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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass</id>
  <title>Look at the stars</title>
  <subtitle>Look how they shine for you.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Brittany</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-12-05T03:51:03Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="6602806" username="liberationmyass" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:167903</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-12-04T22:49:00</title>
    <published>2009-12-05T03:51:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-12-05T03:51:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Would really, REALLY like some peace and quiet in my head. It's a cacophony of 'WHY HER NOT ME,' 'GOD I'M FUCKING FAT,' 'FELIX IS CRYING WHY IS SHE CRYING PLEASE MAKE HER STOP,' 'I REALLY NEED TO RUN TOMORROW,' 'I DON'T WANT TO GO TO WORK,' 'I NEED TO STOP SPENDING MONEY,' 'THIS IS NOT DIET SODA WHY AM I DRINKING IT,' 'I REALLY WISH SLUTS WOULD JUST GET HIT BY BUSES,' and etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are certain things about living with roommates that no one really tells you. Like the fact that your alone-time goes from, in my case, sacred.. to nonexistent. Don't get me wrong, roomie love time is great and everything, but I like to be alone with my laptop and a drink the last 1.5 to 2 hours before I fall asleep. Since the three of us are the store managers, one of us is always NOT home until 10pm. That means RLT starts around 10 and usually lasts the length of either one movie or several episodes of a season of a show. That puts me at midnight-ish, and then I can't really sleep until one or two am. I'm predominantly an opener, which means I'm up at 7 am every morning. When I lived with my parents, I was usually asleep by midnight. Losing two hours of sleep has completely killed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND MY PATIENCE. OH MY GOD, IT HAS KILLED MY PATIENCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I sincerely suck at working retail. I hate customers, I hate the product I'm selling, and I hate answering the phone all day long as it rings off the fucking hook with people asking me the most ridiculous. questions. ever. The only thing I can do is continue telling myself that in five weeks, the holiday rush will be over. In five weeks, I'll be turning twenty one, having a huge party, reading lots of books, and in general just have a lot of time for recovery. Unfortunately by the time I'm recovered, it'll be time for the holidays all over again. Grrr, I need a raise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felix is growing super fast, but so are her teeth. She's driving me nuts and just chewing on everything all the time, including me. She's mostly potty trained, but now I have to have Bob and Jay take her out and feed her if we're on alternating shifts, and honestly it was just easier to have my dad babysitting. I'm taking her back to my parents' place this weekend because I have two days off in a row and I'm going to Oswego one day and Syracuse the other. Gamestop owns Barnes and Nobles and this weekend is bonus employee discount days, so if you have any books you think I should add to my TBR pile, chime in before Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have a place to be with people, I suddenly miss having people to be with. Micha is far away and I feel like a big hypocrite for asking her to visit me here when I haven't even been to visit her apartment yet. Abby and I were supposed to meet up for coffee this week, but we both got distracted and whatnot, so hopefully that or lunch will happen next week. I have a big bed and only sleep on half of it (when Fe's fat puppy ass isn't in it, that is), so I've found myself actually looking for someone to bring home. It's fucking crazy and I'm going to regret it, but I miss cuddling and I kind of feel like I deserve something good after so many years of shit. It's been a fair few years since I've actively sought out a significant other, but I can't imagine it's that hard to find someone I can stand to look at, talk to, and sleep with in one little package. Right?</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:167592</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-11-24T00:44:00</title>
    <published>2009-11-24T05:44:04Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-24T05:44:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Hey Gav, if you're out there somewhere; I jumped in a leaf pile today just for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I jumped in one for me. Then I jumped in one for Abby. Hell, I jumped in about ten just because &lt;em&gt;I fucking love leaf piles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:167197</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-11-21T02:45:00</title>
    <published>2009-11-21T07:45:53Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-21T07:47:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I almost made an ass of myself tonight. I almost did it like I definitely did it last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, but I didn't. I didn't do it because just as I was about to open my big mouth, he looked at me one more time and then took some other stupid girl home with him. A drunk, slutty, stupid girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fucking beat, man. How many times in a row does it have to happen before you crack. I want to call him and say something like 'If I'd only known it was as simple as acting like an easy piece of ass...' but then I'll feel horrible when I wake up and realise I gave in to my emotions. It might be salvageable from this point if I can wrap my head around this horrible thing he's done, but it definitely won't be if I react like I want to. It's completely unfair and I feel like a miserable, unloveable mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure that the one thing I've taken away from the last two years' worth of mistakes is that you are worthless to men if you're not putting out, and putting out aggressively. I should know better by now than to expect anything more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(But it still hurts.)</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:167039</id>
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    <title>161</title>
    <published>2009-10-27T15:03:16Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-28T00:10:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Felix comes home in &lt;strike&gt;6 days&lt;/strike&gt; FOUR&amp;nbsp;DAYS! Vet appointment is made, puppy supplies are ready, I&amp;nbsp;get paid on Friday. Perfect timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out on&amp;nbsp;Saturday with Micha to celebrate Josh's 25th. Had a romping good time with them and half of Moonshiner, who met up with us at the bar. Josh, Andy and Brian, when drunk together, are an endless source of amusement. Fell asleep on Andy's loveseat and woke up around 6am with the worst head/neck ache of my life. Also, freezing my butt off, since the woodstove died in the middle of the night. Drove home and passed out in bed for about 6 hours, and spent the next 6 in bed bumming around pretending to be sick. I miraculously recovered in time to go to work yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nakedjuice.com/#OurJuices/Background/MainMenu/Families/Superfood/bottle2"&gt;This stuff&lt;/a&gt; is amazing. Down to 161 with six more pounds to go to meet my first mark. As I have almost 4 weeks to do it, I'm not overly concerned. I&amp;nbsp;do need to get into the gym more, though. I paid for the damn membership, I&amp;nbsp;need to use it. My goal is to run three days a week, lift weights two days, and swim one or two days. I need a work-out buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tres tres excited about Halloween; Jay gave me the night off! I'm going to sit on the porch with the ratties and hand out candy, and then head out to Brantingham to spend the evening at the Pine Tree with Mooshiner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I have several shifts at work to look forward to, and possibly lunch with Abby. No opportunities to visit Miche at her apartment this week, but we'll make something work soon. Definitely before it snows, which it will probably do within the next few weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:166522</id>
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    <title>163</title>
    <published>2009-10-22T18:26:15Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-22T18:28:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I&amp;nbsp;think I did five pounds in a week. &lt;em&gt;I think&lt;/em&gt;. My weight log thingy is being a bitch and won't show me the last 8 days, but I'm pretty sure I&amp;nbsp;was 168 last Wednesday, and I&amp;nbsp;know I'm 163 today. Yay. I&amp;nbsp;do know that I took some photos this morning for dailybooth and I&amp;nbsp;could definitely see the difference in my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 502px; height: 334px;" src="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b315/ohistarveforyou/Me/October%202009/DSCF2222.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;went for a run this morning, but since I&amp;nbsp;haven't been eating much, I&amp;nbsp;felt like shiiit afterwards. I&amp;nbsp;got in the shower and realised too late that I was about to fall over. Sat down on the bathroom floor and saw lots of black spots for about 3 minutes. Not good. Note to self, have breakfast on running days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;was supposed to have lots of days off this weekend, but then shit went to hell and now I have to open the store tomorrow and possibly close on Saturday. Buncha crap. I'd bitch a lot, but I&amp;nbsp;need the money. Especially now that I'm going to have lots of vet bills with a brand new puuuuupppyyyyy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally got the okay to bring one home. It's not like I won't be paying for it and taking it away with me when I&amp;nbsp;leave anyway. This is going to be a bonafide travelling musician doggy. I've been checking in periodically with the bunch of puppies we're getting one from and have decided on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 498px; height: 330px;" src="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b315/ohistarveforyou/Pets/Felix/DSCF2226.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I&amp;nbsp;know, you can't really see her face. She's camera shy. Anyway, I was expecting a boy and liked the name Felix, but ended up choosing her, so the name is sticking and I&amp;nbsp;don't care who wants to pick a fight about it [IE, my dad]. She's a shar pei/&amp;nbsp; black lab mix and will be ready to come home on November 2nd. Dad's birthday. Perfect. No, I'm not renaming her as your birthday present. I&amp;nbsp;know she's a girl. Yes, I see that. No. Get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already can't wait to dump all this extra weight so I can eat just ONE&amp;nbsp;MEAL&amp;nbsp;of real food again. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:166256</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-10-19T23:40:00</title>
    <published>2009-10-20T04:55:17Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-20T04:58:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Have had a migraine for two days. Vicodin keeps me sane. Pretty sure my doctor was correct in perscribing birth control to keep the headaches at bay; about two years in, I began to wonder if the migraines were a passing ailment and they had just timed the BC really well. Now that I've been off for three months, for the first time in 7 years, and the migraines are coming back.. well. Yeah. It's much too bad, as well, considering I was looking forward to losing some of the weight I picked up over time on that stuff. I can't really afford to go back on BC without health insurance, but if the headaches persist, I won't have much of a choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment, I'm working on a rewards system with weight loss. I&amp;nbsp;mentioned several months ago to Micha that I&amp;nbsp;intended to buy myself breast implants if I ever got back into the 130's. Not that I'd ever &lt;em&gt;admit &lt;/em&gt;to having gotten breast implants, but you know, if you have a waist as small as mine ought to be at that size, you really ought to have the tits to match. I think Bs will fit nicely. I&amp;nbsp;have them now, but they'll be the first thing to go once I actually start losing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for now, this is what I'm working towards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Begin 10/18&lt;br /&gt;(165)&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;Lose ten pounds&lt;br /&gt;(155) &lt;br /&gt;Monroe repierced - $35&lt;br /&gt;Deadline 11/22 &lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;Lose fifteen&lt;br /&gt;(150)&lt;br /&gt;Brand new camera - $700&lt;br /&gt;Deadline 12/13&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;Lose twenty&lt;br /&gt;(145)&lt;br /&gt;Trip to England $2000&lt;br /&gt;Deadline 12/27&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;Lose thirty - thirty five&lt;br /&gt;(135 - 130)&lt;br /&gt;Breast implants $3000&lt;br /&gt;Deadline 01/31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot damn, I'll be broke as a joke by the end, but I'll be skinny and have great tits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to keep my caloric intake under 1200, though I'm not counting coffee or tea as calories, even with sugar and cream, and you can't make me. Nyeh. Also, I'm biting the bullet and buying a stupidly-expensive membership to the gym in town because I&amp;nbsp;know that I'll use it every day, what with it being so close to home, and I really need to start running again. Dieting is great and all, specially when you wither away to nothing from not eating, but it doesn't keep the pounds off and I feel much healthier when I can put a mile down easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;feel nauseous and sleepy, I&amp;nbsp;think it's time for bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:166075</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-10-18T10:44:00</title>
    <published>2009-10-18T16:37:12Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-18T16:52:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Horrors were aaaaamazing. DING. Srsly. I'll post one own stuff with pieces of Erin's entry here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Firstly, I&amp;nbsp;got there early which was great because I&amp;nbsp;had to run to a TM outlet to get my ticket, and we also wanted to grab some food. That done, we got lost on our way to the venue (which was kind of funny considering the hotel and venue were on the same street. snorfle.), but after doubling back once or twice, we finally found our way there. We sat around outside in the small queue smoking cloves and listening to our new friend, &lt;a href="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b315/ohistarveforyou/Musica%20musica/The%20Horrors/Erins%20photos/10216_1107001729299_1654470100_2725.jpg"&gt;Wu Tang Guy&lt;/a&gt;, rapping at random (he told me I look like Hilary Duff). As the tour bus was parked on the street literally in front of us, Horrors kept walking by being adorable. The first time Josh passed me, my eyes got big as saucers and I&amp;nbsp;distinctly remember thinking, OH&amp;nbsp;MY&amp;nbsp;GOD HE IS SO SMALL. SO SMALL. OH MY GOD. I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET RHYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;ordered &lt;a href="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b315/ohistarveforyou/Musica%20musica/The%20Horrors/DSCF2040.jpg"&gt;my first legal drink&lt;/a&gt;! A jack and coke. It was very expensive (&amp;quot;because it had to come all the way from Kentucky,&amp;quot; says bartender man, who was incorrect in which state it was made in, but whatev), but it was strong and delicious and gave me enough buzz to happily dance around for the first band. Incidentally, the first band was from Tennessee? By the time the second band came on, the buzz was gone, which was fine because they were not very good. We spent more time outside being cute. And cold. Toronto is cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Erin's take on the show;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;first opening band was pretty good, we skipped the second, Horrors were&amp;nbsp;AMAZING. they played all of Primary Colours, three songs from Strange House (sheena, count in fives, and gloves) and they also did a cover of Ghost Rider by Suicide. we stayed as close as we possibly could without getting trampled, but we were pretty lucky and had&amp;nbsp; few random guys looking out for us. seeing the horrors with another proper horrors fan made the whole experience that much better, and even though we'd only properly met a few hours beforehand, it felt like we'd known each other a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we stuck around after the gig and had bizarre encounters with every single horror, except joe. although we did talk to the poor, shivering drummer for a quick minute. we made an &amp;quot;I&amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;3 ROBBERT&amp;quot; sign and got a picture of tom holding it up, him oblivious to what it said, and then later when we had him sign it we jogged his memory on the subject of robberto and he was really pleased about it and wanted a picture of his own of the sign.&amp;quot;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Tom got distracted by two other girls before he had a chance to grab his camera and was hopping into a taxi with Rhys by the time we made eye contact again. I&amp;nbsp;caught an &amp;quot;Oh, I&amp;nbsp;forgot to do that,&amp;quot; look on his face right before he shut the door, but oh well. Good story either way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funniest part about that sign was that, though my camera died mid-shot, we did the same thing to Rhys (who was every bit as tiny and fairy-like as I&amp;nbsp;was hoping). Before handing the sign to the two of them, I&amp;nbsp;made sure to tell them &amp;quot;Hold this, but don't look at it.&amp;quot; Rhys made a face at me and went to look at it. I&amp;nbsp;was like &amp;quot;DON'T LOOK AT IT,&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp;and he got all cute and chastized-looking and yelled, &amp;quot;I&amp;nbsp;won't look at it!&amp;quot; Then my camera died, so he looked at it, laughed, and then gave us a musical history lesson on Silver Apples and Suicide, complete with dates, names, side bands, names of songs, albums, etc. I&amp;nbsp;remember just staring at him with my brain fizzling happily, barely hearing what he was saying. Thankfully, he wrote everything down for me as he was talking. Flow charts ftw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh was possibly the strangest person I've ever met. We caught him mid-stride to escape people and get to the warmth of the bus, but as he was the last one I&amp;nbsp;needed to sign for me, I&amp;nbsp;brushed away my usual respect for boundaries and stopped him. Felt rude. Anyway, I prefaced stopping him with &amp;quot;You're going to hate me, but could you sign this?&amp;quot; To which he stopped, looked off into his hair for 2.7 seconds as though thinking hard and then said &amp;quot;...No... I&amp;nbsp;don't hate you. And yes.... I&amp;nbsp;will sign that.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;quot;josh told us a story about going out drinking with robbert (&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;or craig, as i like to call him&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;) and how he doesn't remember getting home and woke up the next morning with blood, bagel, and cream cheese all down his face. we were confused by his willingness to share such weird, personal anecdotes, but we definitely enjoyed it. he thinks he hit his face getting out of the cab that night.&amp;quot;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faris was... tall. And creepy. And quiet. He chatted with us for a bit before getting distracted by a girl (read: groupie), so we ended up having a conversation with this hilarious and wonderful gay man. We invited him to breakfast and I gave him my number, but he never got in touch. By the time we had finished exchanging information, Rhys, Tom and Josh had all gotten taxis elsewhere, each one stopping to have a quick word with Faris, who was still being attacked by the groupie. The street was virtually empty but for the three of us and the two of them (and the bus on which was Joe (and Phil! HEY&amp;nbsp;HEY) and some other roadie folks), so when they left, together, and strode off down the street, and when our gay friend took off in the opposite direction, we decided we might as well head back to the hotel. Night over, sad sad, Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few blocks down, we were freezing our freakin toes off, so I&amp;nbsp;suggested we stop into a very small Tim Horton's to get warm and have some coffee. It was late (2am) and we were finally chilling down and having a chat about the events of the night. Erin's back was to the door when Faris and Groupie walked in, but I&amp;nbsp;saw them. Such a strange and surreal moment, what with us having assumed we'd already said goodnight to our epic adventure. Groupie went into the bathroom (presumably to check her smeared makeup and bloodshot eyeballs, blegh) and Faris came over to say hello again. Unexpected, but very welcome. He shuffled around a bit, asked us if there was anything else to do after hours in the city (to which we said, not really man, 2am is pretty much the limit on that stuff), and then stared at my foot for a few moments before saying &amp;quot;I&amp;nbsp;like your tattoo. I've always wanted to get one that looked like it was drawn with a felt tip pen.&amp;quot; And in my head I was like, THIS TATTOO WAS THE BEST IDEA EVERRR, but my mouth mentioned to him that it probably looked that way because so much of the detail had worn off over the years. Good call, mouth. He said it looked nice anyway. Groupie came out of the bathroom then, and they sat down behind us and had their coffee. We ignored them, mostly, and went back to chatting about life, but politely returned Faris' goodbye as they left. I probably don't even want to know where they went together, but I'm hoping he sent her off in a nice, warm cab to a rehab facility. Seriously, that girl was effed up. I&amp;nbsp;really should have taken a photo of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left shortly after they did so that Erin could skype with her boytoy and pretty much just layed about in my bed until 5:30ish. I didn't get to sleep until 6am. When we got up the next day, we stopped into a MAC store (I&amp;nbsp;bought the most delicious black liquid eyeliner in existence), a few restaurants, an Urban Outfitters, and I&amp;nbsp;mulled about a bookstore or two. In the end, the most expensive thing we ended up spending on was the tattoos we got to memorialize our fabulous fate-y concert experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;&lt;em&gt;we decided on the Horrors boot. the rest of our afternoon was devoted to finding a shop that was relatively cheap but also clean and nice. just as we were about to give up on the whole thing due to a variety of complications and disappointments, we found a really cool shop where the guy was willing to give us a decent deal. he was also a massive Smiths fan, so that's what we listened to for most of our time there. he also let us dick around on his computer and wanted to take us out drinking with his mates and stuff, and i would have totally been up for even more adventure if not for us having to drive home immediately after having our tattoos done.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, was so tempted to stay another night. Unfortunately, I&amp;nbsp;had to open the store at the ass crack of dawn the next morning and I&amp;nbsp;had a really, super long drive back, so as soon as we were finished, we left the city. That tattoo artist was such a doll, a total lover and closet emo-guy with a metalhead facade. I'm heading straight for him the moment we make plans to go back to Toronto; I&amp;nbsp;have lots of ideas to flesh out my brand new tattoo a little bit more, and Erin has wanted to get a Smiths tattoo for a while already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic coming home was completely out of control due to massive construction on the eastbound side of 401. It took me two hours just to get away from the city itself, something that should have taken 15 minutes under normal conditions. I lost my cool and cried a few times because I couldn't get into a good rhythm with the traffic and I was scared and it was dark and and and. I had my mother's car instead of my own, which had its ups and downs (ups: I didn't have to worry about driving standard in the city with all the lights and traffic and peds and my car is leaking some kind of fluid. downs: I was terrified every moment of getting in an accident in a different country with a vehicle that I am not insured to drive), but mostly it just stressed me out. By the time I&amp;nbsp;got out of the city and past the construction, it was dark as hades underpants and my eyes were having a hard time adjusting. Music and warmth tried to put me to sleep, but I was bored without the music and it was so cold outside that opening the window was hardly an option. The only thing that kept me awake through the 7 hour journey was the terror of getting in an accident. Oh, also, my cell phone died about halfway through and that freaked me out a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 1am by the time&amp;nbsp;I pulled into my driveway. I promptly got bitched out by my dad because I didn't call him to let him know why I was getting in so late. I&amp;nbsp;got so pissed that he wouldn't listen to me explain that my phone died that I&amp;nbsp;slammed my hand down on the counter hard enough to bust open all the veins and blood vessels in my palm and thumb. That one hurt like a fucking bitch the next day. And the day after that. Most of it has either healed or stopped hurting, but there was one particularly large vein that burst on the inside of my thumb that's still tender. Bleugh. I think I would have preferred the pain of breaking my hand to the pain of bursting all the blood vessels in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it is today, and I am sad that it's all over. Many photos have been posted to my myspazz and soon to my fazbook, so that's where you should head to if you're interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b315/ohistarveforyou/Musica%20musica/The%20Horrors/Erins%20photos/10216_1107001929304_1654470100_2725.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:165811</id>
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    <title>Marlfox</title>
    <published>2009-10-14T04:39:02Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-14T04:40:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Marley passed on Saturday. She would have been 3 years old in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;was at work when it happened (as I&amp;nbsp;often am these days) so I&amp;nbsp;did not have a chance to think it through much. Dad texted me at 10:10 to let me know she was gone. About thirty minutes later (after he buried her in our rattie graveyard), he let me know that he had realised she was our tenth rat to pass. A few minutes after that, he mentioned she died at ten minutes after the tenth hour of the tenth day of the tenth month... man, if only it was 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I&amp;nbsp;can find about the number ten in numerology is actually quite fitting;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;Ten implies completeness of order, nothing lacking and nothing over. It signifies that the cycle is complete and that everything is in its proper order. Thus ten represents the perfection of divine order.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/July%2008%20Outside/DSCF6012-1.jpg" style="width: 565px; height: 376px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:165050</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-08-25T12:29:00</title>
    <published>2009-08-25T17:24:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-25T17:24:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Heyho, good things this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am making extra cash as I&amp;nbsp;have been promoted.&amp;nbsp;YEAH, I got promoted. I&amp;nbsp;feel like that guy from Office Space who fucks off at his job all day long and somehow still gets promoted. That's me. We (as in, my manager, one ass(istant) man(ager), and I) were moved to the Gamestop in the mall, and the management from the mall moved out to our store. Fucking weird switcheroo, but I'm not complaining as it's fifteen minutes closer to home for me. It's actually a one and a half minute drive for my managers, Jay and silent Bob. That's actually their names. Except for the silent part. Which Bob is, so it's kind of funny either way. Or I thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The search is on for a new vehicle. I'm browsing used cars but really have my sights set on &lt;a href="http://i264.photobucket.com/albums/ii194/mcdilol/DSC01373.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. It's like a tiny, miniature SUV that's so stinkin' cute and gets amazing gas mileage. It drives so sweetly for such a bulky thing, and the entire back three quarters folds flat to accomodate band equipment. It also helps that the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFHCfwF87_o"&gt;commercials&lt;/a&gt; promoting it involved rodents. Might just end up buying an old, manual-transmission'd sunfire that I&amp;nbsp;can beat up for the next few years, though. I don't think I'd ever buy a brand new car that drives stick, but if it's not going to last me more than a few years, I don't see why I shouldn't have fun with it. Additionally, a Giacomo 2.0 could use all of the parts we have left over from the old car. Sort of win-win except that I&amp;nbsp;hate buying stuff pre-owned, and cars are scary when they don't work properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex is finally moving in a few weeks. Like, to the other side of the country. That shouldn't be quite so exciting to me, but it basically means that I can roam across Oswego and the Renfaire anywhere and anytime without trodding on dangerous grounds for the rest of forever. I've hated having to ask &amp;quot;Is Chris going to be here tonight?&amp;quot; before settling in to any bars or parties out there. That also means I&amp;nbsp;can get serious about booking gigs out there. I&amp;nbsp;went to Old&amp;nbsp;City Hall a few weeks ago to set up a gig and found out that four of six nights a week that the bar is open, some band or another that Chris is in plays there. Fucking ridiculous, he's had a monopoly set up on that town for the last two years. No empire no longer. He and the &lt;a href="http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewImage&amp;amp;friendID=21000469&amp;amp;albumID=3046062&amp;amp;imageID=49485679"&gt;girl he cheated on me with&lt;/a&gt; are throwing a &amp;quot;going away&amp;quot; party but I think I&amp;nbsp;might have to throw a &amp;quot;Thank God, maybe she'll stop texting me at all hours of the night with petty, immature stabs at my pride&amp;quot; party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a fun gig coming up this Saturday. I&amp;nbsp;hope it stays fun and doesn't turn into a mess like the last gig did when the brand spankin new amp DIED two songs into my first set. Thankfully the $300 piece of crap was warranteed and all is well now. At the end of September, I'm playing at a festival called Harvestfest. Harvestfest has been slowly growing over the last few years, but has never been anything really worth looking into. However, this year I'll be playing alongside both (allow me to hyperventilate slightly, here) &lt;a href="http://www.rustedroot.com/"&gt;Rusted Root&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.kellerwilliams.net/"&gt;Keller Williams&lt;/a&gt;. WHAT?! Yes. I have been a huge huge huge Root fan for many years so this is a serious honor for me. In addition, though I've never listened to Keller Williams and probably wouldn't recognize any of his songs, he is largely popular across the board and will draw an awful lot of attention. It's big and it's going to be a ton of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice outside and I&amp;nbsp;need some sun. It's freezing in my house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:164728</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-08-13T12:25:00</title>
    <published>2009-08-13T16:46:23Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-14T05:13:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Do not want to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Bleach my roots&lt;br /&gt;Take a shower&lt;br /&gt;Do my laundry&lt;br /&gt;Clean my room&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go for a jog&lt;br /&gt;Create set lists for this weekend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Change my guitar's strings&lt;br /&gt;Tune my guitar&lt;br /&gt;Go to work for the midnight opening of Madden&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to work first thing in the morning tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Play gigs this weekend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to:&lt;br /&gt;Read books all day&lt;br /&gt;Have naturally platinum hair&lt;br /&gt;Get lots of lovin from Mochi the Moose-rat&lt;br /&gt;Have a freakin car&lt;br /&gt;Be rich and famous from music&lt;br /&gt;Be thin aaalllll the time&lt;br /&gt;Go to Europe&lt;br /&gt;Find a way to Renfaire on Sunday as it is the last day&lt;br /&gt;Eat a zonie. Right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not reading enough nonfiction, my brain isn't being exercised and therefor I cannot formulate proper thoughts. Try back next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 622px; height: 466px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Musica%20Musica/Live%20Free%20Fest%2009/DSCF0081.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:163240</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/163240.html"/>
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    <title>No cutsies for your friend page, suckas.</title>
    <published>2009-06-10T18:03:11Z</published>
    <updated>2009-06-10T19:51:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Whenever I&amp;nbsp;start updating, the plethora of stuff that went on makes me feel like word-vomitting and then I don't want to update anymore. I have lots of pictures, too, but I've grown to hate the process of finding and adding them to journal entries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Luna passed Sunday morning; I&amp;nbsp;went in to check on her right after I picked up the new rattie and she was okay. Not great, struggling to breathe, but not panicked. Mum went in not ten minutes later and she was gone. Went very quickly and we were all a little relieved to let the stress go with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 483px; height: 362px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/DSCF1030.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;can't recall if I've mentioned Molly yet, but she's a monster. I got another call from a dumb military wife who thought having rats on base would be cute and then realised, 'Oh, they have NEEDS. I&amp;nbsp;forgot because I'm stupid, which is probably also why I married into the government.' So Molly is here now, and she fucking bites. Not like scared bites, or food bites, but hard, vicious, &amp;quot;I want to take your finger off, stupid human,&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp;bites. My hands are covered in sores in various stages of healing. I'm too stubborn to use gloves with her and she's too stubborn to just... not. Stupid rat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/09%20may%20june/DSCF0143.jpg" style="width: 488px; height: 366px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Molly is only 6 months and everyone else is 1.5+ years, we decided that finding her a similarly aged friend now would be the best option for the future, because she's clearly not going to get any attention if she continues to bite, so having a cage mate is pretty much the only socialising she'll get. That's where Mochaccino comes in. He was homeless, around the right age and, quite frankly, has the cutest face I've seen since Luke-rat, so I&amp;nbsp;was willing to take on another intact rat with an unknown background without too much complaint. Turns out he's the sweetest thing in the world and sleeps all day. Observe;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/09%20may%20june/DSCF0125.jpg" style="width: 467px; height: 351px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/09%20may%20june/DSCF0105.jpg" style="width: 469px; height: 352px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/09%20may%20june/DSCF0109.jpg" style="width: 472px; height: 354px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for some quasi-humour. Here's a literal copy of my shopping receipt from last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 10 lbs of pork necks&lt;br /&gt;- 12 halved pigs feet&lt;br /&gt;- 10 lbs of chicken quarters&lt;br /&gt;- Chicken livers&lt;br /&gt;- Gizzards and hearts&lt;br /&gt;- Halved beef livers&lt;br /&gt;- Ben and Jerry's Americone Dream&lt;br /&gt;- B&amp;amp;J Mission to Marzipan&lt;br /&gt;- B&amp;amp;J Cake Batter&lt;br /&gt;- Morning Star Spicy Black Bean Burger&lt;br /&gt;- Morning Star Tofurkey Dogs&lt;br /&gt;- Morning Star Garden Burgers&lt;br /&gt;- 2 packages of puff pastry&lt;br /&gt;- 1.5 lbs of smoked gouda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My response to the cashier's raised eyebrows? &amp;quot;I don't eat meat, but my dog does.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;We switched the Rone to an all raw diet three weeks ago, which may have been the best thing we've ever done for him. He has a ton of energy and only eats twice a day, versus kibble which he could eat all day and still be hungry because it is all garbage fillers. I'll have to get some photos of him to put up at some point, he looks well fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gathering is in a little over two weeks, and Renfaire begins the week after that. I&amp;nbsp;was planning on making a new skirt/chemise for myself this season in purple tones, but I kept putting it off until I realised that I&amp;nbsp;really didn't want to bother. So I just bought a whole new costume on Etsy for dirt cheap, in earth tones. If I can put enough cash away, I&amp;nbsp;am thinking about buying a brown corsette from Fantasia this summer. I've been eyeing a few things since I&amp;nbsp;bought the black corsette and I think it's time to upgrade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been overcast and raining since April, and before that is had been overcast and snowing since October, so I'm kind of wondering where the fuck summer is and when it will decide to make an appearance, because it's fucking cold here and I've about had it. I almost took a cheap apartment with a cool chick outside Nashville a few weeks ago, but I needed confirmation from the Gamestop managers down there that they could transfer me, and I didn't get it before the security deposit was due on the place. I'll admit it, I cried a little. I was so close to getting out of NY. SO&amp;nbsp;CLOSE. I am a definite for travelling to AR for Castle in November, however, so if anyone wants to go with and spend a loud and chaotic week running around an actual castle in refaire garb, on horses, shooting each other with wooden crossbows and swords, gimme a shout. We have to start practicing killing people or we'll be easy targets for the Family of Doom, yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels like I&amp;nbsp;never left work last week. I was there every. single. day. Ugh. It's not that I don't enjoy the people I work with, it's just that they're way more fun when I&amp;nbsp;only see them once or twice a week. Especially since they're all practically living together now, and I'm the only person they can tell about stuff because I was the only one NOT there. We're getting down to the bare essentials with employees right now; my favourite coworker had to leave to stay with her kids, and my least favourite finally got himself transferred to a different store. So that leaves 6, one manager, three ASMs, Destini and myself. Yeah, try calling in sick when one employee can't work during the day because of school, one is on his only day off that week, one has kids getting off the bus at noon, and the other two are already working different shifts that day. Booo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look, it's lunch time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is more or less what I&amp;nbsp;look like right now (when I bother to curl my hair);&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 377px; height: 502px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/mememe/IMAG0009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:162892</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-23T23:11:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-24T04:19:10Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-24T04:19:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I&amp;nbsp;GRADUATED. I didn't actually go to the ceremony because that would have been a big waste of time, but they should eventually send me some form of diploma. I think. I'm not 100% on that bit yet. Either way, it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a really excellent gig last night, but had a sore jaw when I&amp;nbsp;got home. I&amp;nbsp;chocked it up to sing-yelling with my mouth open too wide (prematurely getting into character for Ross, clearly) then woke up with the God-given knowledge that a wisdom tooth will be attempting to force its way into my mouth in a short while. I can only hope it beats a hasty retreat via surgery and I&amp;nbsp;can get back to gigging, because my musical schedule is filling up fastlike and something big will possibly be happening very soon. I&amp;nbsp;can't say what because I'll look stupid if it doesn't happen, but know that it will probably make me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of things that make me happy, Practical Magic is on tonight. Best. Movie.&amp;nbsp;Ever. Every time I&amp;nbsp;need motivation to stop eating/run until my butt falls off/do cocaine to get skinny, I&amp;nbsp;watch this movie. Unfortunately, it also tempts me to dye my hair dark brown (which would probably be a terrible idea), and grow it out super long (which is not such a bad idea at all). And move to a huge Victorian style house in New England. And adopt some crazy aunts that stay up late and make alcoholic beverages like they're taking over the world. Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="41" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you were interested in seeing the whole briliant movie (in shitty quality), &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHoE4dnJlQE"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;. It will probably be disabled at some point, but for now it is still up. The soundtrack is phenomenal and, even if the ending is a bit out of control, the entire first half is so worth watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luna's still chillin out for now. We also adopted an attack-rat last week from a family that was too dimwitted to care for their pets, so she's been quite the project. Mum named her Molly, and she's evil. She's bit (and drawn blood on) everyone but my brother thus far, so we're handling her with gloves at the moment. She bothers the hell out of Lune so she pretty much lives in her own cage for now, but Remy has taken a shine to her and will defend her from Flake when he gets pushy during playtime. Very cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;am now off to make the first official spiked drink of the season! I&amp;nbsp;have refrained from drinking the last two months so that I&amp;nbsp;could be sharp for finals but that is so over. The kahlua is calling my name...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:162755</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-12T09:19:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-12T13:33:26Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-12T14:21:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I&amp;nbsp;HAVE&amp;nbsp;ONE&amp;nbsp;ESSAY LEFT TO FREEDOM! I&amp;nbsp;start picking up a few extra hours at Gamestop as soon as I'm done at the library (next week), which will not bother me in the least, since working there lately has been almost fun and I'll need something to keep me occupied while Michelle is busy. I'm way too excited about going camping and hiking and biking this summer, but&amp;nbsp;since that will likely happen during the week because Miche works weekends, I'm super looking forward to spending all weekend being a bum around the house, talking about inappropriate things with Ross. Which reminds me, I&amp;nbsp;need to hop in the shower because my appointment to apply for a passport is in two hours(!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor James Snowflake approves of warm weather and green grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Ratties/DSCF1001-1.jpg" style="width: 551px; height: 414px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:162386</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-10T17:33:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-10T22:20:37Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-10T22:20:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Brittany says:&lt;br /&gt;JUST READ THE DAMN CARDS.&lt;br /&gt;Berlioz says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;OKAY&lt;br /&gt;Berlioz says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;OH NO&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;IT SAYS YOU'RE A FAG&lt;br /&gt;Brittany says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;CRAP&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;PUT THEM AWAY&lt;br /&gt;Berlioz says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;OH NO THERES ANOTHER ONE&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;IT SAYS&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;YOU'RE A FAG&lt;br /&gt;Brittany says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;THAT WAS SEKRIT STUPID CARDS.&lt;br /&gt;Berlioz says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;OKAY NEXT CARD &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;IT SAYS&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;JOSH IS A FAG&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;WAIT&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;SORRY&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;WRONG READING&lt;br /&gt;Brittany says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;MAYBE THEY ARE UPSIDE DOWN&lt;br /&gt;Berlioz says:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;OH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, we just finished yelling at each other in German. I'm pretty sure neither of us knew what we were saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gig went well last night. Still have a long final to finish by midnight tonight. Then a paper to write for Soc due by tomorrow night. I'm working at the library all week. The weather has been acceptably nice this week, so I'm going to go ahead and stay in NY for the summer. Saving money is a good thing, I hear.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:161959</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/161959.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-09T15:09:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-09T19:12:22Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-09T19:12:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My Tom's shoes finally came in yesterday (YAY), I'll post a photo later. Then Primary Colours came in today. I&amp;nbsp;love getting packages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I&amp;nbsp;have so much work to finish by Monday and no time, and everything is falling apart with school, and I&amp;nbsp;have a gig tonight that I&amp;nbsp;do NOT want to play, and and and. And it's raining. It was cute for the first half hour, but now it's dismal and depressing and I&amp;nbsp;really just want to crawl into bed with a book and forget that school and music and jobs exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;wonder what would happen if I&amp;nbsp;just blew off my finals. Hmm.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:161778</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/161778.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-04T14:35:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-04T18:44:00Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-04T18:44:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Job interview with a bar this week. Need it.&lt;br /&gt;Horrors on Thursday. Stressful.&lt;br /&gt;Finals all due Wednesday-Friday. Triple stressful.&lt;br /&gt;It's going to rain for the next two weeks. Kill me.&lt;br /&gt;It's sunny outside right now, but I&amp;nbsp;have so much work to do that I&amp;nbsp;can't go out. Ughughugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan is to get signed and start touring before I&amp;nbsp;have to go back to college next fall. PLEASE MAKE ME FAMOUS SO I DON'T HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL EVER AGAIN, LORD OF LORDS. I'll bake you cookies every Sunday! &lt;strike&gt;and then eat them&lt;/strike&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom begins Monday. Glorious Monday. Then I&amp;nbsp;start working a bajillion hours a week and making money so Micha and I&amp;nbsp;can go camping everywhere. Texas/Ark plans are still up in the air. With the weather going as it looks like it may, there's a good chance I'll just pack and leave Monday morning. We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We buried Shake, Joe and Bellatrix on Friday. Still looking for the perfect plant to put on top of Lukey, who will be buried in a large pot so that I can take him when I&amp;nbsp;move. I can't bear to shove him into a grave here and then never return again. Which I will not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:161461</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/161461.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-05-03T09:42:00</title>
    <published>2009-05-03T13:47:58Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-03T13:47:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Post office hours were created to become the bane of a working college student's existance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As was the rule that once you are 21, you are suddenly mature and responsible. What the fuck? I'm outraged that most hotels with decent prices will not rent out rooms to people under 21. Do I&amp;nbsp;look like a crazy party girl to you? I&amp;nbsp;have a credit card, I have a car, I've had a job since I&amp;nbsp;was 14, I've been in college for two years, I&amp;nbsp;CAN&amp;nbsp;VOTE AND JOIN THE FUCKING MILITARY, but I'm not well mature enough to rent a hotel room for another 8 months. Unbelieveable. Don't even get me started on the subject of the drinking age in the US.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:161266</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/161266.html"/>
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    <title>Jailbait.</title>
    <published>2009-04-28T03:11:16Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-28T03:11:16Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Internet%20Crap/jacob.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;fucking would.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:161018</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/161018.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-04-23T09:04:00</title>
    <published>2009-04-23T13:07:38Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-23T13:09:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I went downstairs to nick some muffins from the lobby and some ancient old woman came around the corner to get coffee and greeted me with &amp;quot;Good morning, Little One.&amp;quot; It made me laugh out loud in glee. I&amp;nbsp;wanted to give her a hug.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:160741</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/160741.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-04-23T00:31:00</title>
    <published>2009-04-23T04:32:27Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-23T04:32:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I&amp;nbsp;hate Pennsylvania. I&amp;nbsp;hate Pennsylvania. I hate hate hate Pennsylvania. It's disgusting here. It's cold, it smells, and everything is black. And I&amp;nbsp;miss my rats.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:160291</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/160291.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-04-22T07:45:00</title>
    <published>2009-04-22T12:04:57Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-22T12:04:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Oh look, it's one of those holidays that everyone ignores except me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much work to do, so little time. We're leaving today and Luna is not coming with us like I&amp;nbsp;had planned. I hate the thought of leaving her home while I'm hundreds of miles away, unable to reach her if she needs me. As Bollo would say, I&amp;nbsp;got a bad feeling about this. I&amp;nbsp;seriously need to get off my butt and pack because I&amp;nbsp;signed up to work this afternoon and we'll be leaving literally the moment I&amp;nbsp;get home. I&amp;nbsp;have too many things to get done. My head hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miche and&amp;nbsp;I went to the Dinosaur BBQ to see Turnip Stampede on Monday. Lovely boys, just lovely. Very warm and inviting (there were lots of hugs involved even though we've all just become aquainted), and so talented. Plus, you know, DIno is the best barbeque this side of the Mason Dixon Line, so that's always a delicious adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plans to go to Texas in May are hanging on whether or not I&amp;nbsp;can book some gigs down there. I&amp;nbsp;have no money. Literally, no money. I'm actually about a hundred in debt. One more crisis to deal with when I get back on Saturday. I&amp;nbsp;got a call-back from a bar in Galveston yesterday, which reminds me that I&amp;nbsp;need to get ahold of them. Anyway, the possibility is there, but the reality isn't looking great. Besides the fact that I&amp;nbsp;have to figure out how I'm going to fund my trip to Toronto in two weeks to see the Horrors... and get all of my homework done. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;bought these bright purple, high heeled pirate boots yesterday. Yes I&amp;nbsp;did. I bought them and I&amp;nbsp;intend to find every excuse to wear them as often as possible. Just watch me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y68/baileenhavana/Musica%20Musica/Open%20for%20the%20Niche/DSCF1054.jpg" style="width: 600px; height: 450px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:160166</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/160166.html"/>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-04-20T11:34:00</title>
    <published>2009-04-20T15:35:29Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-20T15:35:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Kooza, museums and warm weather this weekend!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:159880</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/159880.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://liberationmyass.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=159880"/>
    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-04-08T15:03:00</title>
    <published>2009-04-08T19:23:27Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-08T19:23:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The internet, the internet,&amp;nbsp;all my shit plus whatever is left of my kingdom&amp;nbsp;for the internet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day six without. Death is surely imminant. For my classes, anyway. The funny thing about taking online classes and then not having the internet is that you have to really, really want to do the work to get it done and submitted, and I&amp;nbsp;really, really don't give a fuck. I haven't had the motivation to do my classes for several weeks at this point, let alone the motivation to leave my house for foreign lands in the quest for wifi on a daily basis. And YEAH, I&amp;nbsp;didn't realise how much I&amp;nbsp;adored Ross until I&amp;nbsp;couldn't send her obnoxious, inappropriate and often times sexual&amp;nbsp;messages every day. I&amp;nbsp;also didn't realise how chill it is at Micha's house late at night when everyone is trying to do homework. So relaxing. And there are&amp;nbsp;usually scones and tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am currently at the library on campus. I'm going to kill the group of people sitting&amp;nbsp;around me.&amp;nbsp;You are sitting RIGHT&amp;nbsp;NEXT&amp;nbsp;TO&amp;nbsp;EACH&amp;nbsp;OTHER, there is NO&amp;nbsp;NEED&amp;nbsp;TO&amp;nbsp;SHOUT, OKAY?! Fuck's sake, this is a library. If I&amp;nbsp;was on shift, I'd kick&amp;nbsp;their asses&amp;nbsp;out.&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;have to work at Gamestop at 4:30, and I&amp;nbsp;wanted to run earlier, so now I'm in a weird period where I&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;free time and&amp;nbsp;I'm trying to get things done, but I&amp;nbsp;forgot all of my books, and I&amp;nbsp;can't really pr0n with Rossling cause I'm in a very (very) public place on a computer that is not my own, and just GAH&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;WANT&amp;nbsp;MY&amp;nbsp;INTERNET&amp;nbsp;BAAAAACK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;pulled into my driveway last night after finishing homework at Michelle's and then I&amp;nbsp;sat there in my car as the lake-effect snow&amp;nbsp;dumped more snow&amp;nbsp;on the six inches we already had.&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;sat there, and I&amp;nbsp;sat some more, and then I&amp;nbsp;started thinking, How long would it take to pack up the things I&amp;nbsp;would need and get the hell out of here?&amp;nbsp;How much money could it possibly cost me if I&amp;nbsp;just drove off to the southland right this moment? I&amp;nbsp;would empty my clothes into a basket, pack up the tent/sleeping bag/bedding, feed the rats, leave a note about meds for Luna and just go. Ahh, I&amp;nbsp;wanted to. I&amp;nbsp;almost did it. Then I&amp;nbsp;remembered I&amp;nbsp;had snow tires on my car that would melt off before I&amp;nbsp;even hit Kentucky, and I&amp;nbsp;don't get paid until next Thursday, and I&amp;nbsp;have a job until May, and I'd miss the poor ratties I&amp;nbsp;have left, and everything is really just fucked. But all the same, the urge was there and it almost got me.&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, several weeks ago, when the weather was starting to get nice again (before the fucking snow came back), I was on my way home from a gig in Alex Bay and I&amp;nbsp;got distracted and forgot which exit I&amp;nbsp;was coming up to on the interstate. I made an agreement with myself right then; If I've already missed my exit, I'll keep driving until I&amp;nbsp;get to New Orleans. I'll buy clothes when I&amp;nbsp;get there and I'll make due with not having what I've left home until I&amp;nbsp;think I&amp;nbsp;can bear to&amp;nbsp;come back to this horrible, cold, wet place. Then my exit came into view and I&amp;nbsp;got off and I&amp;nbsp;went home, fed the rats, and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the urges to leave are getting stupidly strong, so I'm pretty sure something is going to give soon. I&amp;nbsp;hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;suppose I&amp;nbsp;ought to attempt some homework. Or hate letters to the damned&amp;nbsp;cable company. That sounds much more productive.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:159355</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-03-25T17:42:00</title>
    <published>2009-03-25T21:44:15Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-25T21:44:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">You can not live on cloves and iced coffee.&lt;br /&gt;You can not live on cloves and iced coffee.&lt;br /&gt;You can not live on cloves and iced coffee.&lt;br /&gt;You can not live on cloves and iced coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly because you're broke, but really now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:liberationmyass:158849</id>
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    <title>liberationmyass @ 2009-03-21T20:25:00</title>
    <published>2009-03-22T00:26:33Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-22T00:26:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;lj-embed id="39" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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