was in the hospital for two and a half weeks with heart surgery (don't worry, he's at home and getting better every day now).  So because of that I basically canceled my social life and was at the hospital/with my grandma like every day.  And then I went on vacation to DC/NYC.  And now I'm back and like in over my head with social plans.  Like, I have to be somewhere or whatever like every day this coming week.   Not to mention I'm canceling on one of my friends tomorrow because I need to hang out with some of my other friends as sort of a going-away-thing for a friend that's going to boarding school (I'm going to miss her like hell).  Today I hung out with one of my closest guy friends and we, being the spazzes that we are, watched like two episodes of Drake and Josh, and played the most pitiful game of basketball (PIG) ever.  And then we sunbathed.  And ran away from a garden snake (he RAN I walked very quickly).  Good times....   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2249589049403572273?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2249589049403572273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2249589049403572273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2249589049403572273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2249589049403572273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/08/because-im-spaz-3.html' title='Because I&apos;m a Spaz (&lt;3)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1949983723738233260</id><published>2008-07-20T20:54:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:14:36.631-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeahh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've been told that I need to update my blog, so I am now updating it.  So much has happened since the last time I updated my blog.  I got an iPod video; I'm a week away from finishing my job; I'm making a hardcore Hellboy mask in one of the classes I help out with; I've watched an insane number of chick flicks with guy friends (Legally Blonde, Legally Blonde II, Last Holiday); I've gone to PortCon with two friends; I've gotten addicted to various podcasts; I'm planning for my trip to NYC and DC; I've made new friends at my camp (even though I don't really like the camp at all); I've organized a picnic that was a huge success (14 people and an insane amount of food); I've gotten my belated birthday present from a friend whose original present was stolen by a music and money loving seagull; I've decided that I'm getting my hair cut short-enough-to-spike in the back (and regular bang-length in the front); I've accepted a challenge that involves making a list of 100 recommended books and then reading them; I'm teaching myself Japanese; I'm planning on going to a concert with Staind, Three Doors Down, and Hinder with a good guy friend and maybe one of my girl friends; I've cried at the ending of one book and one movie (I blame it on camp making me emotionally unstable), and so many other things....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1949983723738233260?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1949983723738233260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1949983723738233260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1949983723738233260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1949983723738233260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/07/yeahh.html' title='Yeahh'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5851892468847564594</id><published>2008-07-01T20:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T21:06:10.462-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Then.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I'm still sick.  I actually had to stay home from work, because I was coughing rather nastily this morning and was having trouble breathing.  So I spent the lovely day drained of energy, coughing and resting on the couch, while watching whatever good was on TV (mostly just Queer Eye for the Straight Guy re-runs on Bravo).  And this evening I bothered to turn on my computer to talk to people on AIM for a few minutes and check my mail.  Of course, like always, there's the latest drama and such that would usually demand me spending a good deal of time over-analyzing something.  Only, cold meds make my brain foggy, so I as a general rule of thumb avoid saying or doing anything that I might possibly regret while under the influence of the aforementioned meds.  So, the usually swearing and such is out of the question.  I think I will just sit here and decide whether or not I want to go to PortCon all four days, and whether I should humiliate myself by going with three or so equally geeky friends.  One of the new events this year is dance lessons and then a ballroom dance.  It sounds like so much fun, but I'm debating if it's worth the humiliation.  It would be lovely though-- like a masked ball, since most everyone will be in cosplay.  Speaking of which, I don't know who I want to dress up as.  Last year I did the Nana/Misa thing, but I don't know...Call me foolish, but I almost want to choose a scantily clad character (like Misa), as opposed to Haruhi, or one of the cool female characters.  Because, Haruhi and all characters like her wear suits.  And it's summer.  So I'm leaning towards the skanky mini-skirt-wearing Misa, just for the sake of comfort.  I'll ask my friends....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5851892468847564594?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5851892468847564594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5851892468847564594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5851892468847564594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5851892468847564594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/07/well-then.html' title='Well Then.'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6539703083415759927</id><published>2008-06-30T18:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T18:06:39.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Do you ever have one of those days where you come dangerously close to totally snapping on someone and yell at them and say about a thousand things that you shouldn't say to them?  Has it ever happened with about three people in one day?  Yah well...*holds fingers close together* this close, this close.  Blahh and to top it off I'm still sick.  And now me and all of my friends are moderately mature and we're almost all working and none of our schedules match up.  And when they do match up (like last Wednesday) and I went to the movies with one of my friends I was so out of it from work, when I was buying my ticket I forgot what movie I was going to see. and I had to ask him!  Talk about embarrassing.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6539703083415759927?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6539703083415759927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6539703083415759927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6539703083415759927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6539703083415759927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/bad-day.html' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8852791749400355680</id><published>2008-06-28T18:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T18:16:11.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleh.  Meh.  Sick.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, it's my first day off and I'm sick.  Yucky.  My throat feels like I swallowed sandpaper in my sleep.  Seriously.  And I have the chills so I have goosebumps and I'm all shivery.  And I babysit for four hours tonight, because I agreed this morning before I was really sick (or rather, before I admitted I was sick).  Grosssss.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8852791749400355680?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8852791749400355680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8852791749400355680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8852791749400355680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8852791749400355680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/bleh-meh-sick.html' title='Bleh.  Meh.  Sick.'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5344938090830834462</id><published>2008-06-26T23:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T23:46:49.718-04:00</updated><title type='text'>W.T.F.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I just has quite possibly the most awkward conversation on AIM ever.  This guy from the alternative high school in my city added me on Facebook, and sent me a message saying hi and whatever.  An acquaintance of mine from the school vouched for the guy, so when he IMed me I responded and we were having a perfectly cordial conversation...until he asked if I roleplayed.  I said yes, sometimes I did (we were talking about manga at the time, and I assumed he was talking about manga RPing, until he clarified he wasn't).  Essentially, he ended up asking me if I cybered.  Of course, I responded that I didn't (EW...stranger...NO).  And then he asked why and I explained why (hadn't even experienced such activities in real life, I didn't intend to soon, online and not in person=weird, I'm a prude, etc, etc.)  And yeah so he told me more awkward stuff and was like 'good for you you're a virgin-- I'm not', etc, etc.  And I was like 'why are you telling me this you don't even know me'.  And he's like 'you're nice and you're cute'.  And it continued to be awkward until I 'signed off' (I went invisible).  So yes I'm still freaked out and in 'EWW YUCKY' mode.   I am so mad at the acquaintance that said cybering boy was an 'alright guy'.  EW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5344938090830834462?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5344938090830834462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5344938090830834462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5344938090830834462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5344938090830834462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/wtf.html' title='W.T.F.'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1076134537704803421</id><published>2008-06-20T23:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T23:34:48.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Inner Child, and School's Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, school was done on Tuesday.  I actually ended up being quite happy with my grades, and that was because I made sure I got an A in Gym.  In the end it ended up being surprisingly easy.  It wasn't about trying harder, showing effort, talking to him about my grade and how to improve it, or being on time for class.  In the end it was all about going into his office on the last day of school and NOT LEAVING until he said he'd change it.  He sent teachers and students that wanted to talk to him away because I was just standing there, waiting for him to actually listen to me.  I had to keep telling myself over and over again, "This is the last time he'll ever be my teacher; it's ok if I annoy him-- I won't have to talk to him ever again."  With this thought in mind, I stayed in his office while he took phone calls, did email, for over five minutes.  Finally, he just looked up and said, "Alright, I'll fix your grade and give you an A."  If I'd known that the A would only require five minutes of bitchiness, I would have tried it months earlier.  But it all ended up good-- I got a 93 (instead of a 88) in Gym for quarter four.  And, to date, I still have never gotten a B on a report card.  Yay!  I was so happy like dancing and giggling and such when I checked my grades on my computer.  And yah, I deserved that A.  I have a job at a creative arts camp.  Today was set-up for the camp, which was really hard work.  It involved carrying many tables and chairs from building to building (not fun).  After that, I went with two my friends to a cafe downtown and met with an acquaintance from 8th grades little brother, and his friend, to work on script writing and filming.  It was only an hour-long meeting, but in that period the boy was so condescending and authoritative that I found myself asking this 11 year old if I had permission to speak.  My friends were laughing their asses off at me, it was mildly embarrassing.  But, as they put he, "He totally owned you."  He really did.  He managed to make me feel like a five year old seeking approval to do a project from a student at a fancy art college, instead of a 9th grader including a 6th grader in a project.  And he actually had the nerve to tell me to shut up, explaining, "You can speak, but you can't gab.  You are gabbing.  Stop."  I mean, I generally think that I'm a person with decent intellect, but I have to be totally with it to even attempt to keep up with this boy.  It's terrifying.  Perhaps I am a glutton for public humiliation, but I agreed to another meeting, this coming Wednesday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1076134537704803421?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1076134537704803421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1076134537704803421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1076134537704803421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1076134537704803421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/inner-child-and-schools-out.html' title='Inner Child, and School&apos;s Out'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2337431111425736441</id><published>2008-06-09T15:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T15:31:09.748-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Today is my birthday.  It is quite hot out, and humid, too.  My arms are sticking to the table it's so sticky outside.  I'm tired because I stayed up very late last night, and then got up early to finish my creative writing final.  I'm really happy with the final product, but I got less than four hours of sleep, and that's not that good.  I got a lot of great gifts.  I am writing like a sixth grader right now I'm so tired, but I don't really care all that much.  James dug his nails into my hand and it still freaking hurts.  My friend Nick was super nice and he's leant me his signed copy of the new Pendragon book.  I've known him since elementary school-- he's nice.  I'm listening to Dashboard Confessional and Juno.  I want to go shopping!  I'm babysitting tonight.  My party was really fun-- even my friends that I invited that hate each other managed to be civil to each other.. But yes, I had a blast!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2337431111425736441?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2337431111425736441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2337431111425736441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2337431111425736441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2337431111425736441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/birthday.html' title='Birthday!'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6724297069404907261</id><published>2008-06-03T15:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T23:35:22.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Since I have been super busy I haven't had time to write a blog post.  That said, I'm just going to post some of my poetry I wrote for class, instead:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;"Room"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Pairs of threadbare jeans sprawl on my chairs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;On my floor as though they're tanning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Plastic trophies for pointless endeavors,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;They collect dust and horde nostalgia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Rejected pop CDs hide, unnoticed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Gathering dust in the wooden crate in the corner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Hillary Duff and Shakira sulk, at the bottom of the stack,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;While an alternative rock mix perches at the top/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;The room smells of fruity perfume--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;I spilled the cheap bottle two weeks ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;My closet door is covered with cartoons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Drawn by friends, drifted away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;An earnest letter received claims the nightstand;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Unfolded and reread many times, the pencil is faded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Gum wrappers that crinkle, pens without ink,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Tea from yesterday-- now cold, a dropped pushpin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;The clutter is a layered timeline;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;The new smothers the old, but it's all still there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Last year's diary, a broken necklace in a drawer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;A story told by a room in disarray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6724297069404907261?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6724297069404907261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6724297069404907261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6724297069404907261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6724297069404907261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/06/some-poetry.html' title='Some Poetry'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2862678365757616984</id><published>2008-05-19T17:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T17:11:58.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought Vomit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I am having blog issues.  Don't know what's going on.  Grr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2862678365757616984?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2862678365757616984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2862678365757616984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2862678365757616984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2862678365757616984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/05/thought-vomit_19.html' title='Thought Vomit'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5550294198242332387</id><published>2008-05-09T20:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T20:53:19.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The List</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I have a list of things I intend to do before I graduate.  It was first Bauer's idea at the very beginning of this year, freshman year.  I like the idea, so I stole it and made a list of my own.  One by one I'm crossing off some of the things off of my list.  Now, I'm not about to post the entire list here because it's MY list and no one has read it.  It's like my goals and stupid things I want to do, you know?  So yes, I'm crossed off some items this year.  For one, I have talked about myself in third person for an entire day (now I just have to talk in French for an entire day-- still not fluent enough to do this).  I've stayed up all night (on a school night).  I've watched movies (Bauer's birthday) for 24 hours straight (that was hard).  What haven't I done?  I haven't bought or tried on anything at A&amp;amp;F (I can't believe I put this on the list).  I haven't dyed my hair a CRAZY color (what color should I go with?).  I haven't started a band (kind of given up on this one).  I haven't finished knitting that tank top I've been working on since 7th grade.  I haven't done a lot of things (those are the meaningless random ones, there are actually ones with a point on there too).  I'm TRYING to learn Japanese (it's really really hard, but I'm getting there, one hiragana at a time).  One way that I'm tracking some of my goals is on www.43things.com.  That isn't my list, however.  It's more just ways that I want to live my life   (long term).  For example, getting published (a poem in Creative Kids doesn't count haha), being happy, and telling the truth are long term things.  Like, more of life goals than high school ones.  So, what's on your list?  If you make one comment with some of the items on it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5550294198242332387?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5550294198242332387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5550294198242332387' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5550294198242332387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5550294198242332387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/05/list.html' title='The List'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8503311517865724692</id><published>2008-05-01T19:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T20:03:05.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Schools</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Argh I'm in a really bad mood today.  Like, for so many reasons.  It's like lots of little stuff.  One of my friends is going to the school I transferred from.  Another is going to a boarding school.  My three other friends from middle school that go to my high school all want to go to this private school.  It seems like everyone is leaving my school.  Ironically, it was the school I went to (partially) because the majority of my friends were going there.  Now they're all like 'we want to leave because we hate this school'.  Great.  Just great.  I like it as a school.  I wish they'd realize it's not as bad as they think it is.  It's high school.  Dammit.  Not to mention the fact that I found out the results of a writing contest to be published that my friend and I had submitted to today.  Neither of us won.  I really hate rejection.  And like I just want there to be less drama.  Like my close girl friends can stand my close guy friends.  And sometimes vice versa.  Can't they all just suck it up and be civil?  I'm sick having friends going 'DON'T invite him he's so annoying' or 'DON'T invite her she's a bitch'.  Like I don't even know.  And I'm ranting.  And in the background my brother is practicing a skit really loudly.  I'm missing a sock.  My foot is thus cold.  I feel soooo meh.  Don't even ask what meh is.  I don't know.  And I was like smiling when I was walking home, right?  And this bitch that was in my class in elementary school was sitting on her front steps.  And she sees me and is like, "What are YOU smiling about?"  I almost said something along the lines of, "Because I don't have any STDS, I can smile WITHOUT blowing all my money on drugs, and I've never been arrested."  But I didn't.  I just gave her the nastiest look I could WHILE still smiling.  It was like scary clown look.  My day has gone progressively downhill.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/6619326614174816176-8503311517865724692?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8503311517865724692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8503311517865724692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8503311517865724692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8503311517865724692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/05/stupid-schools.html' title='Stupid Schools'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5142065806354787987</id><published>2008-04-28T17:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T19:31:46.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Orange Tic Tacs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I'm watching Rent on YouTube (just "La Vie Boheme" and "Take Me or Leave Me"...maybe "Light My Candle", too).  They are all such good songs...I watched Rent for the first time at a sleepover party at the beginning of the school year when I was forced to watch both Mean Girls and Rent.  I'm so glad I saw both of them (what's better than having your friends force you to go to a sleep over because they think you need to get your mind off things and then being forced to watch movies?  Haha).  On Saturday night I saw Juno and Sweeney Todd with two of my friends.  Originally we were going to just watch and go home, but we weren't done until past midnight so it became a sleepover.  I love Juno--  it's one of my favorite new movies, so cute.   My favorite part is when they sing "Anyone Else but You" at the end ("We sure are cute/for two ugly people".)   Also, I love when she gives him all the orange TicTacs in his mailbox...he opens it and they all come pouring out.  I mean, it was the weirdest and most romantic thing ever...I mean, TicTacs?  Haha.  And then we watched Sweeney Todd, which is just a really weird movie.  The singing was good, though.  I didn't like all the blood because I'm a wuss like that...nevermind that it looked super fake,  blood and gore is NOT my thing.  I've only seen two horror movies and neither was my idea to watch it...The Grudge II and Halloween.  I didn't like either (at least neither one was scary).  Sweeney Todd wasn't scary, just super sickkkk and demented.  I'm singing now along with Rent...so good!!  Only, as my friend puts it I'm the 'tone deaf queen', which I totally am.  I love music, though.  The movie Made of Honor looks halfway decent (I was just watching trailers).  It does look super cliche, but hey most romantic comedies are it's what people want-- predictable and happy.  Like ice cream.  The Visitor looks good, too.  Plus Smart People (but that's rated R so I'll just wait until it's on DVD to watch it with people-- the teens that work at Jet Video know us so they let friends and I rent the R stuff sometimes :p).  Yay for movies and music!              &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5142065806354787987?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5142065806354787987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5142065806354787987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5142065806354787987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5142065806354787987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/04/orange-tic-tacs.html' title='Orange Tic Tacs'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-9060378326409972198</id><published>2008-04-23T17:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T17:32:49.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunburns, Shopping, and Sleepiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, this week is vacation week.  I was in Boston from Friday to Sunday, which was really fun, especially considering I hadn't been out of state in months.  I shopped quite a bit, getting makeup at Sephora and clothes at H&amp;amp;M.  Then, on Sunday I went to a Red Sox game-- they won, and it was interesting to watch (though I despise football, I really like watching baseball).  Today I got a group of friends together and we hung out in Deering Oaks.  I got a really really bad sunburn.  It was one of those things where you don't realize exactly how bad and red it is until you get home (ouchhhh).  Then three people left and me and two friends went to Rosemont and one of the friends house's.  That was fun, too.  Now I'm super tired (all that walking!  haha).  I really want to see Sweeney Todd with one of my friends (maybe some other people too, who knows-- the more the merrier).  But yeah, now my mom is asking me to cut the pineapple because somehow I'm always the one stuck cutting up the obnoxiously large fruits....post more later, if I'm not too lazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-9060378326409972198?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/9060378326409972198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=9060378326409972198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9060378326409972198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9060378326409972198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/04/sunburns-shopping-and-sleepiness.html' title='Sunburns, Shopping, and Sleepiness'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6533451123739395174</id><published>2008-04-16T21:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T22:12:47.254-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Go Fly A Kite!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So yeah today a group of like 6 friends and me went and flew kites in the sports field in back of our school.  It was sooo much fun and we got lots of weird looks.  I ended up getting a kite stuck in a tree and it wouldn't come down, but we'll get it down eventually (I hope).  We decided to start a kite flying club and actually get together and fly kites on an almost weekly basis.  Because, who doesn't like flying kites (well, lots of people, but that's BESIDE THE POINT haha)?  Well I'm basically procrastinating because I have lots of French homework to do.  I'm going to Boston on Friday until Sunday and I'm going to see a Red Sox game, so I'm pretty excited about that.  Drama is over and oddly enough I miss it...there are sooo many people I don't see outside of drama that like I don't have classes with and stuff; it's kinda sad.  It's like I WANT ANOTHER PLAY...but whatever.  I'm excited to see the King play tomorrow night; it should be pretty good.  It is sooo nice outside lately it makes me want to skip and such.  On an entirely random note I find it amusing how many people choose to have me be the sole person they unburden their trouble upon.  I'm like the secret keeper of so many people right now it's not even funny.  I mean, I'm trustworthy about stuff that matters, but it just really sunk in today when I had three different guy friends all telling me their problems and asking advice at the exact same time (and they wondered why I took such a long time to reply...haha).  Unlike Peter Pettigrew, I can actually keep secrets ;).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6533451123739395174?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6533451123739395174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6533451123739395174' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6533451123739395174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6533451123739395174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/04/lets-go-fly-kite.html' title='Let&apos;s Go Fly A Kite!'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5218662968396036772</id><published>2008-04-12T13:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T13:44:10.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuffff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So I haven't updated in a while.  Wow, like I always start my posts with that sentence, or some variation.  But I really have been busy.  I was looking at my blog entry from exactly a year ago and it was in the middle of performances then, too.  Only, the major difference (one of the many, I suppose) is that it's sunny, not snowing, today!  Am I honestly talking about the weather in my blog?  That's kinda sad.  Anyhoo, I've been having fun as a techie for Grease.  Oh, and yesterday I saw the new Office episode with like four of my friends at a friend's house before the show.  That was pretty fantastic.  Then, one of my friends started a talk show like commentary on my life calling for help from the 'audience' (the three other friends).  It was pretty hilarious, kinda annoying.  As odd as it is, I've been listening to lots of music by Jordin Sparks lately-- she has such a gorgeous voice.  I especially love the songs "Tattoo" and "No Air" (with Chris Brown-- he has such a sweet voice).  This led me to listen to Chris Brown music (a HUGE departure from the alternative stuff I listen to).  So, I like the song "With You" by Chris Brown, too, and I'm exploring the other music he sings, too.  My taste in music changes and expands on recommendations by friends.  That's what happened with this; I was bugged to listen to "No Air" because my friend wanted my opinion on if he could pull off singing the male part of the song.  Then, I was hooked.  I think I might have slightly offended my friend when I went, "Wow, this is actually good!" with such surprise...haha.  I haven't had coffee in ages, and I'm tired so I think I might just walk to The Udder Place or Dunkin Donuts and get some.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5218662968396036772?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5218662968396036772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5218662968396036772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5218662968396036772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5218662968396036772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/04/stuffff.html' title='Stuffff'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6615186254072438924</id><published>2008-04-06T10:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:18:53.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Posts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, this is my 100th post, so I looked through and read all of the posts up until this point.  I've really changed a lot since I first started posting, and the blog is really different, too.  Like, at first it was just going to be a blog about writing.  Then, by the time I got to the third post I was b*tching about middle school drama and blackmail.  This is all back at the beginning of February.  It's interesting reading back through things, because usually most of the posts are directed at specific people by the time I get to the end of February, and directed at specific events that I vaguely refer to.  At the beginning of March the posts get really short and are mostly all 'I'm really tired' or 'dramatic stuff is going on that I don't want to talk about'.  That is, with the exception of March 3rd, where I said that I thought math was cool :).  On March 8th I'm all *squee* about things that I actually talk about in the blog (so much for it being a writing blog).  Then it's April and the play is being performed, so I'm talking about how much fun I have backstage with people.  Then, I essentially talk about how I'm in a great mood up until March 20th, with lots of cryptic posts that are pretty hilarious.  The school year comes to an end and I freak out about going to high school and missing all of my girls friends.  All of the comments are 'it's going to be FINE', which, ironically, was wrong.   I mean, it worked out in the end, but like the school I originally went to didn't work out.  I get braces in June, and nothing happens in July.  August, I have fun and learn trig with a friend, along with pride myself in how I'm starting to worry less.  That really was a load of B.S., since I was still super uptight.  Then it's September and I decide to transfer to Deering.  I don't write for awhile, and then I post on September 25th going on in capital letters about how Deering was going 'REALLY WELL' for me (it was going ok, but I was still in the whole wow-I-wasn't-planning-on-any-of-this-stage of transferring haha).  In October most of my posts are about giving relationship advice to guy friends.  Ironically, I'm still giving the same advice to the same people (at least they listen to me a little better now...).  I didn't write in November.  In December I talk about debate, and January I talk about my laptop and fan fiction.  February and March lots of stuff was going on-- some good, some bad, some just confusing, and my posts are long and all over the place.  And now it's April.  I wonder what the next 100 posts will bring.  It was a long post, so comment, mkay?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                      &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6615186254072438924?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6615186254072438924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6615186254072438924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6615186254072438924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6615186254072438924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/04/100-posts.html' title='100 Posts'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7541807605558406970</id><published>2008-03-30T22:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T23:39:08.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Wow so it's gotten to the point where I've been blogging for over a year, so I took the time to look back at some of the posts from a year ago.  I looked at the entries that were closest to today's date, a year ago, and found one on April 5th that made me laugh a bit.  It was a list of things I was thankful for and what made me happy-- it was interesting to see what mattered to me then, what was the same, and what was radically different.  So, I think it's time to do a similar kind of list, just for fun.  Here it goes, things that make me happy/that I'm thankful for:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1.  My family and my friends (love them all)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2.  Drama (play, not high school shit)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3.  Music (=my life)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4.  High school (for being halfway decent)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5.  Playing stylist for friends (SO FUN!  Seriously, I love it...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;6.  Inside jokes (I'm riding the purple jellyfish, and Bob's fish, I can build a coffin in a day, sex is survival...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;7.  Sleep (It can be in short supply sometimes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;8.  Strawberry-kiwi lipgloss (Practically impossible to be moody when you're wearing the stuff)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;9.  IMing people until LATE on school nights (Interesting conversations always result)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;10.  Role playing (Sometime more interesting than real life-- certainly better than doing homework)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;11.  Writing (whatever)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;12.  Singing loudly when no one can hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;13.  Sweatpants and those David and Goliath cotton pants (so comfortable)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;14.  Fan fiction (Dramione all the way...so fluffy to read)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;15.  People who trust you with their deepest secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;16.  People you can trust with your deepest secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;17.  Falling asleep on someone's shoulder (on friends on bus rides and such)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;18.  Second chances and forgiveness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;19.  Fuzzy socks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;20.  The people that nod and smile even if you're telling them the same story for the fifth time in a row (or 11th)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;21.  Friends you can fangirl over people with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;22.  Random txt messages from friends in the middle of boring class sending you their horoscope for the day and then spending the rest of the class trying to figure out what it means&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;23.  Laughing, giggling, and spinning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;24.  People that know you well enough that they can predict exactly what you're thinking about over AIM, and what you're doing (slightly weird, still cool)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;25.  Changing significantly over the period. of a year (who wants to stay the same forever, anyways?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;26.  Mint gum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;27.  Getting paid to do things that you actually enjoy (like working at an arts camp)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;28.  Listening to the same song over and over and over and over again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;29.  Playing dress up (for plays, just randomly, or because of friends)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;30.  Lists of random things that no one reads anyways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7541807605558406970?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7541807605558406970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7541807605558406970' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7541807605558406970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7541807605558406970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/looking-back.html' title='Looking Back'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4404854731694251618</id><published>2008-03-28T23:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T23:56:26.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Film, and Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I took a script writing class and today we shot two scripts.  One was mine so it was really cool to see people act it out.  There was professional equipment and a pair of professional actors so it was like insane.  My friend is in Arizona and it's 89 degrees there.  It snowed this morning.  I am jealous.  I had two short days that I spent hanging out with friends (playing Guitar Hero and riding balloons and doing random things like that) and teching.  My friend is bugging me about things on AIM and taking unfair advantage because he knows I'm tired and will tell him things that I wouldn't say if I was awake.  So, I think I'll sign off-- the three hour time difference is making me be stupid.  Remind me to not IM people at midnight.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4404854731694251618?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4404854731694251618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4404854731694251618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4404854731694251618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4404854731694251618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/film-and-stuff.html' title='Film, and Stuff'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2830979365093907863</id><published>2008-03-17T17:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T18:57:12.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I haven't updated in a while.  But like lots of stuff is going on that I'm just not going to go into detail about.  There's been just the random stupid stuff, like having to run three miles in gym (not fun).  And then I'm just confused about other stuff-- like I said that high school stuff was much more interesting than middle school stuff, but it's also way less straightforward.  Like, even when things are simple when it meets the eye, they usually aren't.  And sometimes single isn't really single.  Even worse, if you're plagued with the shadow of 'just my close girl friend' you're totally screwed over.  Like, sometimes people are so dense that not only will they never see you as anything different, but they also burden you with all of their relationship problems.  And, either you can be a bitch when they ask your opinion about girls they like and be like 'no she's a bitch that doesn't like you- she's just leading you on' or you can give actual advice so that they go and get with someone else.  It's confusing-- what's the right thing to do, really?  And then it seems like all of my friends are shadowing or going to special schools in the middle of nowhere.  They need to do what's best for them, but really, I hate being deserted.  Even better, one of my guy friends has taken to going, 'you don't understand' to me whenever I comment on his un-relationship woes, and the stupid parties he goes to.  Well, I understand that the parties he goes to are a big deal ('you have to go or you aren't invited again'), but I also understand that like all that anyone does at the parties is get drunk and act stupid.  So he complains about the people at the parties, but then gets all mad whenever I ask him why he bothers to go.  And then, when he talks about how he has un-relationship problems and stuff he has the gall to tell me that 'I don't understand what it's like'.  Okay, now this really pisses me off, he assumes he knows me well enough to say 'you've never had a problem getting over someone, this is so complicated you don't get it'.  It's like, times like this I just want to turn around and be, "FUCK YOU", but I'm not that kind of girl, you know? Even worse, I've blown up at so many people for silly things that don't matter.  Why do I have to be such a bitch?  Comment.  It was a long bitchfest, I know.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2830979365093907863?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2830979365093907863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2830979365093907863' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2830979365093907863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2830979365093907863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5789665266320619314</id><published>2008-03-12T19:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T19:24:10.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Me In a Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Today I got in a disagreement with a friend, James.  He said that I was a neek (combination of nerd and geek).  I told him that I wasn't.  So I checked with a girl friend of mine, who added that I was a neek, only I was emo as well, so I was really neekmo.  Then I checked with another guy friend (I'll call him..hmm....I'll call him David).  I asked him to give me a one word label, so he said, "smart or crazy or entertaining. "  I explained that they weren't labels, and he had to choose one, but he just responded with, "Just choose one, then."  So, adding his words to defining me, I'm neekmoartzyning.  What's your word?  Comment and let me know!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5789665266320619314?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5789665266320619314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5789665266320619314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5789665266320619314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5789665266320619314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/me-in-word.html' title='Me In a Word'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1171871187177155441</id><published>2008-03-05T23:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T23:27:41.839-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I do this, again?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Today was the first performance of the one act.  With the exception of someone forgetting their lines (not me or any of my friends, thank goodness), it went well.  The audience really liked me.  This is so much different from when I was a narrator.  Because, no one really likes or dislikes narrators...they're just...there, you know?  So, it was a nice change.  I guess all the girl lessons from my guy friends paid off.  My guy friend at one point actually went, "You aren't working your boobs and hips enough, you need to work your walk like THIS," and then proceeded to strut his stuff.  Between changing in the same back hall as a guy friend (long story that ended in someone mistaking the entire situation, thinking it was something very...unseemly...that it wasn't), same guy friend commenting on how he could tell if I was cold or not by looking at specific body part-- it's a disadvantage to the leotard (the pervert), a different guy friend commenting on how he'd make a good drag queen, being tickled and poked by all three of them, and other things...it's been a weird play.  But, I'm glad I did it.  It certainly is an interesting experience.  Comment, please!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1171871187177155441?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1171871187177155441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1171871187177155441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1171871187177155441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1171871187177155441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-do-i-do-this-again.html' title='Why do I do this, again?'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2539760128268891544</id><published>2008-03-02T00:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T00:11:17.001-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lather, Rinse, Repeat</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sometimes it seems like life gets into too much of a pattern, like, when you can say without a doubt what you'll be doing at any given time in the next 1, 2, even three weeks.  That's when thing get boring and tedious.  I usually find this at least a couple times a year, and when I do I try to do something-- anything, to break the monotony.  If I have money to burn,  go out an get a crazy outfit and some insanely bright makeup.  If I don't have money I do something else...throw a party, tell a secret, change an aspect of my personality (not huge, just like loosening up a bit around certain people or whatever).  Whatever I can do so that things aren't same old, same old.  What do you do?  (I've already done the things listed above wayy to much, and life is getting terribly monotonous in some ways.)  Comment and tell me!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2539760128268891544?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2539760128268891544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2539760128268891544' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2539760128268891544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2539760128268891544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/lather-rinse-repeat.html' title='Lather, Rinse, Repeat'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3394061124482180809</id><published>2008-02-29T22:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T23:03:52.248-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rant and Some Observations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I love my creative writing class this semester, mostly because I'd never write anything otherwise.  Only, on Wednesday we got assigned seats.  Normally, I wouldn't mind this, but my new seat is surrounded completely (guy to my left, guy to my right, guy in front of me) of people who smell quite pungently of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;marijuana.  I really, really dislike the smell, and it's so hard to concentrate.  My mom suggested I ask to move seats, but how do I even do that?  I mean, going up and saying, "Excuse me, but can I change seats?  The area in the back of the room reeks of weed."  I don't think that would go over well.  Since that class, the smell hasn't been THAT bad, but I still don't like it.  I guess I'll just suck it up, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;On a different note, I was just noticing all the differences from middle school and high school.  Probably the most noticeable is the differences in the way relationships work.  Like, back in middle school it was just like someone saying 'Um, well, I was wondering if you'd go out with, like, me, if y'know, you want to...', but in high school it's so different.  Like, in high school you can sit on your guy friends lap if there isn't a comfortable chair in after school activities.  While in middle school this is totally taboo, in high school not only is it perfectly acceptable by the teachers, but it also doesn't involve having a relationship with the person at all.  The longer I'm in high school, the more I like it...so much more fun ^.^  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The last thing I have to say is that I'm getting better at playing my role in the one act (girly, bitchy, and slutty/flirty).  Now that I'm getting the hang of it, it's a really fun role to play.  No wonder the girly girls always seem so happy.   I don't think I could act like that in real life for any extended period of time.  I mean, sometimes I'm girly, and more than often I can be bitchy, and I am occasionally flirty (not slutty though), but I could never be all three all the time.  It would be exhausting!  How do the girls do it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Anyhoo, if you read what I write on here comment, please!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3394061124482180809?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3394061124482180809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3394061124482180809' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3394061124482180809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3394061124482180809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/02/rant-and-some-observations.html' title='A Rant and Some Observations'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6209915844810244088</id><published>2008-02-28T00:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T01:03:17.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wannabe...who?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I watched American Idol after babysitting while doing my homework, and I laughed to myself about the judge's comments.  They kept telling contestant after contestant to 'be themselves like they were at auditions'.  There are so many things wrong with this statement.  First of all, I doubt anyone was 'themselves' trying out for American Idol, they were just trying to make the cut.  I don't know if I could handle that criticism.  What happens when you finally let down a facade and act the way you want to act, only to be told that it seems 'all fake', when it's really the real you?  I'm not just talking about on the show either.  Like, when someone is called a 'wannabe', but all they really want to be is themselves.  Can they ever succeed as themselves?  What if they can't?  Should they lie, agree that they were posing, and go back to the facade.  Or should they be a real 'poser'.  And if you're called a 'wannabe' when you aren't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;trying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; to be anyone...how can you be a want to be when you only want to be yourself?  Do I make no sense?  Am I rambling?  Yes, I am.  I've had a long day, and it's almost midnight when I'm writing this, so nothing coherent will come of this.  Just ramblings.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'courier new';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;On a less poetic, rambling note there is one good thing I am looking forward to this week.  One of my guy friends wants to try out a different hairstyle and is going to let me style it.  It's a stupid thing to be happy about, but like the hairstyle he wants is going to be REALLY fun to do and will look way better than his current haircut.  I just hope I can make it look the way we want it to look-- like spiked and messy.  I've never straightened hair other than my own, and none as short as his, so that should be interesting, too.  Straighteners and gel, yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6209915844810244088?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6209915844810244088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6209915844810244088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6209915844810244088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6209915844810244088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/02/wannabewho.html' title='Wannabe...who?'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6949459259665009712</id><published>2008-02-27T17:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T00:58:44.945-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Short Story (not very good, either)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I wrote a short story for Valentine's Day a couple of weeks ago, and I decided to post it here.  It's a bit on the whiny side and hasn't been edited at all.  Also, I don't dislike Valentine's Day the way my character does (candy and happy friends= yay).  That being said, here it goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It was February tenth, and she was sitting in her room, wallowing in the general mood that the time of year brought.  A "ding" from her computer indicated an IM had been sent to her.  She rotated in her chair and looked at it.  It was one of her guy friends, angrily asking her, "Do you have any idea how upset you made him?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She sighed heavily and then tried to explain how she hadn't meant to hurt him.  After a long-winded justification he replied curtly, "Whatever."   She turned her computer, jabbing the power button harshly with her finger.  Everyone had been blaming her since the night before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It was something about Valentine's Day; she mused, "a sugar coated ad campaign for diamonds and confidence that left everyone in a crazed mood in which they professed love and just tried to find someone, anyone."  After years of witnessing the phenomena, she had concluded that it was not a happy holiday.  Every year, she watched people get hurt trying to find happiness.  In the past, her strategy had always been to strategically avoid the boys that might ask her out, given the chance.  She didn't know why she stuck with the strategy, it never worked.  So, he had asked her out, hesitantly, nervous.  The silence between them was awful, so it was almost a relief when she finally spoke, "I'm sorry," it was all she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;He looked at her, "That isn't going to change?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This time she couldn't endure the suffocating silence so she just answered immediately this time, "No."  He turned, "I have to go," he said, not offering an excuse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Bye," she said, mostly to herself, "Sorry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So yeah, that's my little angsty piece that I wrote on Valentine's.  I usually don't indulge in angst like this, but it was kind of fun.  Constructive criticism is welcome!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6949459259665009712?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6949459259665009712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6949459259665009712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6949459259665009712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6949459259665009712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-wrote-short-story-for-valentines-day.html' title='Very Short Story (not very good, either)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5053168322895814904</id><published>2008-02-26T23:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:54:06.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I should be...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...sleeping, but it's supposed to be a snow day.  My costume for the one act is definitely the most dramatic out of all of them.  It certainly evokes more reactions than any other costume I've had to wear.  It's a shiny gold leotard with no back and a VERY low cut front.  Luckily, the director agreed to sew extra fabric in the front so that it was slightly more modest (thank goodness- I felt so slutty otherwise).  So, yeah, on top of that I have to wear a golden curly wig and some pretty amazing whore-gold-gloves (they are like entire arm gloves).  So, either people love it ('best costume in the whole play'), think it's hilarious (which it sort of it), or go 'it makes you look like a...whore/dancer in Vegas/etc'.  Oh well-- I suppose drama is supposed to be dramatic... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5053168322895814904?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5053168322895814904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5053168322895814904' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5053168322895814904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5053168322895814904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-should-be.html' title='I should be...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1154259973676515467</id><published>2008-02-03T11:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:54:25.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So much...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...To get done.  My room is messy beyond belief, I have loads of homework to do, I want to get a haircut, I need to write, and what am I doing?  Blogging.  Pathetic, absolutely pathetic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1154259973676515467?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1154259973676515467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1154259973676515467' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1154259973676515467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1154259973676515467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-much.html' title='So much...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4960286492303826718</id><published>2008-01-21T23:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T23:18:49.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shamefully...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...I read Draco/Hermione (better known as Dramione) fan fiction instead of studying for finals...all day long.  It's not my fault.  Seriously.  There's this really good piece of writing (novel length) called Draco: Phoenix Rising.  It's freaking addictive.  Back to reading... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4960286492303826718?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4960286492303826718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4960286492303826718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4960286492303826718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4960286492303826718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/01/shamefully.html' title='Shamefully...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8243430925520214363</id><published>2008-01-15T22:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:54:40.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I am really tired.  Like I actually used my laptop and did my homework in my bed because I was so tired.  It may have had something to do with reading Draco/Hermione fanfiction last night, but I didn't stay up that late (I was asleep by 11:30).  But I just feel exhausted.  And I don't really even have an excuse for it, either, since I had a snow day yesterday.  If I was evenly mildly coherent I'd write something interesting, but I'm not, so yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8243430925520214363?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8243430925520214363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8243430925520214363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8243430925520214363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8243430925520214363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/01/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2264347943142709951</id><published>2008-01-13T22:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T22:23:09.278-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate It When...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...my computer freezes up.  It happened just a couple of minutes ago, and, let me tell you, it freaked me right out of my mind.  I was just trying to eject my flash drive (is that what's it's called?).  Anyways, I tried to eject it, but it wouldn't.  So, I just, being the tech-savvy person I am, yanked it out.  Then, to my dismay, I found that the little thingy showing that the flash drive was in the computer was still &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;on my desktop.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;  I figured, 'well, that's not that bad, I just have to shut the computer down'...but then I realized I couldn't move my mouse.  So, I close the computer, and, doing what I learned in middle school (never do anything you learned in middle school regarding laptop- whatever you learned is wrong).  So, then, I unceremoniously fiddled with the battery for a good three minutes until I figured how it went back in the computer.  Thus accomplished, I turned the computer on...but the color wheel of death was STILL spinning and my computer was STILL frozen.  So.  I freaked.  And I went downstairs and practically dragged my dad up to my room to help me.  He held down on the off button until it shut down.  Waited.  And turned it on again.  It was back to normal.  Now, this only begs the question: how come my dad who has never used a Mac in his life was able to fix my computer when I couldn't?  I guess I shouldn't ever apply for a job trouble shooting computer problems on Best Buy's Geek Squad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2264347943142709951?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2264347943142709951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2264347943142709951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2264347943142709951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2264347943142709951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-hate-it-when.html' title='I Hate It When...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5990869509433683244</id><published>2008-01-06T18:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T18:25:49.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MACBOOK!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;That's right, bitches, I got a laptop.  It's amazing.  Like, totally flipping fabulous.  I keep getting distracted looking at all of its really nice features instead of working on an essay like I should be doing.  Ah, well, that's too bad.  I went 4-0 at the debate meet yesterday, which was really nice since I essentially wrote my cases the night beforehand.  There's this really nice free program called Adium for Mac, where you can be signed into all of your instant messaging accounts and totally customize it.  And, the word processing program Bean (also a free download) is really nice, too.  It's as nice at AppleWorks (I can't believe Macs don't come with AppleWorks anymore...what is the world coming to?).  If you're reading this COMMENT so that I know someone is reading it.  If no one is reading it, that's okay, too, because it's just nice to rant here, even if no one ever reads it.  Right now I'm listening to "The Sound of Settling" by Death Cab For Cutie.  It's a good song.  At some point I'll need to set up my printer...ah well...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5990869509433683244?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5990869509433683244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5990869509433683244' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5990869509433683244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5990869509433683244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2008/01/macbook.html' title='MACBOOK!'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7542290279648635757</id><published>2007-12-09T19:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T19:25:39.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I Should Be Doing Other Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It seems I only write here when I should be doing other things.  You know when you have lots of stuff to do, and instead of taking it one step at a time you get really overwhelmed and do nothing insteaed?  Yeah, I'm having one of those totally unproductive moments right now.  I went to a debate meet yesterday and it was really fun because one of my friends that hasn't gone to meets in a while went and I listened to pretty music that he had on his ipod.  I came in second and it was kind of annoying because I only got a ribbon instead of a trophy.  I mean, Cape Elizabeth of all towns should be able to cough up some trophies..they're such a rich town.  But I guess they spend all of their money on their sports.  Oh well, it doesn't really matter.  I have a math test on Tuesday and I'm nervous because I might do really bad on it and that would such.  My friend is having a holiday party on Friday and I'm looking forward to it, and another friend is having a birthday party this coming Saturday.  Good stuff, good stuff.  By the way, if you actually read this it'd be awesome if you commented because that way I can actually tell if people read this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7542290279648635757?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7542290279648635757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7542290279648635757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7542290279648635757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7542290279648635757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/12/because-i-should-be-doing-other-things.html' title='Because I Should Be Doing Other Things'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8028087725301513550</id><published>2007-12-03T17:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T17:36:29.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Can I Say, I'm Lazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, I got really busy and I know I haven't updated here at all.  Mostly this was because of NaNoWriMo in all of November.  It took up basically all of my free time, and when I had extra free time for writing, I wrote in my personal journal.  Basically, that's my excuse for not writing in here forever.  Oh, and I also had midterms to study for.  Right now I'm working on (or, more accurately, avoiding) a research project on &lt;em&gt;Brave New World&lt;/em&gt;.  I'm trying to figure out if it just means that I'm extremely immature to find a textbook that describes the final scene in the book as an 'orgy of sex an violence'.   I've concluded that I'm not immature, because one wouldn't expect to find the word orgy in a textbook titled &lt;em&gt;Novels for Students&lt;/em&gt;.  Let's see, there isn't a whole lots for me to write here.  Actually, there's a lot, but I'm not in the mood to post my life for the entire random internet world to see.  Oh, I got a part in the one act at my high school, which makes me happy.  The director cast everyone, but I got an actual part, not one that she made up so that she could cast everyone.  I play 'Goods' (like, material goods).  What else is there for me to write?  Well, I made a lot of new friends in high school, and I'm involved in an insane amount of clubs.  I just read through all of my old blog posts, and I'm shaking my head about what a stupid eighth grader I was (and how stupid I was over the summer), but isn't that how it works- whenever you look back on what you've done in the past you think you were stupid.  Probably, if I look back on this I'll think I was stupid right NOW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8028087725301513550?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8028087725301513550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8028087725301513550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8028087725301513550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8028087725301513550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-can-i-say-im-lazy.html' title='What Can I Say, I&apos;m Lazy'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2026134952499489022</id><published>2007-10-14T17:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T17:24:06.699-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Surprise...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;....I'm really good at debate!  I not only won all three debate rounds, but I won the entire Novice meet!!!  It seriously made me happy.  I put a lot of work into my debate cases, and for once, it actually payed off.  Plus, the people on debate are really awesome.  Only, I was the only Freshman at the debate meet for Deering!  I found a pair of shoes to match my Homecoming dress and they're really pretty, stappy blacks shoes, with heels.  I'm still giving advice to my guy friend on the realm of dating and girls.  It's quite fun.  Let's see...what else am I up to?  Lot's of stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2026134952499489022?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2026134952499489022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2026134952499489022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2026134952499489022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2026134952499489022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/10/surprise.html' title='A Surprise...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8748282016122799538</id><published>2007-10-07T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T11:58:44.169-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hehe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm currently lecturing one of my guy friends on the subject that you shouldn't hit on a girl if she has a boyfriend.  He isn't really listening to me.  It's rather funny...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8748282016122799538?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8748282016122799538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8748282016122799538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8748282016122799538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8748282016122799538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/10/hehe.html' title='Hehe'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2555463758298878125</id><published>2007-10-01T15:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T15:05:49.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Cold</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am so sick right now.  It totally sucks...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyways, school has been going pretty well.  I made plans today to go shopping with one of my gal friends for our homecoming dresses either at this funky consignment shop downtown or at Hot Topic.  I'm going to be a punk/dark faerie for Halloween.  I found the most awesome costume for it in the whole wide world at Material Objects and I found a punk pair of boots to go with it (all for less than the price of one of the cheapo costumes at the Halloween store by the mall...).  I mean, the boots were made in Italy and are really well made and comfy (with, like, five inch heels).  Now I just need to go buy a pair of wings for my costume.  Or I could just use what I've bought already for my costume and go as Death from the Neil Gaiman series &lt;em&gt;Sandman&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2555463758298878125?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2555463758298878125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2555463758298878125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2555463758298878125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2555463758298878125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/10/stupid-cold.html' title='Stupid Cold'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7777298319432115925</id><published>2007-09-25T22:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T22:10:12.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>High School is Awesome (Except for Some Things)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I really like high school.  I'm on the debate team, in drama, in civil rights, and in peer mediators.  I love my classes and have tons of cool friends in them.  It's all pretty much good....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, and in case you're wondering why I'm not posting anything about James: my transferring led to us not being together anymore (that, ladies and gentleman, is a fancy way of saying that he dumped me).  Anyways...it's okay because things had been weird between us anyways, so things had basically been leading up to it.  Like I said before, things are really going REALLY WELL for me.  Tons of new people (I'm friends with lots of upper classmen and guys in my classes shout 'hi' to me from across the hall...it's all good :D).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, comment if you read this, just so that I know if anyone bothers to read this anymore (probably not, but whatever, I just like to vent anyways).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7777298319432115925?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7777298319432115925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7777298319432115925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7777298319432115925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7777298319432115925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/09/high-school-is-awesome-except-for-some.html' title='High School is Awesome (Except for Some Things)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2273745351914041684</id><published>2007-09-16T14:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T14:11:48.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Transferred...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;High schools on the first day of school.  I like my new high school a lot.  I do miss James, though.  But lots of my girl friends are at my new high school, and that's totally awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2273745351914041684?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2273745351914041684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2273745351914041684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2273745351914041684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2273745351914041684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/09/transferred.html' title='Transferred...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6166685191154678970</id><published>2007-08-30T19:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T19:21:30.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>'Studying'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I studied with James today and that was fun, because we studied at a waterfall and then we stopped studying and just hung out and talked.  And, for once, I didn't worry about the fact that I wasn't studying.  I do believe I'm starting to lighten up just a bit, now isn't that nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6166685191154678970?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6166685191154678970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6166685191154678970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6166685191154678970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6166685191154678970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/studying.html' title='&apos;Studying&apos;'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8893027013920505572</id><published>2007-08-27T19:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T19:15:43.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Me?  Like Opera?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I saw the first half of the Phantom of the Opera for the first time today...I watched it with a friend because she said that it was really awesome.  I'm really not a big opera fan. but I really like it.  It's just all so passionate and heartbreaking and wonderful.  And, since my friend is awesome like that, we swooned as we watched over the Phantom and obsessed over the pretty dresses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8893027013920505572?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8893027013920505572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8893027013920505572' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8893027013920505572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8893027013920505572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/me-like-opera.html' title='Me?  Like Opera?'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7373605554356460100</id><published>2007-08-22T18:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T19:04:31.268-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Lazy (And I'm Learning Trig)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah well, I've gotten lazy, what can I say. I know I should be updating this more often, but I've set it up so that it shows my Twitter updates, so that's sorta like I'm updating my blog...right? Okay, not really, but at least it's something. So much stuff has been going on lately. I've been hanging out with my friends a lot (having sleepovers and such), and get this...I'm teaching myself trigonometry! Don't worry, I haven't gotten so geeky that I'm teaching myself purely out of curiousity, I want to be able to skip not one, ladies and gentleman, but two years of math so that I test into &lt;em&gt;Junior&lt;/em&gt; math. I'm (I won't lie) really really really nervous about the test, because I want to be able to test in REALLY badly. People *coughJamescough* have told me to not worry, and I see their point, freaking over it does no good...but still I'M NERVOUS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7373605554356460100?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7373605554356460100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7373605554356460100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7373605554356460100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7373605554356460100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/ah-well-ive-gotten-lazy-what-can-i-say.html' title='I&apos;m Lazy (And I&apos;m Learning Trig)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4757924393199266322</id><published>2007-08-10T15:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T15:29:03.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What. The. Heck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Only two Democratic presidential candidates support gay marriage: former Alaska Sen. Mike Gravel and Rep. Dennis Kucinich of Ohio.  What's up with that??  Oh, and by the way, check out what I'm doing in the pretty Twitter column on the right side of my blog.  Pretty cool, eh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4757924393199266322?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4757924393199266322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4757924393199266322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4757924393199266322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4757924393199266322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-heck.html' title='What. The. Heck'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4348134296934246514</id><published>2007-08-03T20:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T20:35:46.901-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Humidity and Salons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah, it's so yucky and humid out. Anyways, today I went to this salon place (it's really nice) and got my eyebrows all waxed and shaped (I was sick of my Wolverine/Hermione in the books eyebrows I have). Seriously, everyone plays up how much getting a wax job hurts...I barely felt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been doing too terribly much lately, besides swimming, writing (a short story at the moment), reading Eclipse and Black Boy, leading a Death Note RP (I'm L!!! *and Misa, which is rather fun*), and waiting for my parents to get home with Mexican take-out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4348134296934246514?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4348134296934246514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4348134296934246514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4348134296934246514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4348134296934246514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/humidity-and-salons_03.html' title='Humidity and Salons'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1079168696802146570</id><published>2007-07-28T21:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T21:42:55.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee and Perfume</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;...It sure can wake you up, even if it's gross (organic, fair trade, freshy ground and brewed, but still gross, because I put waaayyy too many ice cubes in and made it all watery). See? That is why I like to buy coffee. But since I got a coffee maker for the holidays and didn't feel like spending three dollars on a coffee, I brewed some coffee, added soy milk, ice cubes, and whipped cream. I sipped, and realized that it was far too watery. Then, in a fit of idiocy, I added some cocoa to it for a mocha thing, but since it was cold because of the ice it didn't dissolve. Moral of the story? If I'm tired enough to need coffee I probably shouldn't make it .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I came across this perfume site because of the ad I saw in Shojo Beat, and wasn't dissappointed. www.blackphoenixalchemylab.com has gothic and interesting scents that I'm rather tempted to buy. There are ones that are based off of characters in Neil Gaiman and H.P. Lovecraft. How cool is that? And to have a purfume called grog...just awesome. I think I shall blow some of my babysitting money on a scent, but I can't decide which one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1079168696802146570?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1079168696802146570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1079168696802146570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1079168696802146570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1079168696802146570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/07/coffee-and-perfume.html' title='Coffee and Perfume'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4385444511332625872</id><published>2007-07-16T19:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T19:57:46.972-04:00</updated><title type='text'>'Busy' or Busy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes with people I really start to wonder, you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4385444511332625872?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4385444511332625872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4385444511332625872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4385444511332625872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4385444511332625872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/07/busy-or-busy.html' title='&apos;Busy&apos; or Busy?'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6507767665906956240</id><published>2007-07-10T10:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T10:54:33.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fifth Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Haha I'm so excited about the fifth (Harry Potter, obviously)movie, which is weird, because compared to the books I didn't like the past movies at all. I think they cast Umbridge perfectly. Anyways...I'm going to probably see it on Wednesday with family at the earliest showing the theatre has (which is 3pm-ish). Meh, none of the fanfic I read has been updated in ages (my favorite hasn't been updated since May, but it's totally worth waiting for).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6507767665906956240?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6507767665906956240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6507767665906956240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6507767665906956240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6507767665906956240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/07/fifth-movie.html' title='The Fifth Movie'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3400455628807560207</id><published>2007-07-07T13:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T14:02:54.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, does anyone besides me notice what's slightly screwed up and ironic to have massive concerts on every continent (that people have to FLY to) to raise awareness about global warming?  I mean, probably all of the artists performing took OVERNIGHT flights (way worse for the environment than flying by day) in PRIVATE jets (REALLY bad for the environment).  For the time being, however, I'm going to just ignore the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hypocrisy&lt;/span&gt; of it all and just enjoy the good music....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, I just need to say one more thing first, though...do you know that Al Gore owns several houses, at least one of which is a mansion, and he doesn't use clean energy for any of them?  Not to mention he drives around in big arse cars....seriously, he of all people shouldn't be preaching about the environment.  His carbon footprint is as big as Bigfoot's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3400455628807560207?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3400455628807560207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3400455628807560207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3400455628807560207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3400455628807560207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/07/live-earth.html' title='Live Earth'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-523038845722822503</id><published>2007-07-03T11:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T19:58:22.169-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drawings!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RopsFmKq-XI/AAAAAAAAABg/DIa652yS53Q/s1600-h/Yuki.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993972841478514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RopsFmKq-XI/AAAAAAAAABg/DIa652yS53Q/s200/Yuki.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RopsBWKq-WI/AAAAAAAAABY/EnvfNdAZtVw/s1600-h/schoolgirl.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993899827034466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RopsBWKq-WI/AAAAAAAAABY/EnvfNdAZtVw/s200/schoolgirl.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr8WKq-VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/V7qek-5xSmE/s1600-h/Nico.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993813927688530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr8WKq-VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/V7qek-5xSmE/s200/Nico.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr4mKq-UI/AAAAAAAAABI/1olo2QP5tSo/s1600-h/Hunny.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993749503179074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr4mKq-UI/AAAAAAAAABI/1olo2QP5tSo/s200/Hunny.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr0WKq-TI/AAAAAAAAABA/f9DAfIFyb9c/s1600-h/Haruhi.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993676488735026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/Ropr0WKq-TI/AAAAAAAAABA/f9DAfIFyb9c/s200/Haruhi.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RoprtmKq-SI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-fIqzNrxmSA/s1600-h/handsonhips.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082993560524618018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RoprtmKq-SI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-fIqzNrxmSA/s200/handsonhips.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I finally scanned some of my drawings and am posting them, so...comment and let me know what you think, please!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;From left to right, top to bottom:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Yuki from Vampire Knight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. Just some random girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Nico from Runaways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Hunny from Ouran High School Host Club&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. Haruhi from Ouran High School Host Club&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Another random girl&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6619326614174816176-523038845722822503?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/523038845722822503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=523038845722822503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/523038845722822503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/523038845722822503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/07/drawings.html' title='Drawings!'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/RopsFmKq-XI/AAAAAAAAABg/DIa652yS53Q/s72-c/Yuki.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-9062641514320217804</id><published>2007-06-30T20:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T20:12:46.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Glitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;My other post was too long, so I'm going to finish it here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;The nice things about volumes two and three is that the characters go swimming a lot, thus are topless alot.  Do I like this?  I'll never tell ;)!  This may be one of my favorite shojo manga.  Yes, ladies and gentleman, it is shojo, so if you don't like shojo on principle well, than, too bad for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-9062641514320217804?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/9062641514320217804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=9062641514320217804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9062641514320217804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9062641514320217804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-glitch.html' title='Blog Glitch'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-237520202896940262</id><published>2007-06-30T20:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T20:10:41.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Finished Script Frenzy [And Other Things]</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/121/292854164_219b19b0cd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/121/292854164_219b19b0cd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I finished Script Frenzy and reached twenty thousand words at about eleven this morning. My braces still hurt really bad, but I'm getting used to them (and I'm able to eat more than yogurt and pudding). Let's see...what else is new? I'm really into the manga/anime Ouran School Host Club. It's so good! In the picture I have here you can see all the host club's members, including the twins. (In case you are wondering, the twins= &lt;3...haha.)&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-237520202896940262?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/237520202896940262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=237520202896940262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/237520202896940262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/237520202896940262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-finished-script-frenzy-and-other.html' title='I Finished Script Frenzy [And Other Things]'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6756647948821077194</id><published>2007-06-28T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:06:43.974-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OW!  [Fuck I'm a Metal Mouth]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, today I got my braces and my mouth hurts really badly.  Even worse than that the braces look so BAD on me.  It's totally gross.  I look like that girl from Finding Nemo who kills all of the fish (well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but whatever).  I can barely eat food...it takes forever (how do people deal with things?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6756647948821077194?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6756647948821077194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6756647948821077194' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6756647948821077194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6756647948821077194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/ow-fuck-im-metal-mouth.html' title='OW!  [Fuck I&apos;m a Metal Mouth]'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7266885568332956114</id><published>2007-06-24T17:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T17:33:08.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PortCon 2007 {just finished up}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Right, so the past three days I've spent most of my waking hours at PortCon 2007.  It was seriously awesome, as this was the first year I actually went to panels and such, as opposed to just working (though I did that, too).  I got an Ouran School Host Club tie, a Death Note wallet, a Full Metal Alchemist poster, and a Death Note poster (along with lots of coffee xp).  I cosplayed as Nana (from Nana, obviously).  However, only one person figured out I was cosplaying as Nana and most people thought I was cosplaying as Misa from Death Note (from the movie, I'm not a blond).  So, since I have no problem with Misa other than the fact that she's a dumb whore I just said yeah if people asked me if I was cosplaying as Misa.  I mean, I was sorta dressed like her (with the fishnets and miniskirt and all....).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7266885568332956114?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7266885568332956114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7266885568332956114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7266885568332956114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7266885568332956114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/portcon-2007-just-finished-up.html' title='PortCon 2007 {just finished up}'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7621825660210516585</id><published>2007-06-18T18:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T18:13:44.022-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blushing While I Read...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just finished the book &lt;em&gt;Anatomy of a Boyfriend&lt;/em&gt;.  It was a great book, but seriously naughty (lot's of dirty stuff).  I mean, it's nothing I haven't read about before, but it was sooo descriptive.  I mean, and the library labels this &lt;em&gt;young adult&lt;/em&gt;?  I seem to have been (unintentionally, I swear) choosing the most mature young adult books at the library lately...last night I finished this other book&lt;em&gt; The "It" Chicks&lt;/em&gt;, and that had it's deal of sex, drugs, and swearing, too.  Now I'm just hoping my mom doesn't decide to read it (at the beginning of reading it I told her how much I was liking it).  I mean, it's weird enough that we both read the same Neil Gaiman stuff (at least his stuff is labeled adult....).....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7621825660210516585?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7621825660210516585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7621825660210516585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7621825660210516585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7621825660210516585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/blushing-while-i-read.html' title='Blushing While I Read...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7937399469479764702</id><published>2007-06-17T19:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T19:53:24.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Schools Out.....*And I'm Sorta Missing It*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Isn't that lame?  But yeah, I don't see my friends nearly as much in the summer, they're all travelling or at camp....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7937399469479764702?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7937399469479764702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7937399469479764702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7937399469479764702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7937399469479764702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/schools-outand-im-sorta-missing-it.html' title='Schools Out.....*And I&apos;m Sorta Missing It*'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1531206850573908586</id><published>2007-06-11T15:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T15:59:04.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn {I have writer's block}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;What the title says....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And I had a good birthday....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And it's the end of the year (almost)....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And I'm going to miss people in high school....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And I STILL have writer's block....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1531206850573908586?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1531206850573908586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1531206850573908586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1531206850573908586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1531206850573908586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/damn-i-have-writers-block.html' title='Damn {I have writer&apos;s block}'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7409756930997392968</id><published>2007-06-06T19:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T19:42:25.547-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I &lt;3 Script Frenzy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's awesome.  I love my characters (they're all wonderfully screwed up), I love script writing...I love script frenzy.  I think the best mistake I've made so far is write an entire scene where my &lt;em&gt;anorexic &lt;/em&gt;character bakes &lt;em&gt;cupcakes.&lt;/em&gt;  James is writing a script, but he won't let me read most of it because I get mad at him whenever I do (I don't like the character that's supposed to be me).  However, I can never stay mad at him because...I just can't, I'm lame like that.  So, yeah, the end of the school year is approaching.  My birthday is on Saturday.  I'm currently randomly laughing at something my character has said (my mom is looking at me strangely...).  Back to writing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7409756930997392968?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7409756930997392968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7409756930997392968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7409756930997392968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7409756930997392968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-3-script-frenzy.html' title='I &lt;3 Script Frenzy'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2975395967670404019</id><published>2007-05-27T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T19:52:54.358-04:00</updated><title type='text'>High Heels and the End of the School Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;So...it's almost the end of the school year, which is pretty cool.  I can't believe middle school is almost over; it seems like just a couple of days ago I was saying 'I can't believe elementary school is almost over'.  Today I went shopping at some outlet malls in Kittery (sp?).  I got this &lt;em&gt;awesome&lt;/em&gt; pair of black clogs.  They're pretty normal as far as shoes that I get go, except for one thing: they have a two inch heel!  I've NEVER worn high heels before, so it's sort of different, but it's kinda cool.  So...yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2975395967670404019?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2975395967670404019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2975395967670404019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2975395967670404019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2975395967670404019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/high-heels-and-end-of-school-year.html' title='High Heels and the End of the School Year'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-9010378290639750274</id><published>2007-05-23T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T16:09:30.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaking Out (About High School)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mkay, so here's the deal.  I'm freaking out about high school again.  They don't know where CBHS is going to be (either ground floor of PHS or at PATHS).  Also, I've been thinking about what if CBHS doesn't work out (too easy, etc)?  If I transfer out I'd probably go to PHS, as they have better AP and less people that I know (mean snooty people) there, but I also didn't really like PHS when I shadowed there.  However, if I transfer out of CBHS I'd have to change high schools, which would suck (and I'd leave behind some friends, such as James at CBHS who I'd miss).  Also, the entire idea that I may have CHOSEN THE WRONG SCHOOL is creeping me out.  I knew my good mood wouldn't last ^.^.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-9010378290639750274?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/9010378290639750274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=9010378290639750274' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9010378290639750274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9010378290639750274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/freaking-out-about-high-school.html' title='Freaking Out (About High School)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6682539454375187909</id><published>2007-05-20T15:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T19:40:02.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It was a weekend of movies (Spiderman 3, In Pursuit of Happyness, and The Princess Bride), gardening (new plants, new pots, and lots of weeding), and whatnot (my new favorite word). Well, yeah, pretty self-explanatory, besides the whatnot part, and mystery is the spice of life, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6682539454375187909?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6682539454375187909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6682539454375187909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6682539454375187909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6682539454375187909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/weekend-of-movies-gardening-and-whatnot.html' title='Weekend'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5293652575123839125</id><published>2007-05-18T19:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T19:23:57.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brownies Are Yummy (And Dares Are Pretty Cool, Too)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I just finished making brownies (it's, like, my favorite baked good to make).  I also just watched last Monday's Heroes episode for a second time (my mom hadn't seen it yet).  Let's see...today we were supposed to go to Funtown, but we didn't because it was rainy.  That was pretty lousy, because we had regular BORING classes instead.  Hmm...and in our class at school it seems like everyone is either 'ZAPing' people or 'ZAPing' people, dare version.  I got ZAPed (dare version).  I haven't carried through with my dare yet, but out of all the dares I've gotten over the years this one is pretty cool (and no, I'm not going to tell you what it is).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5293652575123839125?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5293652575123839125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5293652575123839125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5293652575123839125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5293652575123839125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/brownies-are-yummy-and-dares-are-pretty.html' title='Brownies Are Yummy (And Dares Are Pretty Cool, Too)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8986346344809015354</id><published>2007-05-17T17:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T19:03:39.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A Long School Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Last night I was thinking about how things have changed so much since the beginning of the school year. I mean, I was reading through my journal from the beginning of September (before school started) where I was worrying that everything was going to change and suck in eighth grade. That's what got me thinking; things HAVE changed a lot. However, the really cool thing is that I actually like the way things have changed. I could list the things that have, but I don't want to bore you guys. But anyways, long story short, stuff has changed, and stuff is awesome. Right now I'm correcting a French test that I got an 88% on...so...yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8986346344809015354?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8986346344809015354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8986346344809015354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8986346344809015354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8986346344809015354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/its-been-long-school-year.html' title='It&apos;s Been A Long School Year'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4310340014528879036</id><published>2007-05-15T18:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T20:00:55.841-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am tired. I usually am. Except when I have coffee. Though that rarely keeps me awake long enough. I don't get the math homework. I'm writing painfully short sentences. Well, I was just noticing that I don't really write anything new here, it's just basically the same thing five bazzillion times. So, since I want to make a list, here's a list of things you might not know about me (maybe you do, I don't know) *not in order at all*:&lt;br /&gt;1. I don't like Oreos or wafer cookies&lt;br /&gt;2. I suck at geometry&lt;br /&gt;3. When I was in kindergarten I was convinced that I wanted to be a farmer&lt;br /&gt;4. I often get plot ideas from nightmares&lt;br /&gt;5. I've read Harry Potter books 1-4 at least 5 times each&lt;br /&gt;6. I&lt;em&gt; never&lt;/em&gt; stay mad at anyone for longer than a week&lt;br /&gt;7. One of my top two favorite authors of all time writes literary fluff&lt;br /&gt;8. I knit (seriously)&lt;br /&gt;9. I read superhero comics&lt;br /&gt;10. I'm addicted to coconut mango sorbetto&lt;br /&gt;11. In general I root for the villians in books more than the heroes&lt;br /&gt;12. Sometimes I can be a girly-girl&lt;br /&gt;13. I know how to play D+D (I blame my brother)&lt;br /&gt;14. I'm a good cook (and I like to cook)&lt;br /&gt;15. I grow bonsai&lt;br /&gt;16. I've dyed my hair three different colors&lt;br /&gt;17. I'm a pack-rat&lt;br /&gt;18. When I grow up I want to move to Ireland (Galway)&lt;br /&gt;19. The idea of going to high school sort of terrifies me&lt;br /&gt;20. I'm better with a bandsaw than I am with a paintbrush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4310340014528879036?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4310340014528879036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4310340014528879036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4310340014528879036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4310340014528879036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/well.html' title='Well.'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3507660917020476227</id><published>2007-05-14T16:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T16:17:50.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Script Frenzy and Showing People My Writing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, as a sort of extra birthday present to James I let him read my writing (almost all of it, anyways), including lots of sucky poetry (one of which was about him *I'd forgotten to take it out*).  Also, I'm doing Script Frenzy, which means I'm going to be writing a 20k word script in the month of  June.  I actually think my script will be pretty good; however, it's going to be &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; dark.  No more literary fluff for me, I'm going to actually write something dark, serious, and (hopefully) interesting.  I got a great idea in the middle of the night this weekend and I'm just working off of that.  Another thing that will be different about this piece of writing is that none of the characters are 'me', and none of them are anyone I know either.  Sure, I can sorta relate to some of my characters, but they are truely works of fiction this time (which is nice in case I decide to kill a character off).&lt;/span&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/6619326614174816176-3507660917020476227?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3507660917020476227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3507660917020476227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3507660917020476227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3507660917020476227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/script-frenzy-and-showing-people-my.html' title='Script Frenzy and Showing People My Writing'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8033433074058500890</id><published>2007-05-12T12:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T13:51:07.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>STILL In A Good Mood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I'm still in a great mood.  Yesterday was fun because I went to the dance with James and hung out with a ton of my friends at a game night.  The music at the danced pretty much sucked, with the exception of '1985', and a couple of other songs (I liked one by Avril, James didn't...).  Anyways, I'm still in a good mood, which is like a record this year for me (like, an entire week of being crazy happy...what is with me?)  Whatever, you won't see me complaining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8033433074058500890?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8033433074058500890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8033433074058500890' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8033433074058500890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8033433074058500890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/still-in-good-mood.html' title='STILL In A Good Mood'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6823459187196876697</id><published>2007-05-09T20:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T20:08:07.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GREAT mood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know why really, but I'm in an absolutely fabulous bouncing-off-the-walls-good-mood. I just feel so good, like I've just had tons of coffee and everything good in the world has happened (haven't had any coffee and nothing out of the ordinary has happened).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6823459187196876697?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6823459187196876697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6823459187196876697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6823459187196876697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6823459187196876697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/great-mood.html' title='GREAT mood'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-460405455730325617</id><published>2007-05-09T15:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T15:09:33.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Field Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday was totally awesome.  Seriously.  It started of okay, and then it ended great.  For starters it turned out that James (bf) could in fact go on the field trip we were going on to Bowdain, despite his knee energy.  Then, we split up onto two buses and there was NO ONE good on my bus (who wasn't already sitting with someone else), so that was sort of sucky.  But, then all the kids on the other bus got off and moved to our bus and so I ended getting to sit next to James, instead of someone else who was  bugging me about why I was mad at one of our mutual friends (I didn't exactly want to tell him).  So, we listened to my mp3 and just hung out :).  Then, we toured Bowdain's facilities and had a GREAT lunch (I had a grilled veggie panini - so good).  So, it wasn't educational at all, but it was fun and there was good food, so whatever.  Plus, on the way back I got to sit next to James again (not kidding I think this is like the first time in history I've actually been able to sit next to someone I wanted to on a bus ride).  And, to top it all off it was like, 75 degrees outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-460405455730325617?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/460405455730325617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=460405455730325617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/460405455730325617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/460405455730325617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/field-trip.html' title='Field Trip'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1950483252464919218</id><published>2007-05-07T17:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T17:39:16.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Sunny Outside, I'm Done With My Homework and *gasp* I'm In a Good Mood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, like the title has said I'm happy. I had an okay day and then I came home and I'm listening to the Bowling For Soup cd "The Great Burrito Extortion" online that I haven't bothered to buy yet (it got really bad reviews and such). Anyways, it's pretty good, my favorite song is "High School Never Ends"...it's got some great lyrics. It's weird, it hasn't been a great day or anything, but I'm all *squee* anyways. School's going pretty well (A+ in Science, Social Studies, LA, French, and (I think) in Algebra). I mean, when you think about it I should be in a BAD mood...last night's MCR concert was cancelled and I'm not speaking to one of my semi-friends, but I'm in a good mood. I suppose I shouldn't overanalyze it, but that's what I do ;). Oh, the new Avril cd is pretty good too. Like the BFS it's really total pop, nothing new or unique by any means, but it's good. My favorite song on the Avril cd (The Best Damn Thing) is "Hot". I swear, some days I just put that song on repeat and listen to it for, like, a half hour (I'm prone to do that when I like a song).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1950483252464919218?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1950483252464919218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1950483252464919218' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1950483252464919218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1950483252464919218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/its-sunny-outside-im-done-with-my.html' title='It&apos;s Sunny Outside, I&apos;m Done With My Homework and *gasp* I&apos;m In a Good Mood'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6428028490791102283</id><published>2007-05-06T17:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T17:26:50.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Actually Doing Something With My Poetry...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm doing like what was done with the book &lt;em&gt;Witness,&lt;/em&gt; and I'm taking my poetry and putting it together so that it tells a story.  It's actually turning out pretty good.  I'm just running into problems telling what events the poems are refering to (so that the reader won't be totally lost) without telling them straight out.  It's interesting to write, and I'll probably never show it to anyone that I know (it sort of would make them think I'm depressed and screwed up xp).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6428028490791102283?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6428028490791102283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6428028490791102283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6428028490791102283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6428028490791102283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/actually-doing-something-with-my-poetry.html' title='Actually Doing Something With My Poetry...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-939055042501421521</id><published>2007-05-02T15:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T15:33:05.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Can Suck...Life Can Be Good...You Get A 50/50 Chance</title><content type='html'>What the title says.  I have stuff to do and I'm tired...so I'll work on this blog entry later....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-939055042501421521?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/939055042501421521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=939055042501421521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/939055042501421521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/939055042501421521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-can-sucklife-can-be-goodyou-get.html' title='Life Can Suck...Life Can Be Good...You Get A 50/50 Chance'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1836995791739625839</id><published>2007-04-26T16:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T16:10:54.799-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry</title><content type='html'>Lately, instead of working on my stories at night or writing in my journal I do one of two thing (1) I draw (I'm getting really good at drawing people *manga style* and then inking the drawings), and (2) writing poetry.  Lately I've been doing A LOT of the latter.  A couple of nights in a row I've stayed up writing and drawing until almost two in the morning (which I don't know about you, but for me that's rather late).  The annoying thing about it is that I can't really show people when they ask me what I'm writing when I write poetry because, well, it's poetry.  I generally write free form and occasionally haikus.  But yeah, it's sort of weird because I haven't written this much poetry since, like, three years ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1836995791739625839?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1836995791739625839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1836995791739625839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1836995791739625839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1836995791739625839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/poetry.html' title='Poetry'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7643030961966404544</id><published>2007-04-21T14:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T14:37:58.165-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's 71% out!!! So awesome...I spent the morning volunteering at Cultivating Community weeding out in the nice, hot, gorgeous sun. I'm a bit tired (due to random inspiration last night that led to me writing and drawing until past one in the morning). I had a fun time last night (before the random writing/drawing) with a couple of my friends and my boyfriend (well, he's my friend too...I'm rambling...must be the lack of sleep) at a game night. It was surprisingly awesomely fun. So now I'm in a tired, good mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7643030961966404544?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7643030961966404544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7643030961966404544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7643030961966404544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7643030961966404544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/beautiful-day.html' title='Beautiful Day...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5763714325265782734</id><published>2007-04-16T19:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T19:09:06.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies, Fallen Trees, and Jumbo Cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cinemablend.com/images/reviews/1736/_11574815118680.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.cinemablend.com/images/reviews/1736/_11574815118680.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday we shopped a lot and I got cool stuff (this awesome all natural makeup). It was the first full day with my Dad being back from his business trip, so it was nice just to have him back home (not to mention he brought back neat freebies and Sees Chocolate). Yesterday evening I watched the movie Stranger Than Fiction; it was great! I found it hilarious, being a writer, and I highly recommend it. It’s one of the better movies that I’ve seen lately (along with Jerry MaGuire, About a Boy, and *another movies that’s name is escaping me*). The funny thing that the movie (Stranger Than Fiction) got me craving big chocolate chip cookies (the crispy yet chewy kind you get in bakeries). So, today Mom and I baked biscuits, brownies, HUGE chocolate chip cookies, and HUGE raison chocolate chip cookies. Everything smells really good. Today it has been storming like crazy. My backyard is totally flooded and one of the trees in a neighbor’s yard fell down-into our yard and on top of our fence! So now the fence is just a big tangle of wire and the canoe we keep out back is in questionable shape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5763714325265782734?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5763714325265782734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5763714325265782734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5763714325265782734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5763714325265782734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/movies-fallen-trees-and-jumbo-cookies.html' title='Movies, Fallen Trees, and Jumbo Cookies'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4605124547893578018</id><published>2007-04-14T15:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T15:41:08.328-04:00</updated><title type='text'>HYPER!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.maplesorganics.com/maplesweblogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px" height="269" alt="" src="http://www.maplesorganics.com/maplesweblogo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yeah, I'm really hyper today, because my mom, brother, and I hung out in the Old Port and were tourists in our own town. So, we shopped, ate lunch at Whole Foods, and had gelato at Maple's Ice Cream. Anyways, I had 'Drinking Chocolate' at Whole Foods and it was like an espresso. Also, I had cappuccino gelato at Maple's. So now I am on a total caffeine high and HYPER!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;(The image to the left is the Maple's Ice Cream logo).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.maplesorganics.com/maplesweblogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4605124547893578018?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4605124547893578018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4605124547893578018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4605124547893578018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4605124547893578018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/hyper.html' title='HYPER!!!!!'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8957136761198952006</id><published>2007-04-12T17:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T15:41:29.047-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Snowing...In APRIL</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, it's snowing again, in the middle of April, which really sucks. It wouldn't be so bad, but the play was postponed until tommorrow night because of it. I was really looking forward to the play (well, in all honesty I was more looking forward to the hanging out backstage and whatnot, but whatever). I've been in a pretty good mood in the past week, with the exception of a couple of annoying people being, well, annoying. The one thing that probably won't be so great about the play tommorrow is that most likely certain relatives of mine will show up and then give me a &lt;strong&gt;really &lt;/strong&gt;hard time asking me who I like and whatnot (it's none of their beeswax, and I'd just as soon not tell them that I'm dating, for the same reason). Back to my good week; everything is really awesome...and I'm going to focus on that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8957136761198952006?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8957136761198952006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8957136761198952006' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8957136761198952006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8957136761198952006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-snowingin-april.html' title='It&apos;s Snowing...In APRIL'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-9132814218059276902</id><published>2007-04-09T12:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T15:40:29.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Backstage For the Play...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.starstrucktheatre.org/images/annie/AnnieJunior.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.starstrucktheatre.org/images/annie/AnnieJunior.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Well, I'm updating my blog as I wait to go onstage to make a fool of myself with my hair-with-2-tons-of-hairspray and a hideous dress (I get to say 'soap, no bubbles I think'...woohoo). So, I'm bored and James is reading over my shoulder. He was nice and let me stick some texturizing cream in his hair so now it is nice and straight (it's funny, some of the girls asked him if he got a haircut :) ). James is playing Daddy Warbucks and he does a good job of it (unlike me, he can actually *gasp* sing). So yeah, I'm in a pretty good mood just hanging out with my friends, missing classes, and messing with Jame's hair (oh, and I suppose the play is okay too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-9132814218059276902?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/9132814218059276902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=9132814218059276902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9132814218059276902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/9132814218059276902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/backstage-for-play.html' title='Backstage For the Play...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3800574707286729878</id><published>2007-04-05T11:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T12:58:30.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time For A List...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, so as I've posted earlier (and some stuff that I haven't posted) is pretty sucky lately, so I think it's time for me to make a list. Ironically, I originally got idea's for lists like this from the book series where one of the books is &lt;em&gt;Time Stops For No Mouse &lt;/em&gt;(pretty weird, isn't it?). It's where you write a list writing things that your grateful for (not just the obvious stuff). I find making lists like this makes me look on the bright side a bit more so...here is goes, in no particular order, the list of things I'm thankful for:&lt;br /&gt;1. My family (I started to list everyone, but then I decided to just keep things simple; they're all totally awesome)&lt;br /&gt;2. My school doesn't suck (as far as middle schools go it's halfway decent)&lt;br /&gt;3. All of my friends...(totally insane, nice, cool, fun to be around, etc)&lt;br /&gt;4. My boyfriend...is awesome&lt;br /&gt;5. Snow days (have one today)&lt;br /&gt;6. High school (the one I'm going to looks pretty cool, even though very few of my friends are going)&lt;br /&gt;7. Teachers...are, for the most part, with a few exceptions, are tolerable and don't hate me :)&lt;br /&gt;8. Blue hair dye that turns out green...gotta love it&lt;br /&gt;9. Diet Mountain Dew...drinking it now *yummy*&lt;br /&gt;10. Random nice people on online forums&lt;br /&gt;11. Cool online forums...most notably the NaNoWriMo Forums and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fullmetal-alchemist.com/forums/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;http://www.fullmetal-alchemist.com/forums/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt; (FMA forums)&lt;br /&gt;12. Modern medicine...for making everything better&lt;br /&gt;13. The internet, and search engines (although I waste lots of time online *see #12* I save equally large amounts of time thanks to all of the information on the internet)&lt;br /&gt;14. Books (as escape, entertainment, thought provoking, informative coolness)&lt;br /&gt;15. Plants (pretty flowering ones)&lt;br /&gt;16. Nail Polish (pretty light pink polish)&lt;br /&gt;17. Writing, as a great way to de-stress, and just because&lt;br /&gt;18. Days when I can sleep in&lt;br /&gt;19. Good Listeners&lt;br /&gt;20. Music (I love to play the piano and listen to music)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;21. Second chances&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;22. Random things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;23. Bikes (in the summer I bike everywhere)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;24. Good, thought provoking conversations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;25. Democracy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;26. Laughter&lt;br /&gt;27. Homemade pancakes every morning&lt;br /&gt;28. Being good at academics&lt;br /&gt;29. Fish, and other pets&lt;br /&gt;30. Singing (even though I don't sound good)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's just a brief list, and I know it's weird and random, but writing lists is something I do to cheer myself up (though I think this is the first time I've let other people read it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3800574707286729878?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3800574707286729878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3800574707286729878' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3800574707286729878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3800574707286729878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/time-for-list.html' title='Time For A List...'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2201401124019849034</id><published>2007-03-27T08:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T16:43:44.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because My Boyfriend is Nice and Sweet and Funny and I Missed Him When He Was In Italy (is that better?)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Well, he's back from Italy and now he wants me to post on my blog again because I haven't posted since Friday. He got me this awesome pretty necklace (I'm wearing it now) and brought back a funky glass soda bottle. Well, anyways, I've read lots of good books as of late, including &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;New Moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Twilight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;. I haven't finished the latter yet, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;New Moon &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;is great (though Edward got on my nerves at the beginning). Hehe...I think I'm in a I-want-to-be-annoying mood. All in all, I think it's better than the bad mood I was in last week. I went to a math meet yesterday and I scored over half the points our team of five people earned, and that was pretty cool (speaking of which, I made the mistake of saying math is cool &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; in math class).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2201401124019849034?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2201401124019849034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2201401124019849034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2201401124019849034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2201401124019849034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/because-my-boyfriend-keeps-bugging-me.html' title='Because My Boyfriend is Nice and Sweet and Funny and I Missed Him When He Was In Italy (is that better?)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7128682754638602986</id><published>2007-03-23T12:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T12:15:57.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank the Gods, It's Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So, I suppose it's obvious that I've almost survived the week after all, despite everything.  In just a little over two hours school will be out, then I'll have piano lessons, and then I will eat dinner and probably watch Raines at the same time with my family (we taped it last night).   Yesterday was fun because I had the day off and I hung out and went shopping.  So, in the end, my friend was right, even bad weeks do end.  Now I just have to ace the social studies test I have this period...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7128682754638602986?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7128682754638602986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7128682754638602986' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7128682754638602986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7128682754638602986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/thank-gods-its-friday.html' title='Thank the Gods, It&apos;s Friday'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8949857586710293049</id><published>2007-03-21T17:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T18:06:24.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Week Is Just Getting Better And Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;This week sucks. Seriously. Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way (grins sheepishly) I can get on with things. A friend pointed out to me that the thing about bad days is that they end. I agreed with her, but now I'm starting to wonder, because since Monday it's been one lousy thing after another. I just got back from the orthodontist and I'm going to have to get braces on my top and bottom teeth, and they're going to probably be on for at least a year and a half (all of my freshman year), and it's not going to be cheap by any means. Really, I used to consider myself optimistic (pessimists are too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;whiny&lt;/span&gt;), but now I'm starting to worry that I'm becoming a pessimist...*takes phone call*. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dammit&lt;/span&gt;, I don't think that I'm getting pessimistic, because this week is the f*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cking&lt;/span&gt; week of doom. That phone call I took as I was writing this was my friend calling me to say that his sweet dog (nicest dog I've ever met) is going to be put down on Friday. I'm trying not to get all weepy, but I've known this dog for over six years and she's older than my friend. Why does everything bad have to happen at once (because I'd really like to go back to being optimistic sometime soon)? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8949857586710293049?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8949857586710293049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8949857586710293049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8949857586710293049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8949857586710293049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-week-is-just-getting-better-and.html' title='This Week Is Just Getting Better And Better'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3932664066589000218</id><published>2007-03-20T08:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T19:52:39.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue-Green Hair (And Yes, It Was Intentional)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;So, due to my bad day yesterday, and the fact that I had bought hair dye on Sunday, I dyed my hair yesterday. Well, to be honest my dad did, since he is good at that sort of stuff.  It was blue dye, but it came out this lovely emerald green/midnight blue color.  It's drastic, but it's nice and I needed something to change about my look (I got bored, basically).  I know this is lame, but even though today sucked, the hair made it tolerable.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3932664066589000218?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3932664066589000218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3932664066589000218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3932664066589000218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3932664066589000218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/blue-green-hair-and-yes-it-was.html' title='Blue-Green Hair (And Yes, It Was Intentional)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3106733738176080070</id><published>2007-03-19T13:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T16:42:49.475-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, Today Was All Sunshine And Butterflies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Man, I just had a really, really bad day. (I've lost count of how many times I've sworn profusely over little things since I got home.) *and thus I begin to rant*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;We have this substitute teacher for three weeks because our awesome social studies teacher is out getting a hip replacement so the class was totally out of control. In crew I was stuck helping all of these guys who are total jerks to me on their portfolio's and that was annoying. We has lunch in the classrooms and I had to eat in the wood shop room with none of my friends. Then in French class, where we also have a sub, we had to split into groups and I was with my ex (who I am on less than good terms with), two guys who have crushes on me, a semi-friend, and another guy, who feeds on chaos like a vulture. Then the chaos-feeding-guy has fun with my ex insulting me and making me look stupid. To top everything off, we had to run in gym and one of my friends told me this creepy guy (a friend of my aforementioned ex) had commented on how he 'could watch me run all day'. And all of this was with my boyfriend in Italy; I sort of miss him (math was boring with no one to pass notes with).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;So now I feel really lousy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3106733738176080070?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3106733738176080070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3106733738176080070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3106733738176080070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3106733738176080070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/well-today-was-all-sunshine-and.html' title='Well, Today Was All Sunshine And Butterflies'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3328363772372526304</id><published>2007-03-18T17:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T17:25:34.565-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreadfully Tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am extremely tired from (a) stupid MEA testing for four days this week (12 stinking hours of testing) and (b) babysitting until 11pm last night.  Yesterday I was so tired from the testing I slept in the longest I've slept in years....until past noon.  When I finally woke up and looked at the clock I was a bit startled, to say the least.  Anyways, I finally went out and got hairdye.  Due to lack of purple hairdye in the store and a change in mind I got a deep blue color.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3328363772372526304?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3328363772372526304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3328363772372526304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3328363772372526304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3328363772372526304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/dreadfully-tired.html' title='Dreadfully Tired'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-559974817162531335</id><published>2007-03-15T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T18:53:45.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, But Does It Look Like I Care?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;The older I get (yes, I know I'm not that old), the more I realize that it's really important that you do what you think is right and do what you like. There are so many things lately where I just have to sort of step back and go 'Yes, they may say that you'll hate it, or they don't like what you're doing, but is it making you happy and seem right?' First I had to choose which high school to go to, which most of my friends aren't going to. More recently, there's relationship stuff where everyone seems to think that I'd actually like to hear their opinion about, so they tell it to me. With the exception of my close friends, and a few really cool people what they have to say isn't positive. Now, the saying 'if you can't say something nice than don't say anything at all' doesn't always apply, but in this case it does. The ironic thing is, too, is the people who are saying mean things really don't have a clue about the person that they're negatively judging, or about the situation at all. However, the people who are my friends are at least all being awesome about it and know that I'm happy with what I'm doing, so they're nice friends and are happy for me. And, most important, as I sit here at the computer watching National Geographic in the background I realize something that makes me smile. When it comes down to it, doing what makes me happy and I like is totally worth all the hassle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-559974817162531335?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/559974817162531335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=559974817162531335' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/559974817162531335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/559974817162531335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/yes-but-does-it-look-like-i-care.html' title='Yes, But Does It Look Like I Care?'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8048844556865738475</id><published>2007-03-14T18:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T18:38:44.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playgrounds, A Case of Jello Brain, and Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today we had an early release so my boyfriend and some of my play friends went to the playground in the park.  It was my idea, though I mentioned it BEFORE I realized how terribly muddy it would be.  Yeah, as you might have guessed, because of all the melting snow (due to gorgeous weather) there were lake sized puddles in the park.  Playing on the playground was totally awesome though, as always.  I have jello brain because of all the standardized testing we have had to endure this week (and have yet to endure).  I'm talking about over three essays and sixty questions a day here: not fun.  I am thinking about dying my hair purple.  I think it will look awesome like that and I need a change to stop the monotony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8048844556865738475?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8048844556865738475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8048844556865738475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8048844556865738475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8048844556865738475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/playgrounds-case-of-jello-brain-and.html' title='Playgrounds, A Case of Jello Brain, and Hair'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-1534502890377339957</id><published>2007-03-12T12:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T12:26:06.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on "Meet Death"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Here's the latest version of the story thus far:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;        Death really isn’t all that bad, all things considered.  He’s tall, handsome, charming, he’d be swooned over if he wasn’t, well, Death.  People are usually much to caught up in their own petty little passage on to really get to know him. They are always “Eek, I’m dead.  Woe is me!”  He put up with it for thousands of years, but last year he finally got sick of it all and set up the Dead Support Group.  It was really just to shut them up, but it became dreadfully popular in the realm of the dead and soon enough he was stuck running a meeting every single year that consisted of people gathering around in an infinitely long circle of chairs and going “Hello, my name is Bob (or Joe, or Suzie) and I’ve been dead for four years now.  It was a heart attack that did it.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;    Poor Death was then stuck being the sympathetic ear, which was a rather big pain.  I mean, by the time he listened to the thousandth fellow who died of a heart attack was he really supposed to be sympathetic?  Most of them weren’t exactly angels, so they would have been murdered at some point or another anyways.  A heart attack was really quite merciful, but for some reason they didn’t feel that way.  Remembering names was hard as well.  All the egotistical overweight executives started to run together.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;    Death really isn’t the problem, it’s Mortality that always messes things up.  Few mortals every learn in their lifetime that they are not indeed the same person and go on about with their foolish assumptions must be one and the same, not finding out the truth until their death, though most don’t even find out then.  This probably is for the best, as Mortality is rather ditzy and really doesn’t give a damn how people die.  She is much more concerned with making sure her jet black hair is perfect, though she has no one to impress.   The one time that she attended a Dead Support Group meeting the dead rioted, but I don’t blame them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;    It was the thirty-fifth year that Mortality attended the Dead Support Group meeting for her first time.  It was Death’s idea, and she probably wouldn’t have gone if he hadn’t been so whiney about it.  You see, Death was sick of having to take all of the blame for people dieing, when it wasn’t all his fault.  It was mostly Mortality, really.  If it wasn’t for her half of them wouldn’t be dead.  In truth, he had no idea how things would be without her, but that’s what he imagined.  It made things easier when he reminded himself that she had a use, because otherwise it was nearly impossible to tolerate her and her antics.  When you are Death you have to get along with people, which isn’t really fair.  Apparently death is just as unjust as life is.  Death only knew of the matters of the afterlife, he had to rely on the dead to relate how life was unfair as well, having never experienced it himself.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;    Back to the story, the way I remember it.  What was I saying?  Oh, yes, it was the thirty fifth year of the Dead Support Group when Morality showed up for the first time.  She made quite an entrance, too.  Her hair was long and braided into hundreds of braids that whispered of tales as yet untold as she walked.  Her skin was rich and dark, with her blue eyes providing a startling contrast.  The gown she wore was from the Victorian era, though it had been shortened to only fall just above the knee.  It was a sight to behold, she had planned it that way.  She longed to see and be seen, and if she didn’t stun her audience she threw and tantrum of the worst kind.  You can get caught up in the memory of her as well, though I shall not anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;        She entirely interrupted the meeting, just appearing in the middle of the group and going, “Dear brother, what have you done now?  Not another mess for me to clean up I hope!”  Death was clearly irritated; no matter how long he existed he never quite was able to ignore how terribly irritating Morality could be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;    “Sister...” His voice was calm, but also a bit testy, “Could you come back another time?”  Mortality tittered, delighted by what he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;        “That’s fine, telling me, Mortality, to come back another time.  You know it doesn’t work that way.”  She turned and looked every dead person in the eye, like only she can do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-1534502890377339957?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/1534502890377339957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=1534502890377339957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1534502890377339957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/1534502890377339957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/update-on-meet-death.html' title='Update on &quot;Meet Death&quot;'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7829569787745803016</id><published>2007-03-11T16:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T16:50:37.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snogging (And Other Great British Words)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday I watched the movie &lt;em&gt;About A Boy &lt;/em&gt;at a friends house.  It stars Hugh Grant and takes place in the U.K.  If starring Hugh Grant isn't enough, since it takes place in Britain it has all sorts of awesome words in it, such as snogging (kissing), shagging (s*rewing), and brilliant (they just say it a lot more).  So, in short, if you want me to like a movie just film it with cool British words and accents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7829569787745803016?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7829569787745803016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7829569787745803016' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7829569787745803016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7829569787745803016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/snogging-and-other-great-british-words.html' title='Snogging (And Other Great British Words)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3831718533053803783</id><published>2007-03-08T18:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T10:31:37.234-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing Notes Can Be Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Today I ended up passing notes all through two periods with my friend (well...now he's my boyfriend as well :-D).  So, we had a very weird conversation where we both played dumb and it was funny.  Anyways, it ended with him asking me out, so now I am very happy, because he's an awesome guy and, like, one of my best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3831718533053803783?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3831718533053803783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3831718533053803783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3831718533053803783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3831718533053803783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/passing-notes-can-be-good.html' title='Passing Notes Can Be Good'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-5829986735047641492</id><published>2007-03-07T10:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T10:36:29.131-04:00</updated><title type='text'>High School</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;It's finally starting to sink in that I'll being going to a high school with only around two close friends, and some friends that I don't know all that well.  I know I made the decision to go to the expeditionary high school way back in December, but now I'm wondering; did I make the right choice?  I mean, I chose the small, new high school that just opened two years ago and is moving to a different location this year.  It won't be the typical high school at all (my friends that are going to the other high schools certainly aren't helping by telling me I'll hate it there).  I really liked it when I shadowed, but I'm second guessing myself, like I always do.  I just have to keep reminding myself that when I shadowed I liked it the best and I should trust my impression of the school, not someone else's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-5829986735047641492?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5829986735047641492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=5829986735047641492' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5829986735047641492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/5829986735047641492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/high-school.html' title='High School'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-2345643340814129940</id><published>2007-03-06T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T15:20:36.778-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistakes (d'oh)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Okay, when writing I am discovering that I have a terribly bad habit of not being able to stand the character that I based off of me five or so months ago.  (Think editing and then randomly going "How could you be *insert expletive* stupid!!!!")  I think that really isn't a good thing to hate the choices that your character makes.  On the bright side, at least I smartened up (in real life) and stopped being so stupid in the relationships arena. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-2345643340814129940?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/2345643340814129940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=2345643340814129940' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2345643340814129940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/2345643340814129940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/mistakes-doh.html' title='Mistakes (d&apos;oh)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4749974442991222972</id><published>2007-03-03T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T15:10:34.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Math Is Cool (No, Really)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday I was in math class and the teacher showed us a different way to solve a problem.  She then went, "Isn't that COOL?!"  Since I did think, in fact, that it was cool I responded with an excited, "YEAH!"  This, in an eighth grade math class apparently is not the appropriate response to a 'isn't math cool?' question.  The entire room went quiet and turned to face me.  I doubt I'll ever live it down.  It was cool, though, (I doubt no one, adults excluded, will ever agree with me on this).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4749974442991222972?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4749974442991222972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4749974442991222972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4749974442991222972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4749974442991222972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/math-is-cool-no-really.html' title='Math Is Cool (No, Really)'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4415560060881658705</id><published>2007-03-02T19:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T19:57:15.825-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, I only slept until nine in the morning, due to a loud sibling, but that still was good.  I read quite a few good manga today, including FullMetal Alchemist.  I really wasn't expecting it to be good, but I needed something to read and it turned out to be great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4415560060881658705?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4415560060881658705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4415560060881658705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4415560060881658705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4415560060881658705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7801125061819121273</id><published>2007-03-01T20:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T20:26:46.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Terribly Tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am really sleepy.  I think there shall be a snow day.  If there is one I fully intend to sleep in until noon, at least.  I should write, but alas I do not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7801125061819121273?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7801125061819121273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7801125061819121273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7801125061819121273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7801125061819121273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/03/terribly-tired.html' title='Terribly Tired'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6214743743090822182</id><published>2007-02-28T18:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T19:49:04.439-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Prep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;This past week we've been spending large amounts of time getting ready for a standardized test. It is SO boring...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6214743743090822182?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6214743743090822182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6214743743090822182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6214743743090822182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6214743743090822182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/test-prep.html' title='Test Prep'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-7129452141462669267</id><published>2007-02-27T14:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T14:31:34.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Starved For Good Fiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am starting to realize how starved I am for good fiction, taking into account I was so excited to read good Harry Potter fanfiction last night I put off doing my homework for another couple of hours, and I reread some of the books on my "favorite books" bookcase for, oh, about the seventh *cough, possibly more times, cough* time.  It seems as if I've read everything in the library, excluding the new stuff.  I just want some good fiction to curl up with, possibly an entire unread series; is that too much to ask?  Well, if anyone has anything to recommend let me know; if lucks on my side I haven't read it yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-7129452141462669267?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/7129452141462669267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=7129452141462669267' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7129452141462669267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/7129452141462669267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/starved-for-good-fiction.html' title='Starved For Good Fiction'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-3196996384354932985</id><published>2007-02-26T17:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T17:49:10.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GOOD H.P Fanfiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just came across this seriously awesome Harry Potter fanfiction where Malfoy gets transformed into a rat and becomes Ron's pet.  Although I don't really think Harry Potter is all that well written *dodges rotten tomatoes*, this is hilarious and I highly recommend it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/maya/DMTABR01.html"&gt;http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/maya/DMTABR01.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-3196996384354932985?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3196996384354932985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=3196996384354932985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3196996384354932985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/3196996384354932985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/good-hp-fanfiction.html' title='GOOD H.P Fanfiction'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-4797448310959898520</id><published>2007-02-25T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T18:11:12.637-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Interesting</title><content type='html'>Well, I made a goal that I would blog daily for a year, but I don't really have anything to say that I'm willing to stick on the web.  I'm considering going all "Gothic Lolita" for the yearly comic convention that takes place in my city in June.  I know it's sad, but I've already started planning my outfit...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-4797448310959898520?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4797448310959898520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=4797448310959898520' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4797448310959898520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/4797448310959898520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/nothing-interesting.html' title='Nothing Interesting'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-8080321289532799837</id><published>2007-02-24T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T16:06:22.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hacking Apart My Novel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I read another thing in the book &lt;em&gt;How to Grow a Novel&lt;/em&gt;; you should take the worst scene in your novel and take it out.  There is an entire scenario in mine where my MC goes to a dance.  It's about two thousand words long and I think I'm going to cut it, because nothing happens to advance the plot in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-8080321289532799837?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/8080321289532799837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=8080321289532799837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8080321289532799837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/8080321289532799837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/hacking-apart-my-novel.html' title='Hacking Apart My Novel'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619326614174816176.post-6465295901355034968</id><published>2007-02-24T14:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T14:42:42.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today was a yoga class day for me.  This week lots of crappy stuff has happened, so naturally I was rather stressed.  I take the yoga class with my mom, and while doing one of the poses we caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing.  It was just a total release of all the stuff that I'd been dealing with.  Just giggling was so nice; I really have to remember to laugh more often.  It makes a world of difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619326614174816176-6465295901355034968?l=realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/feeds/6465295901355034968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619326614174816176&amp;postID=6465295901355034968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6465295901355034968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619326614174816176/posts/default/6465295901355034968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://realityisrunningaway.blogspot.com/2007/02/laughing.html' title='Laughing'/><author><name>Grania</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07751120364490917302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LilHc25ZREQ/R13kYHgBV6I/AAAAAAAAACs/Mp9cuWYAsGU/S220/nana.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
