<?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-4251040975183183562</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:32:09.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lins' life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-7939101955412833052</id><published>2010-03-25T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T15:59:33.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing Through a Straw</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have an experiment for you all. Find a straw, a relatively normal sized one. Hold on to that straw. Now, go running. Don't sprint, don't power walk, somewhere in between. When you start breathing heavy, try breathing through the straw. You'll feel something similar to asthma. Not easy. Can't get enough air, can ya? Ha, welcome to my world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I absolutely LOVE exercising, especially running. It was one of my favorite things to do everyday. But that was when I had moderate asthma. Some people grow out of it, some stay about the same, and for some like me, it gets worse. Now when I attempt to run, I have my ipod in one hand(on too loud to block out the sound of my wheezing,) and my inhaler in grasped in the other. Lately I've been backing away from running because my asthma is limiting me more and more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I had my plan to try out for high school soccer when I got old enough. I had played for 8 years before. It was my &lt;strong&gt;dream&lt;/strong&gt; to be on the high school team. I went to conditioning for a week, and quit. I couldn't keep up with anybody. I'm great on the field, but when they made us do the exercises, i was useless. Dream, down the drain. So, I ended up throwing varsity discus. It's really nice because it's laid back. Not too physically demanding. We don't usually run, but when we do, I go with. They tell the throwers, "Come on, how often do we run? So don't whine, just do it." Now the coaches know I have asthma, but I feel like I need to go with them. They tell me I can sit out if I need to. But I always turn it down. You know why? I figured not, my own dad doesn't even understand through the many times I've explained it to him. I feel week when I sit out, watching everybody. I feel like I'm not apart of the team, running together as a team. It's unfair, I work SO much harder than everyone else, only to do the same task at the same quality. I feel like I'm not as good as anybody else because I can't do half the things they do. If you don't have this defect, you won't ever understand what we feel like. About once every track season I break down. Usually it's after we run. I can't take it. I feel like every body pities me. They run by me and tell me to go sit out, and I know what their thinking. "She's probably trying to get out of running. It's probably not even that bad having asthma." I so wish to prove them wrong, and I try. But the asthma defeats me. It's really frustrating when people tell me what to do to try to get it to stop, and it's the same thing over and over again. "Put your hands over your head and walk it out." It's for opening your lungs dumbass. My throat is closing idiot. Of course I don't tell them that, but it doesn't work for me. Never does. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So as my life goes on, I'll be getting lazier and lazier. Getting more restricted on the things I can and cannot do. Maybe I'll take up knitting or something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-7939101955412833052?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/7939101955412833052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2010/03/breathing-through-straw.html#comment-form' title='38 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/7939101955412833052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/7939101955412833052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2010/03/breathing-through-straw.html' title='Breathing Through a Straw'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>38</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-6260414718423565848</id><published>2009-12-19T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T16:51:48.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bestfriends and Boyfriends</title><content type='html'>Yes, I do have a bestfriend. No, I don't have a boyfriend. It just sounded like a good title. Im sugesting you stop reading right about, NOW. This will be the most boring thing you ever read. It's more of a diary entry than a blog, like everything else. Here we go. Seeing that I don't mention names for reasons, my bestfriend will be Becker and this guy will be Barney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becker is the most amazingggggg bestfriend in the world. She's one of the friends that you can't find one freaking word that describes her perfectly. We've known eachother since early elementary school years, and bestfriends for soooo many. She's just astronomically amazing. I have no idea why she picked me to be her bestfriend. And literally, she shouldn't have, because I've been a backstabbing bitch the last few weeks. And she doesn't know. :[&lt;br /&gt;Here's the story. Thanksgiving break, NT, New York. I'm usually pretty lonly there, and that's the whole reason I go. I enjoy the relaxation. But the last time I went, I had the company of a mass of text messages from a guy named Barney. He and Becker had a huge thing for eachother about 6 months before. I swore they loved eachother, they were just perfect. I hated him before then. Ever since I met him in the 7th grade I've hated his guts. Most annoying kid ever. But I guess he's changed? Anyways, he decided to text me. And I was like alright, may I ask why youre texting me. Barney- well I was going through my phone finding people who I havent talked to in a while, and I saw your name. I was like alright, if he's gonna make an effort to be my friend, I guess I don't have to hate him, because Becker does. So we talked everyday since. About a week after he started this texting thing, I started to grow feelings for him. They were only small feelings for him though. And apparently he had them too. He texted me the Saturday morning of Band A Rama, and it said approximatly If I hadn't made it blantly obvious that im staring to like you, I dont know what the hell Im doing wrong. And that's when it all started. We just acted like friends for a bit, texting what we were going to do, because I couldn't really tell Becker, unless I wanted to loose my best friend in the world. She and him had actually stopped talking a while back. But I still feel like a horrible person for letting myself do this. Anywayss, we would show affection through text messages, but not up until about a week and a half ago did we start showing eachother our affection in person. My feelings for him are extremly strong now. And he says the same about me. I think about him a lot. He just makes me soooo happy. If you know me, I wear a smile 24/7. One of thee joyest people ever. Well, I was staring to grow tired of carrying that smile. I wasn't my happy self anymore, but I still held a fake smile there, because I feel if people see my smile they'll smile and I love that. Ever since this thing has been going on between us, I haven't had to fake my smile. Just when I was getting tired of being happy and doing my best in life, he came in and changed me around. I'm doing well in school again, (my grades werent dropping extremly, just down to Bs) the grades are up to As again, and he's built up my stamina to keep my smile. I can't explain how much I enjoy being around him. My relationship with him is so much different than others. I liked a few guys before, and i would get extremly jelous of girls they were with. But with Barney, i dont feel any jelousy when he's with other girls, because I know he's mine, and I truly doubt he'll ever go after another girl, unless something horrible happens between us. &lt;br /&gt;I have talked to a few different people about this whole problem. They said things like those two are over, and if she truly is your best friend she wont turn on you. She might not like it, but she'll still try to support you. If you really do like him, it's not like youre doing this to make her angry. I always end the conversation with them with it's like we're switching boys. Last year, I almosted dated her current boyfriend at the same time Becker had dated Barney. I have yet to tell Becker the whole story.&lt;br /&gt;Still I feel like a backstabbing bestfriend. I shouldn't be doing this, but people tell me, if he makes you happy, do it. Some of these people I talked to saw my smile getting weak. I'm not sure how Becker will react to any of this. She knows Barney and I are friends now, and that he likes me. She just doesnt know how much I really like him, or that I do at all. And right now I'm having a breakdown as I re-read this, because I really dont know what to do. Becker's boyfriend thinks that she wont really care. He is also best bestfriends with Barney. I trust him, I just dont know how do tell her in person without me breaking down and beggin for her forgiveness. I'm planning on doing it soon, so Barney and I can be together. We don't want anything to be official until I tell the biggest influence in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Comment if youre a good comforter. I need it a lot when he's not with me. Or maybe you have thoughts on how to make this all easier for me&lt;br /&gt;Night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;lins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I'm so sorry Becker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-6260414718423565848?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/6260414718423565848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/12/bestfriends-and-boyfriends.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/6260414718423565848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/6260414718423565848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/12/bestfriends-and-boyfriends.html' title='Bestfriends and Boyfriends'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-1014343940066018972</id><published>2009-10-28T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T21:05:21.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At a Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;At this time I should say, I should be doing my homework that never seems to end, but of course I'm not. I have finally entered the new state of high school. I was in high school, but no thee school. Now that I'm where I am, I have no life. Here's the breakdown of every day. &lt;em&gt;Sunday- my day, homework day, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; day. Monday- school, home, 2 hours at orchestra, 2 hours of homework. Tuesday- school, home, marching band for 4 hours, 2 hours of homework. Wednesday- student council for an hour, school, home, marching band, 2 hours of homework. Thursday- school, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Spanish&lt;/span&gt; club officer meeting, dinner, marching band, 2 hours of homework. Friday- school, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spanish&lt;/span&gt; club, play at the football game, red robin. Saturday- marching band practice till around mid day then competition for the rest of the day.&lt;/em&gt; This isn't even that bad. At the beginning of the year, when I was trying to transition from schools, we had student council everyday after school till 5, and the straight to marching band that starts at 5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;That's enough of my schedule. I recently dyed my hair back to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;similar&lt;/span&gt; color of my natural born hair. It is truthfully scary sometimes, used to the dark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; and all, and now it's nearing black. Ha. It looks good though, so I've been told. I have had guy troubles, but what the hell is new with that? Marching band, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ohhh&lt;/span&gt; man, we're a whole ton better than last year. We're currently placed 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; in the state? If we make 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; place at states I might die. Last year we got 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ehh&lt;/span&gt;. My brother's best show got to 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; place. I think we might be able to get there. We have Coleen now. She's harsh, that's not even the word. Worse than harsh. But it's good for us I do agree. We have become so much greater than our thought potential. We just keep pushing the limits. I haven't been so excited about this season. Last year never ever did I miss one minute of practice if it was possible. This year I'm just exhausted, which might be the only real term to describe it. I put forth effort of course, I just have so many things to concentrate on, I can't put my mind to one thing for any long period anymore.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;BLAHH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It's nearing midnight and I ought to head for bed. I have way more to tell. And it won't all be so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;dreadfully&lt;/span&gt; boring. I NEED A SUBSTITUTE SLEEP AID. If you are a scientific genius, please contact me about any possible antidote!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;lins&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/4251040975183183562-1014343940066018972?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/1014343940066018972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/10/at-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/1014343940066018972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/1014343940066018972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/10/at-time.html' title='At a Time'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-6946737822595106935</id><published>2009-04-13T17:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:48:31.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Makes Me Seem Desperate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But I'm not. I haven't talked to "them" in a while. Which is probably best. But I started talking to this guy again I have kinda liked all along. And whenever my friends talk about him, it just, I don't know. I had a dream about him, lol. He lost his cell phone in a classroom, so him and I were like on this secret mission to get it back. lol. It was funny, but cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I got back from NT today. We left on thursday. I saw the Oddos and thats it. It was fun. John taught me how to play texas hold em' and cousin Ceal taught me the different kinds of poker. And I learned Egyption Rat Slap and Acey Ducey im guessing. He might be one of my favorite cousins. But I found something out about him, which bothers me, but whatever. =[ Life goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I walked around NT A LOT. Mostly because I'm not allowed to here becasue of busy streets. I also threw a lot there. And some old men would stop and ask me questions about it. THEN this little kid came up to me and said that I was throwing it wrong, that I should be thrwoing it underhand. So I tryed it, not trying to hurt his feelings, and it didnt even go 5 feet.lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;On Easter I walked the whole day, along and inbetween Division and Roncrof. I got some weird looks because of my varsity jacket. Seeing that it was from 3 states over. I threw behind Spruce and almost chopped some tool's head off. But whatever.lol. There were a brazillion people walking dogs that day. I talked to my dad about keeping the house, instead of selling it, and I could move there one day. Maybe after my college years. But I was also offered a room in my cousins house if I wanted to go to college in the buffalo area. Which I would love to consider but I dont think my mom  would like that. My dad doesn't mind. But anyways, my dad wants to keep the house so when he retires, he can just go chill there. I really wish he would keep it. I love that house, that area, the memories, everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-6946737822595106935?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/6946737822595106935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-makes-me-seem-desperate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/6946737822595106935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/6946737822595106935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-makes-me-seem-desperate.html' title='This Makes Me Seem Desperate'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-3743968200699136834</id><published>2009-03-29T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:04:12.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>By the Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I forgot to tell you the happy stuff. Yesterday was states for winterguard, at SVSU ( Saginaw Valley State University) and sTa placed 2nd out of 12 guards in our class. So tomorrow should be interesting with all the excitement in the girls tomorrow. Ohhhh and on thursday we had a home meet. And I PLACED in discus. I got 3rd place out of 6 girls with an 88.5 ft. I was 2ft away from the second place. and I was ahead 38ft from the 4th place. And the first meet I hit a 73ft. and I throw an 88ft the next, what is this. That was a rediculous increase usually its only like 2ft. But kerri is going up by 5. Her season goal was 85, and she hit it the first meet, then she moved it to 90 and she hits that in the 2nd meet. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE.lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-3743968200699136834?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/3743968200699136834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/03/by-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/3743968200699136834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/3743968200699136834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/03/by-way.html' title='By the Way'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-4280222202315934254</id><published>2009-03-25T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:04:01.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>M.C.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't have a clue what the freak that means, but that's what I was tonight. An ANNOUNCER, it was pretty cool to have people stare at me.(talent show) I'm concieted, i know. But it doesn't matter. This is a catch up blog! I watched twilight for the first time! And i thought it was amazing. And I heard the book was even better. So I'm reading the book right now. I'm on chapter 21. Almost done. Almost onto New Moon! I'm doing track again this year. I'm throwing again this year. But I'm trying pole vaulting not again, but for the first time! Winter guard is almost to an end. States is this saturday. I'm kind of excited its over. Too much drama. Too many girls. Too many LITTLE girls who think they're cool. But they are sometimes. They're cute. MCYBB is going great. Theres a kid. And that's all you have to know. Infact, that's his code name now, "the Kid". lol. I had a track meet yesterday, we lost 34- 102. it was freezing and I didn't do as well as I could have. And plus we neverrrr win against trenton. I threw varsity discus. that was a mess. and jv shot put. my sister came home for a day and left for florida =[ its getting warmer here! KAYLAs birthday was last friday, and shes amazingggg. i love her. shes great. greater than frosted flakes lol.theres kid #2 that likes me. and he wrote about me in his blog and i thought it was cute. anyways i have a track meet tomorrow. poop. but its at home and the ring wont be screwed up like trentons was. yuck. im excited for this meet! i have a twitter now and a facebook. i think i have a million different forms of communication on the internet. let us list them: facebook, hotmail, myspace, ecampus, myspace, twitter, ibeatyou, blogtv, kevjumba, and thats it. what was that? nine? wow i need a life. i'm eating a cheese stick right now. and listening to my myspace song. my friend just told me that her boyfriend gave her her first kiss tonight! today, i did something to one of my tendons i think, by my knee, im like "GREATTTTTTT" i doesnnt feel cool at all. now im listening to i caught myself by paramore. and i think im leaving because thats all i had to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;oh states are in saginaw!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-4280222202315934254?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/4280222202315934254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/03/mc.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4280222202315934254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4280222202315934254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/03/mc.html' title='M.C.'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-8837424975426764415</id><published>2009-02-23T19:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T12:47:53.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>M.C.Y.B.B.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Motor City Youth Brass Band! I was accepted. It isn't what I expected though. I thought the music would be way harder, and such. But it's rather easy, maybe because I play tuba but who knows. But It's amazing being in a band programish thing that people who want to be in band go to. We all share the same intrest, I think. We all want to get better and play music because that's what we do. Andddddd it's a 40 minute drive one way.Uggggg. But it's worth it,DEFFINATLY! WELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL I have to thank my brother for this. I don't think I would play any instrument if I didn't grow up going to marching band compotitions and symphonic band concerts. I probably would have laughed at the band students. But the truth is, BAND STUDENTS ARE USSUALLY SMARTER, because we have to multitask, and think about millions of things while we play! Well I love band, thank my brother and say band people are smarty pants,lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;NIGHT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-8837424975426764415?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/8837424975426764415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/02/mcybb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/8837424975426764415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/8837424975426764415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/02/mcybb.html' title='M.C.Y.B.B.'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-2590589425115426979</id><published>2009-02-15T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:08:57.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anything and everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This one is going to be a venting blog. So don't even read it. Why are guys dumb? I don't get the way they work, why we like them, why we "need" them in our lives. I love guys that are true. For example... I know the sweetest guy, and he's athletic and handsome and tall, and he has the nicest girlfriend. When I heard I was so excited for him that he didn't go after a slut, or some orange chick. CHIVALRY make me SO happy! =]] There's this one girl, I don't think she likes anyone. Why can't i be like that? Why do guys have to have more than one girl? You seriously can't concentrate on one girl? URRGGGGG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why do girls have to be fake? What's wrong with being the white skin you are? And then you look even stupider for going tanning and turning orange. I really hate drama. Why am I creating it? I hate being a girl. It seems so much easier to be a guy. What would I do with out question? Why do I get laughed at because I'm in marching band? Why do I get laughed at because I play tuba? Why do I get laughed at because I'm a 5'10 teenage girl? What's SO funny about having asthma? In a way I cannot wait to become an adult because it seems like your just content to your family and co workers and no drama. BUT I'm afraid of even graduating from school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I got accepted into the M.C.Y.B.B.(Motor City Youth Brass Band!) I went to my first party in like a year. I've been SO ridiculously busy. I think, this summer vacation, I'm going to relax, and take time form everything, besides tennis. I'll focus on tennis and relaxing. Maybe some friends so I don't seem like a loner. But I am one =]] and enjoy it, I guess, that's creepy. I kinda feel like a stand a lone store. I get lonely because I don't make an effort to contact people outside of school. I am SO tired because I went to a party and stayed up till 5 and ,idk, I usually go till 10am. But I was a wimp. I hate trying to impress people. I hate freaking out over a 3.67gpa. I want to say I hate beng president of njhs, because if I get kicked off for a low gpa, it would look horrible. But I love it at the same time! Because last year someone said we were the leaders of the school. And I'm the leader of the leaders.lol idk. I'm SO tired. I need to shut up. Why are you still reading? Really, I love you!&lt;/span&gt; OOOOOOOOOOh goodness! I forgot to tell you, I got a 1 on my solo and a 1 on my duet!!!!!!! (1 is the best)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well I'm gone for the night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Going to watch some 13 with the familia and go to bed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Good night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-2590589425115426979?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/2590589425115426979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/02/anything-and-everything.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/2590589425115426979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/2590589425115426979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/02/anything-and-everything.html' title='Anything and everything'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-3878829355524876605</id><published>2009-01-11T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:11:55.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wow, I haven't written in a while. So here we go. We had paintpropping day, that was great with all of the white walls.lol. On the 5th I went back to school. Gosh I love school, not sarcastically either. I had a busy week back. There was a soccer meeting and I start conditioning tomorrow. OOOOOh jeez this will be painful, for a bit. On Wednesday I went to the YMCA and ran 2.5 miles for the first time in a year,lol. My legs were in pain for a million days. I had my first performance for Winter Guard yesterday. It was horrible because people don't know how to practice by themselves.uggggg. I was told I did great on my solo!!! So life is going very well, and I can't wait to start soccer conditioning, but I'm scared haha. S and E is coming up so I really need to buckle down. Well that's about it I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I have to do some studying and homework. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;oh and midterms are this week,oh no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-3878829355524876605?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/3878829355524876605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/01/life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/3878829355524876605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/3878829355524876605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/01/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-4526089165916714559</id><published>2009-01-01T23:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T23:16:26.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Quick</title><content type='html'>Really quick. So last night or morning I went to bed at 10 a.m. And I beat my old record by 2 hours.lol I woke up in time for dinner. Wow. I'm dumb.haha. So I have prop building tomorrow. This should be interesting, and dad,mom, and I played Yahtzee today. That game is soooooo dumb. Last night I watched HER BEST MOVE 5 times because I now love that movie. Go watch it. It is very inspiring. Wellllll I lost a lot of sleep. I need to go catch up. I'm out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Lins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-4526089165916714559?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/4526089165916714559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/01/real-quick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4526089165916714559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4526089165916714559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2009/01/real-quick.html' title='Real Quick'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-8276867815479315092</id><published>2008-12-31T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T23:34:13.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean Slate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wow, another year. They go by way too fast for me. For this means a new slate, new resolutions, new perspectives, new expectations. For means people trying to quit smoking, quit spending money left and right, or maybe trying to be nice. For I myself, am going to try to live a healthier lifestyle, tell the truth, always, and give everything a shot, except for law breaking crimes.lol. Another year to hold onto our jobs, houses, frames of minds. A new year to work with our marriages, raise our kids, and keep our freedom. And for me, keep my promises and go to bed way earlier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To start off the new year of 2009, I am going to continue to pull an all-nighter. I started this last year in honor of the passing of both my grandmother and grandfather. My grandmother passed in 2005 and grandfather 2007. So I stayed up all night on the last day of 2007, and fell asleep at 8 o'clock in the morning on the first day of 2008. I'm going to do it again. In honor of all of my passed family members and all in the wars over seas. But I'm not just doing this for them, I'm doing it because it is down right fun. I get all loopy when I have a lack of sleep.lol. It happens to be starting right now. So I will be texting allllll night if anyone is awake. I will be watching 4 different movies, and playing as many board games that allow only one player, because the rest of my family are poop heads and went to bed at 2 o'clock in the morning. O well, I will live on I guess. This is going to be a rediculously long entry. I have so many things to say. Not really. I will just be doing some rambling, so I DO advise that you stop ready right about NOW. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday I got my phone fixed because it mysteryously stoped texting. But I could get text messages. O well, it's fixed is all that matters. Last year I stayed up and painted with my Paint-By-Number paint set my grandpa gave to me before he died. I TRIED to paint the Noah's Ark, it did not look too pretty.lol. Today I watched, Get Smart and Fire House Dog with my mom and dad. I'm a family person. Ryan came home really early, at like 1 o'clock. WEIIRRRRRD. But what evvvvvs. Tonight I'm going to watch Definatly Maybe, and I forgot the other one, but I think it's good. Man this is going to be a lonnnnnnng night, or morning. So I got a new pack of gum, DUMBBBB dog.errrrg. I dressed up for New Years Eve's dinner and guess where we went to eat. MHMMM, Big Boys(is proud to be,,, a michigan thanggg). I got the jumbo shrimp. JEEEEZ oximoron lol. My eyelids are really heavy and I am typing reallllllly slow. I think I'm gonna need to drink a lot of pop if I'm gonna beat my record of staying up till 8, it wasn't even 24 hours. So I will write back whenever I wake up tomorrow and tell you what time I fell asleep. Last time I didn't really just nod off. I decided to go to bed because when my brother got up and saw me and I wouldn't stop laughing he was like dude you need sleep. So I slept on my couch for like a million hours. No actually I went to sleep around 8 and woke up at 12 and ran on 4 hours of sleep the whole day. OH DANG I have prop building technically tomorrow, well on the 2 at 10 a.m. I hope this doesn't screw up my sleeping schedule for a long time. urgggg. I NEED SODA. My eye lids are really heavy. Is eye lids one or two words? hmmmmmm. JEEEZ I'm bored. I don't wanna break out the paint either. It smelled pretty funky last year. I just got 5 mountain dews and an aquafina water. I will deffinatly be needing more soda. I need a life. Well I just blew 1/2 an hour just writing this and thinking and breathing and reading over myspace comments from like 2 years ago. Oddly, I remember every conversation. hmmmm. I must be paranormal.lol. Well good morning I guess. I will be back for a short update.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;lins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;sorry for anybody who read the whole thing,lol!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;love ya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;p.s. i actually stoped writing this at 2:33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but the thingy majig say 10 something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;just wanna get that straight as a B line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-8276867815479315092?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/8276867815479315092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/clean-slate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/8276867815479315092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/8276867815479315092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/clean-slate.html' title='Clean Slate'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-7751901623019043484</id><published>2008-12-29T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T20:28:42.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Person ++ some stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well I did get back home from New York today. The car ride was somewhat enjoyable. No idea how or why. I'm just like that. BUT THE SUBJECT of this blog is based on a guy named Zach. I met him when we were little toddlers. He moved to Florida and he came back to visit family I'm guessing. Well I saw him today and he cracked the jokes one after another at me. I was about to explode on that kid. URGGGG. But I didn't. I tried to keep calm and mannored. I think I hit him with a foam bullet once just because I had to. I feel like a better person. I didnt't blow up like I used to. The niceness is soooooo relieving. Change is coming over me and I enjoy it. Better is what I have become. But there is a long long long road to perfection. Which with knowing me will never come because of a need to be better. That's just me. AND AND AND he leaves tomorrow. Thank the heavenly lord!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What to talk about? My dog ate my gum. I ate a chocolate chip muffin, and ohhh was it tasty. I was in New York and now here which is kind of good, makes my day better. I am manly. My room is clean. My family doesn't hate me. The toilet is crazy, thanks to my brother's wacko friends. I listened to a variety of music. I ate wings with my family. My other dog wasn't happy to see me =[. I'm pooped. I'm going to go paint on my wall. Stepbrothers is the dumbest movie. Koalas are extremely adorable. I might be going to build a bear workshop to make me a koala. I know, immature, but come on koalas are amazing. I seem to be escaping all of the power outages. My dog, K.T. is much more calm. I feel cool in my sunglasses.lol. My phone won't let me text but I can recieve.URGGG. I say urg toooo much. Why is the tuba in MY room? Why did my dog eat MY gum? Why did MY phone break? Why do I look older than I am? Soooo many questions, so few answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;thanks for reading my ramblings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;3 lins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-7751901623019043484?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/7751901623019043484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/better-person-some-stuff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/7751901623019043484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/7751901623019043484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/better-person-some-stuff.html' title='Better Person ++ some stuff'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-4833686234670369972</id><published>2008-12-27T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T18:56:39.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today, wwwoo whoeee. Dad, momo and I and K.T. took a nice long dirve to somewhere today to visit some family and spruce up our house some more. Well the drive here really wasn't as bad as ussual. I went fairly quick. How is that possible being a 5 hour ride? don't have a clue. K.T. ...my puppy was different. She's usually a ball of energy, but she just slept the whole way there, which I enjoyed very much. After we got here and ate some dinner and got settled in, we visited my great aunt and my cousins and tons of other cousins. Matt, Nathan, Kasey, and her boyfriend and I played apples to apples. Wow that game is fuuuuuunnnnnn with some perverted minds.lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;AND here comes the whole subject of this blog. I miss all of my family. I have millions of family members here in somewhere. I do have tons in somewhere too, but the only ones that I see alot are my cousins that live across the street. I think I only see the fam in somewhere a lot when I come becasue we don't come as often as we used too. I do relate to my dad's side of the family way better. The l.n. in me just comes out when I am around them. My mom's side wouldn't understand the l.n. in me. ME, I, MYSELF, am a family person. I absolutly enjoy the company of my family. We have much incommon and many things and stories to share. We relate and spend time playing games as a family which is different to me than that of my friends. Oh don;t get me wronge, I LOVE my friends too. But the family and I share a different bond and relationship. I don't have to worry about loosing them because they have no choice. My friends are able to up and leave when ever they feel like it. I don;t want that to happen but it could. I would do anything for my family, but who wouldn't? I know it is natural to say that, but I think I really doo mean it. Back to the bonding. My cousins and I know eachother, but we're not bestfriends obviously becasue I live in somewhere. But when we hang out for that one day, it seems as if we have known eachother forever and hung out everyday of our waking lives.Wow you're still reading. Go ahead and shoot me for keeping you so long. They're just going to get longer. =] God, I love my dog now too. She is such an influence. She's always happy and never gets mad at me. Uggggh I need to change and get a life. But I thank you for reading. mmm night -lins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-4833686234670369972?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/4833686234670369972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4833686234670369972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/4833686234670369972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-5514329962113448632</id><published>2008-12-27T00:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T00:26:58.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BLOGSSSSSS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I guess I mised the memo that everybodys first blog is one saying...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"My friend forced me to make a blog, so here it is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I heard these were cool, so I guess if I write some I'm the shit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I thought my first blog should be about me starting my new life. I'M A HOMOSEXUAL!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;These are not my excuses because&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. no one forced me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. i don't think i'm the shit, i'm a loser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. i'm pretty sure i'm not gay, sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I simply thought &lt;strong&gt;"Maybe I should try this."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So uhh don't make fun of me yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I should be able to catch on to this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;so called "BLOGGING!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-5514329962113448632?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/5514329962113448632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/blogssssss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/5514329962113448632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/5514329962113448632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/blogssssss.html' title='BLOGSSSSSS'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4251040975183183562.post-125080947703840335</id><published>2008-12-26T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T00:30:20.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B.M.I.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today I was watching a show called The TV Doctors with my mother. It is a quite interesting show I will tell you. That will not be the point. There was a child who played video games litterally all day long and ate unhealthy foods ( who doesn't). The doctor entered in some of the physical characteristics into a B.M.I. (Body Mass Index) calculator. The doctor said you could find one of these on the channel's web page. Mother asked me if I was going to try it. I said "Umm sure, why not?" So I put all of the nessecery information, and the device told me I was overweight. If you know me the following is expected. I cried, short but well. I did not mention anything to mother. No lies, I heard a voice tuanting me, saying "You're overweight. You're over weight. You're over weight." Well, some mental damage was done. Not to sound conceited but, I don't think I look it. Here's what I think I might have learned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*People have different metabolisuim rates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*I stay very active, and if I keep this up I will not fall into the obese catagory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*It's life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*People don't look at eachother and say that girl over there is overweight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*Really, all day I have been breaking down the word OVERWEIGHT into simpler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and deffinatly much nicer terms. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*The truth hurts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have no clue why I sound so professional in this blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I guess I'm just worried. =[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't get used to it. Hahahah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4251040975183183562-125080947703840335?l=dumcrum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/feeds/125080947703840335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/bmi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/125080947703840335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4251040975183183562/posts/default/125080947703840335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumcrum.blogspot.com/2008/12/bmi.html' title='B.M.I.'/><author><name>lins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04236541271268197002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krf0b3Wbuz4/SukOBMc-VCI/AAAAAAAAACM/fq-MBg7aJMM/S220/coolio.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
