<?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-7975570</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:19:15.975-05:00</updated><category term='werid things about me'/><category term='shower'/><category term='dream'/><category term='snow day'/><category term='mri'/><category term='hair'/><category term='cleaning'/><title type='text'>And then she said...</title><subtitle type='html'>One chick and her quest to exploit the power of the written word.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-4693727033561662856</id><published>2007-06-17T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T21:35:01.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Job!</title><content type='html'>Whoo hoo... I start my new job tomorrow at CampWabasso! I'm really excited over the whole thing... so excited I'm guessing I wont sleep very well... which will of course look bad on my first day when I can't stay awake. Hmm... the messes I get myself into!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just a daytime job, I'll be working in the Arts and Crafts cabin, and training starts tomorrow and goes for 2 weeks. The campers dont show up until July... so we'll all be good and smart when it comes to dealing with them. Yay! I'm really excited. It's going to be a new challange, becuase not only is it a wider age range (older and younger) than I'm used to... but it's coed. Eep! I'm used to just girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... off to do some laundry, pick out my first day outfit, and break in my backpack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmh mmhh la la de da de da dah (that's me humming camp songs!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-4693727033561662856?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/4693727033561662856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=4693727033561662856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/4693727033561662856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/4693727033561662856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/06/new-job.html' title='New Job!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-9138803367992212588</id><published>2007-06-12T21:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T22:05:51.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Note On My Mother</title><content type='html'>I have realized in the less than 12 hours since I screamed at my mother and asked her to leave my house for insulting both my husband and just about every person we know, that my relationship with her hasnt changed much over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have that one friend. Someone that if we met at this point in our lives, wouldnt really be our friend, someone who at some point in our lives you had so much in common with that you were so close, that now you can't not be friends... but realize you have little left holding the friendship together other than the fact that your friends. That is my and my mother. Always has been, always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would generally say that no one can upset me like my husband can, and no matter what he does I still love him at the end of the day.  I guess the same can be said for my mother, becuase while I think my side of the situation was right today, I'm sure she sees her side just the same way.  And once again we're at this place where we are so close, but can be so different, and hate each other so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say this about my mother.  My mom rather, I guess I only refer to her as my mother when I'm mad... as if some other word is to follow.  I envy her sometimes. She has never seemed like someone to be walked on. In my portion of her life that I can remember, she never takes no for an answer, and is always willing to fight for her children or for what is right.  Today, at the moment when I hated her most, I felt most like her. It was an odd sense of peace, an odd balance in the world.  For once I was the one standing up like she'd taught me.  Little did I ever expect it to have to be against her.  At least not about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I get to sit here in bed and worry that her drive back home was safe.  Worry about her work and her car and her life.  Becuase as much as I envy her, I know I would never have the strength to be her... and sometimes I wonder how much longer she'll have the strength to be herself too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-9138803367992212588?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/9138803367992212588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=9138803367992212588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/9138803367992212588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/9138803367992212588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/06/note-on-my-mother.html' title='A Note On My Mother'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-3628038997359742028</id><published>2007-04-16T16:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T16:44:42.952-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow day'/><title type='text'>Happy for a snow day</title><content type='html'>Today we have the lovely effects of the coastal stuff going on, and the best part, NO SCHOOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that sounds silly, but it came at a good time. I've just been so run down the past few days, it's nice to have a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But dont worry, I wasnt just a bum, I went to the gym and I'm cleaning the house now.  I even plugged in the ole' clock radio so I can listen to some music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep yep... fun day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-3628038997359742028?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/3628038997359742028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=3628038997359742028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/3628038997359742028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/3628038997359742028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-for-snow-day.html' title='Happy for a snow day'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-1943765228342685890</id><published>2007-04-13T15:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T15:55:45.173-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shower'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='werid things about me'/><title type='text'>Shower power!</title><content type='html'>So I'm curious of something.  Why is it that I can manage to spend a nice looooong time shaving my legs and still miss some hairs.  I know it's silly... and I'm sure it happens to everyone.  But for once, I'd like to step out of the shower, dry my legs off and not go "Oh snap" and have to reach for the razor again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if that's TMI for the blogging world... but I'm pretty sure I've seen worse.  Maybe it's just me... but hair in general is icky.  I hate it if a hair falls of my head and is on my arm or something. Eeeew.  That's the main reason I could never do hair for a living, as cool as it might be.  But ugh... other peoples hair on me... EEP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... now I suppose I should get dressed before I give my neighbors a nice little show!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-1943765228342685890?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/1943765228342685890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=1943765228342685890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/1943765228342685890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/1943765228342685890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/shower-power.html' title='Shower power!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-2841534223472806246</id><published>2007-04-12T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T10:07:48.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so blah right now</title><content type='html'>So I never want to come across as the bad person in a situation.  Generally speaking I try to do what's right, and I try to keep in mind that my actions aren't based on other peoples reactions.  Meaning that the right thing to do when someone is mean to you, is not to be mean back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now I'm so blah.  My head and heart is so heavy.  I'm just overwhelmed with everything that's going on.  I dont want to get into all of it online, but I do feel as if I'm going crazy.  I dont know what I want anymore... actually... that's a lie.  I know what I want, I'm just not sure if it can be "gotten". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for right now, I'm tired of being the grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me... officially announcing the "new lindsey".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Lindsey is different... she's smart and funny just like old lindsey, but she doesnt give into double standards, and she doesn't get walked on.  Oddly enough, this lindsey likes to work out, run, go skinny dipping, drink too much and not regret it in the morning.  That's who the new lindsey is.  New lindsey is pretty, and she likes that. New lindsey has great eyes and is nice to people who are nice back.  New Lindsey is tired of waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said... new Lindsey is still confused. She doesnt know what to do. She's tired of not having a choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-2841534223472806246?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/2841534223472806246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=2841534223472806246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/2841534223472806246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/2841534223472806246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-so-blah-right-now.html' title='I&apos;m so blah right now'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-7754092132361598078</id><published>2007-04-10T21:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T21:11:50.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Drinks later...</title><content type='html'>So last night was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting at TGI Fridays with:&lt;br /&gt;- mango margarita thing&lt;br /&gt;- mojoto&lt;br /&gt;- two shots of tequila&lt;br /&gt;- a red headed dirty word shot&lt;br /&gt;- most of vanessas second drink&lt;br /&gt;and sips of all of jens including a martini and a nasty manhattin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at the bar&lt;br /&gt;- a few beers&lt;br /&gt;- two screwdrivers (well I had two... I dont think I finished the second)&lt;br /&gt;- a vodka and cranberry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All ending in a ride home in jens car where I told her numerous times that "even my feet are drunk"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun fun... crazy girls night on the town. Yay to all the awesome people we met!  I would offer to post the pictures, but they'll be worth lots of money some day if I ever run for office... ha ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-7754092132361598078?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/7754092132361598078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=7754092132361598078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/7754092132361598078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/7754092132361598078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/10-drinks-later.html' title='10 Drinks later...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-4507888969351906536</id><published>2007-04-09T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T10:04:54.405-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mri'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>They say my brain is ok... but</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/RhpT_du-0tI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BJyhrXFSVEM/s1600-h/29BF9482.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051442281827979986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/RhpT_du-0tI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BJyhrXFSVEM/s320/29BF9482.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So according to the nice people at the MRI place my brain is ok.  There's nothing funky going on, things look even, there's no shifting, seperating or masses.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However... I'm not so sure.  Not that I think i'm walking around with a serious brain turmor or anything... I'm just not sure about what's actually going on with my brain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I keep having these really odd dreams.  They're super vivid and I remember just about everything from them.  That's not too odd for me, I've always been able to remember my dreams, but these new ones are SO real and I can feel the emotions of them actually effecting my body!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First example:  I had this dream I was in some other country. I only know it was another country becuase when I tried to call my mom later in the dream, I couldnt becuase I didnt know the country code to call her.  Anyway, I'm on vacation and me and my group are in a building for a class and the building starts getting attacked. So we're all on the floor, I can see the bombs or whatever flying over the building (becuase i"m near a window), windows are broken, we're getting sparks from the eletrical sockets because its raining and the water is hitting them.  And I'm there on the ground praying (I can even remember what I was saying).  Then the military shows up to help us, and there is a serious sense of relief when they show up.  But then... and now we're to the moral of the story... I was wearing flip flops (because I was out sight seeing... why not) and we had to run from the building in the rain, and I wasnt going to be able to run.  In fact we had to do more than run from the building, we were going to have to evacuate the city on foot.  Just weird.  From now on, I'm taking sneakers with me everywhere.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There have been some others, including one with our family friends, and their neighbor was using their hot tub as a birthing pool for a home birth and Ross (the kid in the family i was closest to) came home drunk, Ian the older brother was helping him, and boy is he losing some hair. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then last night... I had a dream justin was coming home, and I wasnt ready.  I was trying to find an outfit, and it was just weird.  I think (this part is a little fuzzy) that there was some other girl there wanting him to come home too... but it was weird. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway... I think the lesson from that dream was "I need to go shopping so I have something pretty for when my husband comes home"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-4507888969351906536?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/4507888969351906536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=4507888969351906536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/4507888969351906536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/4507888969351906536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/they-say-my-brain-is-ok-but.html' title='They say my brain is ok... but'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/RhpT_du-0tI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BJyhrXFSVEM/s72-c/29BF9482.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-3313192829038063373</id><published>2007-04-06T14:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T22:06:36.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"I dont want to... if you dont want to..."</title><content type='html'>"But I want to!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the last lines of one of the songs off my new Sugarland CD... and they kinda speak to me.  I know that sounds silly "ooh the words speak to you" but at the same time, there's something I like about.  I think it speaks truly of human nature.  You might want something, but only if you don't have to admit you want it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song in particular is talking about a relationship, that might happen, or might not.  Almost everyone has been in the position of being attracted to someone but not wanting to admit it for fear of rejection.  I guess I can just see so many times in my life where I was too afraid to really go for something I wanted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are a couple other lines I like, "I've got your ring around my neck and a couple of nights I dont regret" and "You've got a dream of a degree and a shirt that smells like me" it's nice becuase they manage to give me an image without sounding cliche.  Because I'm a huge fan of not regreting things... plus I'm such a smell person.  Not to be confused with a smelly person... but I can remember smells and events and people like I was with them yesterday.  I can still remember how my moms best friend smelled, and she died when I was 9.  I can remember how our best family friends while I was growing up garage smelled (we'd always go in through the garage door). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I guess the alternate title for this post could be "The song and idea stuck in my head right now... and how that will get me talking about how things smell"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... enough from me... I'm sleepy... and rambling...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-3313192829038063373?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/3313192829038063373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=3313192829038063373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/3313192829038063373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/3313192829038063373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-dont-want-to-if-you-dont-want-to.html' title='&quot;I dont want to... if you dont want to...&quot;'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-7416558465269313615</id><published>2007-03-23T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T23:42:10.137-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fingers crossed!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok... so as of today, I've applied for six yes six new jobs.  There is one more that I want to apply for, but it's for the same company that I just sent off a resume to today, and I don't want them to get confused and accidently exclude me. Plus, although it's a job I would LOVE... I'm not quite as qualified as I would like to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets recap... In order of what I want!&lt;br /&gt;- Assignment Editor at WWNY... just sent my resume and awesome cover letter today&lt;br /&gt;- Photojournalist at WWNY... this is the one I'm afraid to apply to... I'm such a baby!&lt;br /&gt;- Program Secretary at Cornell Coop Ext Co... they run all the community education stuff in town, sent resume a couple days ago... love the work they do, plus AWESOME pay!&lt;br /&gt;- Arts Program Director at the 4-H camp near here... I miss working at a summer camp... sigh... plus it just sounds like a nice fun low stress job.&lt;br /&gt;- Switchboard Operator at Watertown Daily Times... about as far from working in journalism as you can get and still be working for the company... at least if I was the janitor I'd touch the actual papers... lol! But nice hours&lt;br /&gt;- Recptionist at Dentist Office... I'm totally qualified, and have an interview on thrusday... but again... I'd just be answering phones, not really any room for advacement.&lt;br /&gt;- Trading Post director at the GS camp... but I heard back and the position is filled, I was offered a position as a regular counselor, but I cant stay overnight becuase of the puppies... so it's not an option anymore :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are them... Really I'd love the Editor job.  I can see it working so well for me and my long term goals... which at least for right now are to study photography and journalism.  Plus I'd be really proud to say what I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway... fingers crossed, prayers, well wishes... I'll take whatever ya got!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-7416558465269313615?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/7416558465269313615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=7416558465269313615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/7416558465269313615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/7416558465269313615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/03/fingers-crossed.html' title='Fingers crossed!!!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-8237002347596342594</id><published>2007-02-25T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T23:11:54.765-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things in my head right now...</title><content type='html'>For once I'd like to be the one in my life that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; have to fix things. &lt;br /&gt;The one that doesn't have the be the grown up and end the fight.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to be the one that doesn't call the plumber when the disposal gets jammed.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be the to have to figure out how to make us get along again.&lt;br /&gt;I hate being the type of girl that lets guys get away with things.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being a better friend then my friends are to me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done always wondering in the back of my mind what people are really thinking.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be the only one that shows up when things are bad.&lt;br /&gt;For once I'd like to just call in sick when I'm just not feeling like showing up.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be as catty as some and only spend time with people when I'm not getting along with others.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;vacuum&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like how I feel when people tell me how lucky I am and I have to question them in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't have to fake it.&lt;br /&gt;God dammit I wish I could trust you.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it always me that feels like throwing up after a fight.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish things were the same as they were when we were kids... so there were free do-overs.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't still worry about what my mom thinks of me.&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I turn the spare bedroom into a darkroom? Isn't that what curtains are made for anyway?&lt;br /&gt;I want my life to be like a movie... sad in the beginning but happy by the end.  And with a professional hair and makeup crew.&lt;br /&gt;I wish all the pictures in my head could come out on paper.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be just a wife.&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to hate the smell of popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone ever listen to what I'm saying?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-8237002347596342594?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/8237002347596342594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=8237002347596342594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/8237002347596342594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/8237002347596342594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/02/some-things-in-my-head-right-now.html' title='Some things in my head right now...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-8193598543107113147</id><published>2007-02-20T23:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T23:57:05.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>when I grow up...</title><content type='html'>Finally it came to me.  I decided what I wanted to major in... Studio Art with a minor in Creative Writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems so fun, it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;certainly&lt;/span&gt; what I love to do.  I love my photography class, and have always had a place in my heart for art.  Aside from my preschool stint as a cow, my first real career choice was to be an art teacher.  However at this point, I'm not sure if I'd want to teach... or if I'd be happier just being an artist.  Selling my pictures and jewelry at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hippy&lt;/span&gt; art fairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However after reading some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt; pages of my old friends (most from camp) I was inspired to see what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;environmental&lt;/span&gt; options my "dream school" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wellesley&lt;/span&gt; College has to offer.  I'm planning on applying to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wellesley&lt;/span&gt; next spring (for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;neeexxxt&lt;/span&gt; fall) to finish up my degree.  From their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Environmental&lt;/span&gt; Studies page, they list what previous graduates of the program are doing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other jobs and fellowships:&lt;br /&gt;Environmental Consulting&lt;br /&gt;Environmental &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Grantmaking&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Surdna&lt;/span&gt; Foundation)&lt;br /&gt;Working at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Curu&lt;/span&gt; National Wildlife Refuge in Costa Rica&lt;br /&gt;Documentary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Filmmaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third Grade Teaching&lt;br /&gt;High School Teaching&lt;br /&gt;Natural Resources Defense Council&lt;br /&gt;Cheese making&lt;br /&gt;Watson Fellowship&lt;br /&gt;Environmental Journalism&lt;br /&gt;Working for the National Parks Service&lt;br /&gt;Working for Outward Bound&lt;br /&gt;Peace Corps Volunteer&lt;br /&gt;Working for the Chicago Environmental Commission&lt;br /&gt;Working for the Maine Natural Areas Commission&lt;br /&gt;California Audubon Society Intern&lt;br /&gt;Working at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Instituto&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Nauraleza&lt;/span&gt; y la &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Sociedad&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Oaxaca&lt;br /&gt;Organic Farming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Geoscience&lt;/span&gt; research&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EVERY SINGLE one of those sounds so awesome to me.  Even the ones that I have no idea what they are.  And I suddenly remember back to my second career choice in life... I wanted to be a Camp Counselor and then eventually be Camp Director at my beloved &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;CML&lt;/span&gt;.  However, the reality of paying rent and such sunk in, and I had to move on to a different phase in my life.  However there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; a single time I catch a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;whiff&lt;/span&gt; of a pine tree and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; think back and wish I was there, driving down bear creek road and singing camp songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet another option keeps popping into my mind.  Since I've spent crazy amounts of time in the doctors office and hospital &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;lately&lt;/span&gt;, I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;discovered&lt;/span&gt; the pang (is that the word &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; looking for) in my heart for the medical field.  Of course this started from watching too much ER (mind you this was the same time frame that watching Mission Impossible made me want to be a spy) and the idea always stayed with me.  At one point in my previous college career I was actually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-med (and then for a very scary time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-med and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-law)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads to the other childhood ambition... I wanted to be a lawyer. Not really something I want to do anymore. There are enough lawyers in the world. Plus it doesn't fit into one of the two "career requirement" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;categories&lt;/span&gt; for me, since it is neither "super easy and fun" nor "making a difference in the world".  Not that there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt; lawyers out there doing good... I can just see greater &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;possibilities&lt;/span&gt; in other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway. You may notice a trend in my recent postings. I'm going through changes. I'm not sure what's going on in my head half the time. Hopefully this will all pass and a week or so from now I'll have decided to work at the movie theatre forever and learn to embrace the snowy life I live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly the greatest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;challenge&lt;/span&gt; with all of this is that I'm not just thinking for me.  Before I could decide to pick up and move or change schools, or live in the woods for three months.  But now I have a family (as small and furry as it might be) and that changes things.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;... maybe I just need to sleep in the backyard every once in awhile and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;that'll&lt;/span&gt; take care of things. Blah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough from me! Can we all just take a vote and tell me what to do with my life! That would be a great help... thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-8193598543107113147?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/8193598543107113147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=8193598543107113147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/8193598543107113147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/8193598543107113147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/02/when-i-grow-up.html' title='when I grow up...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-6794894287290113212</id><published>2007-02-16T16:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T17:19:57.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Selfish Feelings</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like the most crazy selfish lady in the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the truth is it all stems from wanting to be happy.  While I realize that there isn't anyone I know or care about who doesn't want me to be happy, I find myself in situations where in order to be happy I would have to hurt these same people.  Or why is is that sometimes the things that would make me happiest in life go against everything I've really achieved over the past few years of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't quite mean buying shoes when you should be saving money, it's nothing that simple.  It's deeper life changing choices, that I sometimes feel trapped into making the opposite decision that I want to.  Why does everything have to be so dependant on everything else.  Why can't plans work out the way you make them.  Why can't everything I ever wanted out of life really be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last line reminds me of something people used to say to me.  When I went off to college the first time (at 16 and although I had everything I needed to be an amazing success, I fucked up) people would often ask me what I wanted to do.  I loved this question, but often found it impossible to answer.  What didn't I want to do?  I wanted to be a lawyer, and join the Peace Corps, be in a band, and change the world.  All the people that asked me that question would have a similar response, some sort of chuckle and a comment about how young I was.  But is it really that crazy to want to make a difference.  I remember making a list of everything I wanted, things like leaving a mark on the world, changing peoples ideas about things, enjoying every part of the journey I was on.  It was quite a list, and now here I am, almost seven years since I was that blue eyed idealistic virgin steping onto my college campus thinking I could actually do it all.  Possibly I had never experienced failure.  Or perhaps I didn't realize at the time that the best thing about being a kid is that your parents (my mom in my case) can solve everything.  It's even possible that I didn't realize how bad screwdrivers made from tang in a frat house were, and that they weren't worth missing class and studying for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that same person somehow became me.  Not that I'm all that unhappy with who I am.  Most people would be happy with it.  I have an amazing husband, I have a part time job that is actually tolleralbe, I go to and do well in school... but there's part of me missing.  It's seems like everything about my life that I'm proud of have nothing to actually do with me.  My husband would be awesome even if he hadn't married me.  A job is just a job, and as for school... it's a community college dammit... it's not as if I can really feel like I'm achieving anything.  Like all the cool things I'd been telling myself about myself were lies... or they arent true anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I've become the girl with a good life who sits in her dinning room staring out at a town she hates living in, living an ordanary life, and doing nothing to change it except posting to a blog that a whopping 3 people might read.  Oh yes, this is my dream life.  I just wish I could change the conditions of my life, but not the substance.  I love my friends, I love being in school, I love Justin and our dogs.  I just wish sometimes it didn't feel like I'm torn between them and the person I always had every intention of becoming, I just got distracted along the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-6794894287290113212?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/6794894287290113212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=6794894287290113212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/6794894287290113212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/6794894287290113212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/02/crazy-selfish-feelings.html' title='Crazy Selfish Feelings'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-117054340913453949</id><published>2007-02-03T17:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T17:56:49.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Blower Angel</title><content type='html'>So as I'm there, feeling anything like trudging through the second half of my driveway (a couple feet deep in snow) there she comes... walking down the street with her snowblower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now technically, we're supposed to have on at every other house in the neighborhood, and you can borrow it whenever you need it. However, you have to take the special class that never seems to happen, and the blowers are in fact few and far between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This nice lady got rid of the uckie deep snow that was causing me headaches and then went on her way.  Yay snow blower lady!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-117054340913453949?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/117054340913453949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=117054340913453949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/117054340913453949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/117054340913453949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/02/snow-blower-angel.html' title='Snow Blower Angel'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-117027852079319833</id><published>2007-01-31T16:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T16:22:00.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay For Snow!</title><content type='html'>Ok... only time anyone ever says this... it's cause classes were cancelled. So I was safe warm and sound long before the four feet of snow we're supposed to get tonight hits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still cold. But at least not scary driving, which is never a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-117027852079319833?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/117027852079319833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=117027852079319833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/117027852079319833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/117027852079319833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/yay-for-snow.html' title='Yay For Snow!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116898549127895439</id><published>2007-01-16T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T17:11:31.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Step step splash!</title><content type='html'>So Friday night, I come home... and my internet won't work.  No problem I think, I'll just reset the box-thingie in the office.  Since I never work at my desk anymore... it's a pain to reset the thingie, but of course with Justin gone I'm addicted to the "check mail" button on my desktop.  So off I go and as I step over the giant annoying pile of laundry-to-do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPLASH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I think "what on earth did I spill" but then I soon realize that almost half the bedroom is flooded.  Not like things floating from one end to the other, but to the point that whenever I take a step, some nice icy water comes up and over my foot.  At first I think the window is broken or something, after all it had been raining all day.  But then I realize that it must be something else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I end up spending three hours sucking up water with my carpet cleaner until I finally find the emergency number for maintenance and have them come out.  The nice guy then spends a couple hours sucking up more water with his machine and cutting a nice hole in my wall.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out a pipe cracked (not frozen, just wore out in a joint) and he could tell it had happened before from the drywall. Sigh... such a fun night I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst part is, I had been shopping like crazy all day, and once I go shopping my favorite thing to do is take everything out of the bags and look at it, cut the tags off, and put them away.  And this stupid flood got in the way of all that.  Stuff still sits in bags today because I guess it's a same day rush.  Now it just sounds like work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wet and sloshy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116898549127895439?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/116898549127895439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=116898549127895439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116898549127895439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116898549127895439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/step-step-splash.html' title='Step step splash!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116889390931323960</id><published>2007-01-15T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T15:45:09.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah day</title><content type='html'>I hate the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice and all that crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More talkie later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116889390931323960?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/116889390931323960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=116889390931323960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116889390931323960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116889390931323960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/blah-day.html' title='Blah day'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116883333148143311</id><published>2007-01-14T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T22:55:31.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PS3 vs. Wii</title><content type='html'>&lt;table xmlns="http://purl.org/atom/ns#" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="" id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-9136575504838642038&amp;amp;hl=en" style="width:400px; height:326px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr/&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;I am so easily amused!  Did I mention that we owned a Wii for a few short hours? Long story.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116883333148143311?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/116883333148143311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=116883333148143311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116883333148143311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116883333148143311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/ps3-vs-wii.html' title='PS3 vs. Wii'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116883266343680823</id><published>2007-01-14T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T22:44:23.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling the need for a diaper debate!</title><content type='html'>I'm curious how many people start using cloth diapers but then change their mind because disposables are easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin and I don't have kids yet, but I decided awhile ago that whenever we do, I want to use cloth diapers. It all started when I saw the commercial for &lt;a href="http://www.pull-ups.com/na/products/coolalert.asp"&gt;Cool Alert Pull-Ups &lt;/a&gt;. Something about this drives me crazy! All I can think is... "I don't want a chemical reaction in my child's diaper!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, whenever I tell someone my plan, they look at me with this what-the-heck-are-you-thinking-crazy-lady look. In fact the last time I had this conversation with my mother she told me that she doubts it will last, after I have a screaming baby in one hand and a dirty diaper I have to rinse off in the other, that I'll be begging for disposable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until today, I always thought this was crazy. I could handle it... I'm awesome... I'm going to breast feed and make my own baby food... UNTIL TODAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked to the bathroom again, with a wad of TP around doggy poo for the tenth time today... I am beginning to doubt how well I'll really do with diapers I have to wash myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh... my cruchy momma dreams are heading out the window.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116883266343680823?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/116883266343680823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=116883266343680823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116883266343680823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116883266343680823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/feeling-need-for-diaper-debate.html' title='Feeling the need for a diaper debate!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116855525611892856</id><published>2007-01-11T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T22:29:06.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Confession</title><content type='html'>So... I've got a secret. I've been blog-stalking! I realize it's horrible... and I'll admit that I even feel a little creepy sometimes. The worst part is that I sometimes feel like posting on the blogs I lurk on... but then start to wonder if these people really do want me posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am making a promise to myself... I will start replying on peoples blogs. I've become so attached to some of these blogs that I tell stories to people about my "friends".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow I need to get out more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116855525611892856?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/116855525611892856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=116855525611892856' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116855525611892856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116855525611892856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/secret-confession.html' title='Secret Confession'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116855037102504323</id><published>2007-01-11T15:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T16:19:31.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Graph Paper!</title><content type='html'>Just a strange tidbit about myself. I love graph paper, and truth be told just about any other office supply. Pens, tape, colored staples, all things binder related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started back to school last fall, I wasted countless amounts of time planning and dreaming about the supplies I would need. I decided to have a binder for each class, with dividers for class notes, book notes, graded assingments and class information.  I'm sure my husband will remember all too well how much time I spent in Wal-Mart and Staples picking out the prefect things.  My friend Sarah was super sweet as always and sent me a "Happy Back To School" box with preppy plaid binders, mini candy colored highlighters, and those pencils that you remember from your childhood that had the little pieces of lead that you moved back to the bottom when they were dull. &lt;a href="http://img.alibaba.com/photo/50500758/6pc_Non_Sharpening_Pop_Pencil_Set.jpg"&gt;Like these!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graph paper is a little different then it's office supply counterparts.  It's one of those things that you dont just think to have around the house until you need it.  Like a bucket to keep by the bed when you're sick... you don't think to just have one of those around.  As a matter of fact for those mop-challanged-swiffer users like me, there is no use to have a bucket in your house at all.  I'm sure most people aquire one over the years, but if you are semi-newly married like Justin and I, it's just not something you have around when emergency strikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now that I've put that lovely image in your head, I will share what makes me yearn for some graph paper. The blog of a self proclaimed Very Obesessed Gardener and her &lt;a href="http://mama2-3girls.blogspot.com/2007/01/sneak-preview.html"&gt;plans&lt;/a&gt; for her upcoming garden. Doesn't that make you want to clear off the kitchen table and plan something out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too cold to think about gardening here yet, and we're not sure if we're staying in this house. If justin will reenlist, or if I'll head to school somewhere else. So I hate to do anything permenant.  Perhaps I will plan out what furnitre we'll be buying from IKEA when he gets home. I really do love to make plans. Yet another weird thing about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116855037102504323?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116855037102504323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116855037102504323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-love-graph-paper.html' title='I Love Graph Paper!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116793746265392713</id><published>2007-01-04T14:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T14:04:22.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A drawing by me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bored.com/drawthings/save.php?id=272339"&gt;http://www.bored.com/drawthings/save.php?id=272339&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently an evaluation of my personality based on it. Fun... fun... fun...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116793746265392713?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116793746265392713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116793746265392713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2007/01/drawing-by-me.html' title='A drawing by me!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-116734743654345093</id><published>2006-12-28T18:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T18:10:36.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye Baby...</title><content type='html'>So my hubby left today for somewhere overseas.  He's in the army.  Take a wild guess where he went. This just totally sucks. Realy it does. Blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I plan to post the calendar that I decorate for us. We'll be mailing it back and forth and crossing off the days as that have passed since the last person had it.  It's a deployment idea that I read to help kids cope with the idea of passing time... so I suppose I'm just a kid... because I think it will help me too. It will be nice to actually see how many days go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just wanted to make sure my blog still worked before I started planned too much to post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;sad and bummed and alone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-116734743654345093?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116734743654345093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/116734743654345093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2006/12/bye-bye-baby.html' title='Bye Bye Baby...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-112005608814139195</id><published>2005-06-29T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T09:41:28.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Workin in a coal mine...</title><content type='html'>Well might as well be. I'm working... and dont want to anynore... really I'm ready to quit and go live in a hut in the woods and spend my days rocking back and forth in the corner going "noooooo mooooore paperrrrrr" "noooooooo moooooore scrrrrraaaaapboooookss" over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... can I bring a sleeping bag? If so... I'm good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway... enough of this diversion... back to work with my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-112005608814139195?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/112005608814139195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=112005608814139195' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/112005608814139195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/112005608814139195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/workin-in-coal-mine.html' title='Workin in a coal mine...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111892344249438431</id><published>2005-06-16T07:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T07:04:02.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving... oh a jet plane</title><content type='html'>Well not really... in my ford taurus is more like it.  I'm off to DC today for a show, and to see my Ginger and Adam. Whoo hoo... wish me luck at the event!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111892344249438431?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111892344249438431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111892344249438431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/leaving-oh-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving... oh a jet plane'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111881201688538056</id><published>2005-06-15T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T00:53:23.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My boyfriend came to visit me!</title><content type='html'>Whooo hooo...&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy, only a little sad cause Justin just left, but it was an fun time. He drove up to Raleigh (where I've been staying at my moms boyfriends "my new daddy" lol) And we went to dinner at Five Guys, which has Awesome Burgers... and really good fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only bad thing was that I made a slight mis-hap in my directions, so he got a lil lost on the way to pick me up. But it's ok... he finally made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now he's on his way back to Ft.Bragg :( Sad Lindsey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you baby!&lt;br /&gt;Oh... and the rest of you too...&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111881201688538056?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111881201688538056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111881201688538056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111881201688538056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111881201688538056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-boyfriend-came-to-visit-me.html' title='My boyfriend came to visit me!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111881254898442988</id><published>2005-06-14T18:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T00:58:07.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Websites</title><content type='html'>Since I'm a virgo, I love making lists... sometimes lists about lists... scary huh&lt;br /&gt;But I figured I was kinda slightly bored, and would post a list of my favorite websites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here they are in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cinchouse.com"&gt;www.cinchouse.com&lt;/a&gt; military wives and girlfriends etc... I AM addicted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hugs4militaryloved1.com"&gt;www.hugs4militaryloved1.com&lt;/a&gt; I think that's it... I usually link to it from my email, another military wives site, and elly would kill me if I didnt post it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.redenvelope.com"&gt;www.redenvelope.com&lt;/a&gt; awesome gifts and stuff like that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.uncommongoods.com"&gt;www.uncommongoods.com&lt;/a&gt; another gift etc site... uber nifty stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com"&gt;www.urbanoutfitters.com&lt;/a&gt; other then being my all time favorite clothing store... i LOVE the home decor stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ikea.com"&gt;www.ikea.com&lt;/a&gt; the best store in the world to buy furnature in my humble opinion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.superslacker87.blogspot.com"&gt;www.superslacker87.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; my boyfriends blog... whoo hoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.findyourspot.com"&gt;www.findyourspot.com&lt;/a&gt; you can type in things you like about a place to live, and they'll tell you what cities you should live in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yahoo.com"&gt;www.yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt; not because I really like it, but it gets me to my email which I love getting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.armcandyjewels.com"&gt;www.armcandyjewels.com&lt;/a&gt; my future jewelry website&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... that's it. Now I know Justin will pop on saying somthing about how I can make the links prettier not the whole www. thing... but ya know what... i dont care. What if someone wanted to write down the link for later.... huh... did ya ever think about that smart guy... did ya... huh huh huh???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... swoo... well then... moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure i Love some other websites too... but that's really all I can think of for now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugs y'all&lt;br /&gt;Have a rare day!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111881254898442988?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111881254898442988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111881254898442988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111881254898442988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111881254898442988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-favorite-websites.html' title='My Favorite Websites'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111863579498628799</id><published>2005-06-12T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T23:11:04.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did some re-decorating</title><content type='html'>Hope y'all like it... I think it's really... pink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha ha... yep I'm a dork. But I was getting a little tired of the skater boy looking old blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are ways to design your own... but I'm not that computer smartsy fartsy. Cause I wasnt too fond of any of the choices. Hmm... of I bet I can find some online... interesting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111863579498628799?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111863579498628799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111863579498628799' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111863579498628799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111863579498628799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/did-some-re-decorating.html' title='Did some re-decorating'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111861786404002622</id><published>2005-06-12T18:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T23:12:47.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I hate</title><content type='html'>Figured I'd share... cause I'm sure all of you are dying to know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being left out&lt;br /&gt;Eggplant&lt;br /&gt;Loud chewers&lt;br /&gt;People who talk on their cell phones when you're around&lt;br /&gt;Cheap beer&lt;br /&gt;When my hairs all frizzy&lt;br /&gt;How hard it is for some people to get ahead in life&lt;br /&gt;How easy it is for others&lt;br /&gt;When you play phone tag&lt;br /&gt;When a light bulb burns out&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate (most of it at least)&lt;br /&gt;Things wrapped in leaves&lt;br /&gt;Funky lettuce&lt;br /&gt;Flat diet coke&lt;br /&gt;People who refuse to work&lt;br /&gt;Bad drivers&lt;br /&gt;New Car smell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there's more.. and I'll add as I think of them... but for now that's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111861786404002622?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111861786404002622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111861786404002622' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111861786404002622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111861786404002622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/things-i-hate.html' title='Things I hate'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111861742880659327</id><published>2005-06-12T18:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T18:03:48.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a girlfriend whom I love, even though she rarely updates her blog.</title><content type='html'>Ok... So I'm sitting here reading my boyfriends blog... and realize that he's changed his little part on the side that talks about him (little part is the technical term)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And realized that he talks about me... and since I love  it when people talk about me, as it further proves my theory that the world does in fact revolve around me... it made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... it moved me to post. Not much mind you... but something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you too baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111861742880659327?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111861742880659327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111861742880659327' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111861742880659327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111861742880659327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-have-girlfriend-whom-i-love-even.html' title='I have a girlfriend whom I love, even though she rarely updates her blog.'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-111696675891107994</id><published>2005-05-24T15:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T15:32:38.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my boyfriend</title><content type='html'>I just felt like it had to be said in writting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my boyfriend. He really makes me happier then I ever thought he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Justin Miller... no matter what, you know it's true. I am completly and totally in love with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-111696675891107994?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/111696675891107994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=111696675891107994' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111696675891107994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/111696675891107994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-love-my-boyfriend.html' title='I love my boyfriend'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110968809608398740</id><published>2005-03-01T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T09:41:36.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It feels like today....</title><content type='html'>Ok, I know I'm not the only one that loves that song. Makes me cry actaully... if you've ever seen the video for it, you know why. It's just very touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just felt like posting my to-do list.&lt;br /&gt;-Laundry&lt;br /&gt;-Pack ( i leave for san jose in the morning)&lt;br /&gt;-Go to AC Moore&lt;br /&gt;-Make signs&lt;br /&gt;-Make product&lt;br /&gt;-Go to the stupid Shark place&lt;br /&gt;-Pay phone bill (i'd like to have a phone when I get home)&lt;br /&gt;-Look up locations for everything we'll need in cali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That might be about it... I wonder if I'll get it all done.... hmmm.. we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day everyone!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110968809608398740?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110968809608398740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110968809608398740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110968809608398740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110968809608398740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/03/it-feels-like-today.html' title='It feels like today....'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110961993448007032</id><published>2005-02-28T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T14:45:34.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite part...</title><content type='html'>Of my favorite book... from my favorite bookstore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On Love:&lt;br /&gt;    The strange thing about love is that it can make your heart beat faster, and the strange thing about love is that it can make you laugh and then cry. The strange thing about love is that it's uneven: in this life, you may be loved by someone you don't love back, and you may love someone who doesn't return your love.&lt;br /&gt;    The strange thing about love is tht it's always worth it, and the strange thing abou tlove is that it is always there somewhere in your life. The strange thing about love is that you have to believe in it for it to be true, and the strange thing about love is that, even if it's a different story then you expected, somehow it all works out.&lt;br /&gt;    Love is strange, isn't it? But trust in it... and you will be all right"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110961993448007032?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110961993448007032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110961993448007032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110961993448007032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110961993448007032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/my-favorite-part.html' title='My favorite part...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110960196880742162</id><published>2005-02-28T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T09:46:08.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome Show!</title><content type='html'>So I figured I'd let y'all know how Cali went. It was INCREDILBE. Other then totally killing my hand when we were tearing down our booth... it was great. It was our top sales show ever... so yes... I'm happy. On our way back though, we missed our flight so we had to spend an extra day in cali. So we went shopping, got our nails done, and got our hair cut. Yep, it was rough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And looking forward to next weeks... which is in San Jose. I'll post more about that later... just wanted to update y'all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110960196880742162?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110960196880742162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110960196880742162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110960196880742162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110960196880742162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/awesome-show.html' title='Awesome Show!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110838646942410021</id><published>2005-02-14T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T08:07:49.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Singles Awareness Day!</title><content type='html'>He he he... Happy Valentines Day to everyone out there. And I've officially decided that Elly is the only person I know that is allowed to pout today. (Her sweetie is deployed) Well... her and all my cinc friends. But that's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My romantic plans for the day... Work... whoo hoo... But I will wear pink and red so I look festive. Other then that, it's just more work, we've got alot to do before I head to cali on wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugs and Kisses to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110838646942410021?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110838646942410021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110838646942410021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110838646942410021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110838646942410021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/happy-singles-awareness-day.html' title='Happy Singles Awareness Day!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110815910143227590</id><published>2005-02-11T16:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-11T16:58:21.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog for the sake of blog</title><content type='html'>Or rather post for the sake of a post. Hadnt updated in awhile and figured I should, but now that I'm here, all my typing inspiration is gone. Hmmm.. maybe I'll be back later with something better... but for now... it's a totally pointless post all about nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110815910143227590?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110815910143227590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110815910143227590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110815910143227590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110815910143227590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/blog-for-sake-of-blog.html' title='Blog for the sake of blog'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110775030047777538</id><published>2005-02-06T23:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T09:21:11.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From elly!</title><content type='html'>Ok... got this from elly and now I'm moving it on... more then you ever wanted to know about me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your full name? Lindsey Marie Kensington&lt;br /&gt;2. What color pants are you wearing? Um... none&lt;br /&gt;3. What are you listening to right now? Jeremy yackin on the phone&lt;br /&gt;4. What's the last thing you ate? Cheddar and sour cream potato chips&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you wish on stars? Yep... all the time&lt;br /&gt;6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Pink... a pretty pink&lt;br /&gt;7. How is the weather right now? Dark and cool&lt;br /&gt;8. Last person you talked to on the phone? Jeremy... right now... before that Poodle&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you like the person who sent you this? Of course&lt;br /&gt;10. How are you today? Not too bad.... sorta crappy... but I've been worse&lt;br /&gt;11. Favorite drink? Diet Coke... or vodka and red bull&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite sport? Lacrosse and tennis&lt;br /&gt;13. Hair color? Brown with a bit of some chemical red left&lt;br /&gt;14. Eye color? Blue... sometimes green&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you wear contacts? Yep... sure do&lt;br /&gt;16. Siblings? Not really.&lt;br /&gt;17. Favorite month? September!&lt;br /&gt;18. Favorite food? Beef &amp; Potato Burritos rule... or pizza... or anything&lt;br /&gt;19. Last movie you watched? Stepmom is on now... and before that american president&lt;br /&gt;20. Favorite day of the year? September 17th&lt;br /&gt;22. What do you do to vent anger? Yell... cry... slam the door&lt;br /&gt;23. What was your favorite toy as a child? Barbies&lt;br /&gt;24. Summer or Winter? Summer... I hate cold weather&lt;br /&gt;25. Hugs or Kisses? Kisses... mmmm... and hugs... ok... I like both. Unless it's with a bad kisser.&lt;br /&gt;26. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla&lt;br /&gt;27. Do you want your friends to write/e-mail back? Yes.. but they wont&lt;br /&gt;28. Who is most likely to respond? No one&lt;br /&gt;29. Who is least likely to respond? Anyone&lt;br /&gt;30. Living arrangements? Me and "roomate"&lt;br /&gt;31. When was the last time you cried? Few hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;32. What is under your bed? All the stuff I dont want people to find&lt;br /&gt;33. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Fishstick!&lt;br /&gt;34.What did you do last night? Talked online, worked some, talked to poodle, and then mark woke me up.&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite smells? Used to be poodle... but I love the smell of my dryer sheets... and my perfume.&lt;br /&gt;36. What inspires you? The desire to be better.&lt;br /&gt;37. What scares you? Hights, spider, being alone.&lt;br /&gt;38. Plain, Buttered or Salted Popcorn? Tons of butter and salt!&lt;br /&gt;39. Favorite car? BMW z4 roadster&lt;br /&gt;40. Favorite flower? Peonies, Tulips, Daffodils, Hydrengias&lt;br /&gt;41. Number of keys on your key ring? Um... 4 I think&lt;br /&gt;42. Can you juggle? Nada&lt;br /&gt;43. Favorite day of the week? TUESDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;44. What did you do on your last birthday? Did a ton of work so I could leave the next day to go to ohio with poodle... and that was fun... (note the sarcasim)&lt;br /&gt;45. Do you own a donor card? No... and it doesnt matter if I have it on my DL or not... cause your next of kin still makes the final call... and now ya know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110775030047777538?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110775030047777538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110775030047777538' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110775030047777538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110775030047777538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/from-elly.html' title='From elly!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110748646332644449</id><published>2005-02-03T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T22:07:43.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The blahs</title><content type='html'>Feeling it tonight... it was just such a stressful day, and now... I've crashed and am feeling totally blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110748646332644449?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110748646332644449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110748646332644449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110748646332644449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110748646332644449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/02/blahs.html' title='The blahs'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110688535289066333</id><published>2005-01-27T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T23:09:12.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mississippi with one I</title><content type='html'>So y'all... I'm off to the deep south of Pearl, Mississippi... whooo weee it's gonna be a good ole' time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... so pray for me.&lt;br /&gt;Pray that we make it there safe, and that I dont get attacked by any hillbillies before I make it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugs y'all... I'll be back on sunday!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110688535289066333?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110688535289066333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110688535289066333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110688535289066333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110688535289066333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/mississippi-with-one-i.html' title='Mississippi with one I'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110649694169387862</id><published>2005-01-23T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T11:15:41.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>JOE!</title><content type='html'>So last night I kidnapped Joe and we hung out. For the first 4 hours we just sat in the wal-mart parking lot talking. It's so nice to have someone that laughs as hard as I do at my "throwing up on my friends boss's driveway" story as I do. Then again... this is Jacksonville... we're all a little desperate for things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway... I just got back and I have tons to work on... so I'm gonna go. Later y'all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110649694169387862?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110649694169387862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110649694169387862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110649694169387862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110649694169387862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/joe.html' title='JOE!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110641658711785809</id><published>2005-01-22T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T12:56:27.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile</title><content type='html'>So when thinking about how to post about what I did last night... I realize that everything I keep going "It's been awhile since..." So here we go... the entire list of "it's been awhiles"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I:&lt;br /&gt;- ran a red light... oops&lt;br /&gt;- hung out with the diverse night life at waffle house&lt;br /&gt;- had to steal a friends lighter to keep them from lighting more things on fire... thus getting us kicked out of said waffle house&lt;br /&gt;- drove illegally on base "Yes sir... we're just driving through"&lt;br /&gt;- had someone else around to pump my gas&lt;br /&gt;- had a friends actually fall asleep in my car&lt;br /&gt;- been the oldest in the group I'm with&lt;br /&gt;- been amazed at HOW MUCH FOOD guys can eat&lt;br /&gt;- been so frustrated at how everything closes so flippin early in jacksonville&lt;br /&gt;- been so lost in the city I live in&lt;br /&gt;- thought to myself... I'll just use that pointy thing as a weapon&lt;br /&gt;- left the house to go out at 1:00&lt;br /&gt;- froze my ass off trying to remember where my car is&lt;br /&gt;- had something chopped, chunked, and covered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... long list. But basically Me, Joe, and Kyle went out last night. They keep thinking that since I've lived here longer I know of some secret hot spots that none of the marines know about. But really... there isn't anything to do in this town. And the pool hall was closing almost right when we got there. So we ended up spending the rest of the night at waffle house... and can I say. I had NO IDEA eggs could be so greasy. Clearly, it has been awhile since I've been to waffle house. In the end... Kyle fell asleep in my car, and Joe and I managed to get lost a few more times, before finally finding our way onto base, and to their barracks. All in all... a pretty fun night. Although next time we might start a bit earlier so that I don't have to be driving home at 4 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... I have so much work to get done. Later y'all!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110641658711785809?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110641658711785809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110641658711785809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110641658711785809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110641658711785809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110610199057954616</id><published>2005-01-18T21:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T21:33:10.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Committed!</title><content type='html'>Have I mentioned how much I love this show!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear... it's like... I know these people in real life. I only hope this show actually stays on the air for more then one season like so many of the other shows they come out with. But I think it's really cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I now have a new appreciation for tea with the little balls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110610199057954616?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110610199057954616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110610199057954616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110610199057954616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110610199057954616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/committed.html' title='Committed!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110610212546781485</id><published>2005-01-18T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T21:35:25.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Liz</title><content type='html'>So I finally heard back from Liz today.&lt;br /&gt;She's always so good at making me feel better about things. And is totally awesome at giving advice for anything. From what to wear to a ball... to finding the guys with all their own teeth... to things to do in DC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is just my offical snaps for Liz&lt;br /&gt;:snaps: :snaps: :snaps:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She totally rocks my socks and melts my cheese!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110610212546781485?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110610212546781485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110610212546781485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110610212546781485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110610212546781485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/liz.html' title='The Liz'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110581409318879414</id><published>2005-01-15T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T13:34:53.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stand when you're falling</title><content type='html'>Ok... so I have this new love for country music tv. I guess becuase MTV has so much other crap on it, that I like being able to have music on... anyway... figured I'd share one of my new favorite songs. Although this is a scary sign I've been living here in the south waaay too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LeAnn Rimes; Nothing Bout Loves Makes Sense&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like a cloud full of rain shouldn't hang in the sky &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ice shouldn't burn or a bumblebee fly &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you feel so happy, then why do you cry? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;Like an ocean liner shouldn't float on the sea &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A pearl in an oyster or a circus of fleas &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Someone so perfect can't be falling for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;Nothin' bout love is less than confusing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can win when you're losing, stand when you're falling I can't figure it out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nothin' bout love can make an equation nothin' short of amazing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wish I could explain it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;The way that we dance, the reason we dream &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That big Italian tower, well how does it lean? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Something so strong shouldn't make me this weak &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;(Instrumental)&lt;br /&gt;Nothin' bout love is less than confusing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can win when you're losing, stand when you're falling I can't figure it out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nothin' bout love can make an equation nothin' short of amazing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wish I could explain it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;Like the lights of Las Vegas going out on the sand &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A jumbo shrimp or a baby grand &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How you're touching my heart when you're holding my hand &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love makes sense &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love makes sense &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh nothin' bout love, makes sense &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No no no, oh it don't make sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110581409318879414?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110581409318879414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110581409318879414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110581409318879414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110581409318879414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/stand-when-youre-falling.html' title='Stand when you&apos;re falling'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110581360099219832</id><published>2005-01-15T06:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T13:26:40.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The sweet email I got</title><content type='html'>So... an update on what's shakin with rick and all that stuff. The next day, I did what elly told me and just gave him some space, and at some point we were talking online, and then after he got offline I got a really nice email from him. Which elly agrees it totally sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he's just having a hard time with everything, I just wish I could fix it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So figured I'd update you.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110581360099219832?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110581360099219832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110581360099219832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110581360099219832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110581360099219832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/sweet-email-i-got.html' title='The sweet email I got'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110562722912453016</id><published>2005-01-13T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T09:40:29.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Night</title><content type='html'>So last night rick came over and we hung out for a little while. He had told me just a little bit after he got here that he couldnt sleep here, like we'd been planning. Then he could just strait to work in the morning. But anyway... this is so hard for me. Since he's been back at Lejeune he's just having such a hard time. He deploys in less then a month and he's just pulled back from everyone and everything. I know he's lost alot of friends over the years, and being a medic makes it even worse for him.&lt;br /&gt;So anyway... It's something that I dont even know how to work with... or what to say... or what to do.&lt;br /&gt;I've talked to elly, and she gave me some advice, but other then that it's like... I feel really helpless. That's really the problem, every other part of my life, I have control of and stuff... but when it comes to him, I just feel totally helpless.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;Talk to y'all later&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110562722912453016?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110562722912453016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110562722912453016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110562722912453016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110562722912453016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/last-night.html' title='Last Night'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110555710192880650</id><published>2005-01-12T14:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T14:11:41.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yep Yep Yep</title><content type='html'>So I saw a commercial today, it was on the other day and I kinda didnt really think about what it said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's a new Land Before Time movie out... and really... I think this is like... more then the 10th one. Dont you think they should really give it a rest. Not to say I didnt like the first one, because, I did. But at this point... it's crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... just had to comment on that.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110555710192880650?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110555710192880650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110555710192880650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110555710192880650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110555710192880650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/yep-yep-yep.html' title='Yep Yep Yep'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110548438030746254</id><published>2005-01-11T17:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T17:59:40.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blood</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone... I just had to share the cool thing I did today. I donated blood. Whoo hoo... It'd been so long since I'd done it, because right before I was going to last time, I got my tattoo and then had to wait a year. But we went to the post office, and when we were driving back, there was the giant bloodmobile thing.&lt;br /&gt;It was so nice to do it again, cause I havent since I was in school. Blood drives were so my thing. And here, the women who is the head volunteer bakes all the cookies herself. That's reason enough to donate.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, now my arms all wrapped up in the cool crepe paper looking stuff. And the dorky sticker that says "Hug Me I Gave Blood Today" Hmm... if the sticker works, I might wear it everyday. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had to share.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110548438030746254?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110548438030746254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110548438030746254' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110548438030746254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110548438030746254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/blood.html' title='Blood'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110524159913196549</id><published>2005-01-09T02:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T00:02:16.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>duck duck duck </title><content type='html'>Goose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I figured I'd update the world on what's been shaking in my life this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elly and I started talking again. I honestly forgot how much her and I had in common, kinda awesome really... We talked for a really long time one night, kind hashed things out, and talked about all sorts of really important stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got our new catalog sheets made, and they turned out AWESOME. We came out with some new designs and products at the same time, so it was double cool to see the new stuff in print for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick is finally in town for his pre-deployment crap. We finally got in touch with one another and he came over on his super short lunch break on Thursday. It was nice, he's gotten so much more freckly. And to top it off... he was coming right from work, so he was all cammied out... and nothing beats a man in cammies. What sucks is with their schedule right now, he's working every frickin day, and only had like 20 minutes the day he came over... hopefully he'll have some time for me. He's wanted to take me to see National Treasure for the longest time, he saw it a few weeks ago (right when it came out) Because he's a history and stuff like that kinda buff... and wanted to see it again... so we were planning on seeing it as soon as he got here. Lucky for us it's still showing here, I just hope it holds out a little longer. Anyway... he leaves so soon anyway. Beginning of feb. But here's hoping we can hang out more before he goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got two... yes two letters from Nathan. He's this friend of ellys fiance who is in the sandbox right now, and I started writing too... and he finally sent me pictures, and um... WOW. He is a very good looking guy. But it was cool to hear form him and know he's doing alright and stuff. And I know when he's coming home, and I know he's looking forward to that. Elly is going to HI to welcome home her sweety and keeps telling me that I should go with her to meet Nate, lol... if only I had that kind of money, I so totally would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see... what else. Jake is coming home next weekend... maybe maybe not. They just told him that he might have to stay another three months. Which totally sucks. He's leaving again in March anyway... so if he does stay, he'll only get a week off then he'll be back over again. He finds out on wednesday for sure if he's coming home or not. I know he cant wait to get home. So I can only hope for his sake that he gets to.  And since he's there with a small unit, he get to use the sattalight (sattalite?) phone whenver he wants, so we had this awesome two hour conersation the other night... the stories this guy tells... FRICKIN hillarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... other then that, life has been pretty normal. I lost 13 pounds... yay me. Considering how much I want to lose, it's a nice start. I'll keep you all updated... then again... it's not like anyone reads this... but a girl can dream cant she.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I think that's enough Lindsey for now. I'm gonna crash now... y'all have a good night. And my spell checker wont work... so just ignore anything that's spelled wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Toodles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110524159913196549?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110524159913196549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110524159913196549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110524159913196549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110524159913196549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/duck-duck-duck.html' title='duck duck duck '/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110507722161977529</id><published>2005-01-07T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T18:55:45.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another jaoink from shells profile</title><content type='html'>Spell your first name backwards - notgnisnek&lt;br /&gt;The story behind your user name - It's something an old friend used to call me&lt;br /&gt;Where do you live - Topsail Island, NC for now&lt;br /&gt;Four words that sum you up - different, loving, chic, urban&lt;br /&gt;Wallet - blue, green and tan striped Kate Spade nock off&lt;br /&gt;Sunglasses - from steve madden&lt;br /&gt;CD in stereo right now - sara tandy... bet ya never heard of her&lt;br /&gt;Tattoos - funky tribal flower thing on the small of my back&lt;br /&gt;Piercings - just my ears&lt;br /&gt;clothes - lots of black, lots of pink, and I love my jeans&lt;br /&gt;Makeup -I have some lancome from when I had money, but most days it's just powder, mascara and lip gloss&lt;br /&gt;In my mouth - an ickie taste, i'd better go brush my teeth&lt;br /&gt;In my head - wild and very dirty thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Wishing - I already lived in DC&lt;br /&gt;After this - spending some quality time with my best friend "serta pocketed coil"&lt;br /&gt;Talking to - elly and jake&lt;br /&gt;If you could get away with it and murder anyone, who would it be? Dont want to put that in writing&lt;br /&gt;Person you wish you could see right now - jake (deployed), rick (deploying), nate (deployed)tony (deployed), or ryan (in DC), but mostly jake or nate&lt;br /&gt;Is next to you - a scanner on one side, a tv on the other&lt;br /&gt;Something you're looking forward to in the upcoming month - January... rick is in town, February... traveling again, March... moving!&lt;br /&gt;Something that you are deathly afraid of - SPIDERS and heights&lt;br /&gt;Do you like candles - Sure do&lt;br /&gt;Do you like hot wax - ooh.. kinky&lt;br /&gt;Do you like incense - no&lt;br /&gt;Do you like the taste of blood - ewies&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in love - yes&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in soul mates - only on good days&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in love at first sight - i'll let you know if it happens&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in Heaven - Of course&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in forgiveness - Most of the time&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in God - More then anything&lt;br /&gt;What do you want done with your body when you die - I think I want to be burried somewhere... but I'm not really sure where I feel at home.&lt;br /&gt;If you could have any animal for a pet, what would it be - cow... really.. i'm serious&lt;br /&gt;What is the latest you've ever stayed up - 4 days&lt;br /&gt;Ever been to Belgium - Nope&lt;br /&gt;Can you eat with chopsticks - Sure can... wanna see?&lt;br /&gt;What are 5 cities you wouldn't mind relocating to - Washinton DC, Virginia Beach, Chicago (except it gets so cold) um... that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;What are some of your favorite pig out foods - Hot Dogs, cornbread, cheddar and sour cream potato chips, pecan twirls, pizza... the list goes on really&lt;br /&gt;What's something that you wish people would understand - Why we're at war, and what it really means to be a Christian&lt;br /&gt;What's something you wish you could understand better - There's a lot of things, spanish being one of them, computers being another&lt;br /&gt;Anyone you miss that you haven't seen in a long time - Erin, Alana, Kaitlin, Kim...all my Randy Mac girls&lt;br /&gt;What's one thing you want to make happen? This whole getting healthy kick... I'm gonna be hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE WAYS I AM STILL JUST A KID:&lt;br /&gt;1) I love the color pink&lt;br /&gt;2) I still get excited over chocolate milk&lt;br /&gt;3) I always want to stay up late&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE WAYS I AM ALREADY OLD:&lt;br /&gt;1) I have a company.. that should really count for all three&lt;br /&gt;2) Kids I babysat... are going to college&lt;br /&gt;3) I hate most of the music on the "popular" station&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE WAYS THAT I'M A STEREOTYPICAL "BOY":(yes, i realize i'm not a boy, but i do boy stuff)&lt;br /&gt;1) I swear... too much sometimes&lt;br /&gt;2) I can hold my liquor&lt;br /&gt;3) I like to drive fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE WAYS THAT I'M A STEREOTYPICAL "GIRL":&lt;br /&gt;1) Pink is my favorite color&lt;br /&gt;2) I love high heels&lt;br /&gt;3) I like to tell people I love them... and all that good stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:&lt;br /&gt;1) Move&lt;br /&gt;2) Go back to school&lt;br /&gt;3) Learn more about myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:&lt;br /&gt;1) Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;2) Linds (only the right people call me that)&lt;br /&gt;3) Cupcake... ok soi'm trying to make it stick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:&lt;br /&gt;1) balelae&lt;br /&gt;2) lindseyrmwc&lt;br /&gt;3) cherrychipbadabing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:&lt;br /&gt;1) my eyes&lt;br /&gt;2) my work ethic&lt;br /&gt;3) that i can make people laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU HATE ABOUT YOURSELF:&lt;br /&gt;1) that i'm insecure sometimes&lt;br /&gt;2) that i'm indecisive&lt;br /&gt;3) that i cant spell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:&lt;br /&gt;1) being alone&lt;br /&gt;2) the dark&lt;br /&gt;3) spiders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:&lt;br /&gt;1) talking online&lt;br /&gt;2) diet coke&lt;br /&gt;3) eye drops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS/ARTISTS:&lt;br /&gt;1) Relient K&lt;br /&gt;2) Carbon Leaf&lt;br /&gt;3) Indigo Girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):&lt;br /&gt;1) trust&lt;br /&gt;2) commitment&lt;br /&gt;3) lots and lots of sex... lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:&lt;br /&gt;1) collecting seashells&lt;br /&gt;2) decorating&lt;br /&gt;3) watching oprah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:&lt;br /&gt;1) Spend time with a few certin people&lt;br /&gt;2) Eat something&lt;br /&gt;3) Get a massage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:&lt;br /&gt;1) Get married&lt;br /&gt;2) Change the world&lt;br /&gt;3) Inspire people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110507722161977529?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110507722161977529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110507722161977529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110507722161977529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110507722161977529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-jaoink-from-shells-profile.html' title='Another jaoink from shells profile'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110464530903202316</id><published>2005-01-02T00:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T00:56:20.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This works better as an email, but a post will do</title><content type='html'>1. Copy and post.&lt;br /&gt;2. BOLD anything that is true.&lt;br /&gt;3. Leave plain anything that is not true.&lt;br /&gt;4. Add something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;001. I miss somebody right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;002. I watch more tv than I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;003. I love olives.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;004. I love sleeping.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;005. I own lots of books&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;006. I wear glasses or contact lenses.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;007. I love to play video games.&lt;br /&gt;008. I've tried marijuana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;009. I've watched porn movie.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;010. I have been in a threesome.&lt;br /&gt;011. I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.&lt;br /&gt;012. I believe honesty is the best policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;013. I have acne free skin.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;014. I like and respect Al Sharpton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;015. I curse frequently.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;016. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;017. I have a hobby.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;018. I've been told I have a nice butt.&lt;/strong&gt; (of course he was drunk... but anyway)&lt;br /&gt;019. I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;020. I'm really, really smart.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;021. I've never broken anyone else's bones.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;022. I have a secret that I am ashamed to reveal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;023. I love rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;024. I'm paranoid at times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;025. I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;026. I need money right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;027. I love sushi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;028. I talk really, really fast sometimes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;029. I have fresh breath in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;030. I have semi-long hair.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;031. I have lost money in Las Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;032. I have at least one brother and/or sister.&lt;br /&gt;033. I was born in a country outside of the U.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;034. I shave my legs.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;035. I have a twin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;037. I couldn't survive without Caller I.D.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;038. I like the way that I look. in general, i think i'm perdy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;039. I have lied to a good friend in the past 6 months.&lt;br /&gt;040. I know how to do cornrows.&lt;br /&gt;041. I am usually pessimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;042. I have mood swings. oh god do i have mood swings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;043. I think prostitution should be legalized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;044. I think Britney Spears is pretty.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;045. I have cheated on a significant other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;046. I have a hidden talent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;047. I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.&lt;br /&gt;048. I think that I'm popular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;049. I am currently single.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;050. I have kissed someone of the same sex.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;051. I enjoy talking on the phone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;052. I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;053. I love to shop. but i need more money.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;054. I would rather shop than eat.&lt;br /&gt;055. I would classify myself as ghetto.&lt;br /&gt;056. I'm bourgie and have worn a sweater tied around my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;057. I'm obsessed with my LJ!&lt;br /&gt;058. I don't hate anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;059. I'm a pretty good dancer ...when i've been drinking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;060. I don't think Mike Tyson raped Desiree Washington.&lt;br /&gt;061. I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;062. I have a cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;063. I watch MTV on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;065. I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;067. I have never been in a real relationship before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;068. I've rejected someone before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;069. I currently have a crush on someone. hehe but i'm not telling. giggle giggle.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;070. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of mylife.&lt;br /&gt;071. I want to have children in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;072. I have changed a diaper before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;073. I've had the cops called on me before.&lt;br /&gt;074. I bite my nails.&lt;br /&gt;075. I am a member of the Tom Green fan club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;076. I'm not allergic to anything deadly.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;077. I have a lot to learn.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;078. I have dated someone at least 10 years older or younger.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;079. I plan on seeing Ice Cube's newest "Friday"movie.&lt;br /&gt;080. I am very shy around the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;081. I'm online 24/7, even as an away message.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;082. I have at least 5 away messages saved.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;083. I have tried alcohol before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;084. I have made a move on a friend's significant other in the past.&lt;br /&gt;085. I own the "SOUTH PARK" movie.&lt;br /&gt;086. I have avoided assignments to be on Xanga orLivejournal.&lt;br /&gt;087. When I was a kid I played "the birds and the bees" with a neighbor or chum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;088. I enjoy country music.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;089. I love my best friend i love all my friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;090. I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.&lt;br /&gt;091. I watch soap operas whenever I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;092. I'm obsessive, anal retentive, and often a perfectionist.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;093. I have used my sexuality to advance my career.&lt;br /&gt;094. I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.&lt;br /&gt;095. I know all the words to Slick Rick's "Children'sStory".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;096. Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;097. I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;098. I have dated a close friend's ex. (NEVER NEVER NEVER)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;099. I'm happy as of this moment. although given recent events, i wonder why.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. I have gone scuba diving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;101. I Have a crush on somebody I have never met.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;102. I've kissed someone I knew I shouldn't.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103. I play a musical instrument.&lt;br /&gt;104. I strongly dislike math. i actually enjoy math. fits in with my anal retentive nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;105. I'm procrastinating on something right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;106. I own and use a library card. yeah...but not very often.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107. I fall in "lust" more than in"love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;108. Cheese enchiladas rock my socks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;109. I think The Lord of the Rings is one of the greatestthings ever.&lt;br /&gt;110. I'm obsessed with the tv show "Lost."&lt;br /&gt;111. I am resentful that I have to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;112. I am an entirely different person around different people.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113. I think the world would be a better place if people just smiled more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;114. I think ramen is the best kind of food in the whole world.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;115. I am suffering of a broken heart. Not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;116. I am a nerd. yep. to the core.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;117. No matter where I am or who I'm with, I always seem to be lonely.&lt;br /&gt;118. I am left handed and proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;119. I don't change who I am for someone else.&lt;/strong&gt; Not anymore&lt;br /&gt;120. My heart resides below my feet.&lt;br /&gt;121. I am a Senior in High School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;122. I enjoy smoothies.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123. I have gastritis.&lt;br /&gt;124. I have nothing better to do with my time.&lt;br /&gt;125. I am listening to Radiohead right now.&lt;br /&gt;126. Most people call me by my middle name.&lt;br /&gt;127. I once stole a music stand.&lt;br /&gt;128. Pi confuses me.&lt;br /&gt;129. I love NASCAR!&lt;br /&gt;130. I own a over 200 CDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;131. I work 7 days a week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;132. I have mono&lt;br /&gt;132. I dont have the ability to make decisions without changing my mind.&lt;br /&gt;133. People tell me I have a horrible sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;134. I'm only wearing underwear.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;135. I had more than one Thanksgiving dinner this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;136. I've drove to a different state to see a band I like.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;137. Rootbeer is the best soda in the world. mmm. rootbeer.&lt;br /&gt;138. Music is my life.&lt;br /&gt;139. I love to paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;140. I am annoyed by the notion of having to be politically correct&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;141. I have the entire series of a tv show. Either on tv or on my computer. (no, but I want gilmore girls and west wing)&lt;br /&gt;142. My biggest fan is Bob Hope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;143. I have been to a foreign country that is not in the Americas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;144. I have a hot boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;145. I've been to a tropical island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;146. I love Pez.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;147. I am in credit card debt.&lt;br /&gt;148. I am so very happy right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;149. I don't own any white underwear.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok... pass it on everyone!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110464530903202316?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110464530903202316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110464530903202316' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110464530903202316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110464530903202316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/this-works-better-as-email-but-post.html' title='This works better as an email, but a post will do'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110461117213450724</id><published>2005-01-01T16:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T15:26:18.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy New Year Everyone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bye bye 2004&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hello 2005&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My resolutions this year:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-get organized&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-move&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-build company more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Whoo hoo... we'll see how I do on that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'll keep you updated on all of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Later y'all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lindsey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110461117213450724?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110461117213450724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110461117213450724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110461117213450724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110461117213450724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2005/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110446669884327457</id><published>2004-12-31T02:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T23:18:18.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And she cried</title><content type='html'>She cried for all the loss she'd ever felt. She cried for friends, she cried for love, She cried for the people at war, she cried for change, she cried for staying the same, she cried for everything she'd ever said, and she cried for everything she hadnt.&lt;br /&gt;She cried for stregenth, she cried for weakness, she cried for the way the ocean made her feel, she cried for her father. She cried for everyone she'd ever hurt, she cried for everyone who'd hurt her. She cried for everything inside her, she cried for everything she'd pushed away. She cried for her failures, she cried for every success she could remember. She cried becuase she could only remember a few.&lt;br /&gt;She cried for the people she'd lost, she cried for the people she'd loved, and she cried for those she lost without ever getting to say goodbye. She cried becuase she was sorry, she cried becuase she was mad, she cried because she was sad.&lt;br /&gt;She cried becuase she knew from this moment on her life would never be the same. She cried becuase that scared her. And she cried becuase for the first time ever, she saw change coming, and relized it's just as bad as when you dont. She cried becuase she was scared. She cried becuase she knew she had reason to be. She cried for being alone. She cried for being alone in a croud.&lt;br /&gt;She cried for every lie she'd fourced herself to believe. She cried for every lie she'd fourced someone to believe about her. She cried for who she was trying to pretend she was. She cried for the amazing person inside she'd never let out. She cried becuase she was grown up, she cried for the little girl still deep inside. She cried becuase this was the last day she was going to pretend.&lt;br /&gt;She cried for so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110446669884327457?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110446669884327457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110446669884327457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110446669884327457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110446669884327457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/and-she-cried.html' title='And she cried'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110438446108296191</id><published>2004-12-30T00:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T00:29:25.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet the Roomates</title><content type='html'>So... things with DC are rolling smooth again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had already met this girl named Amanda who is moving to DC at the same time. And for awhile I was worried that her and I woudlnt be able to find a good place for something we could afford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait... who's that in the distance. Rob! Yay! Great and wonderful Rob lives near DC and has been waiting to move out of his place. (he's tired of the people he's living with) So we're saved... and this way, we can actually pay less and get more. It's gonna be great. Not to mention the added safty of not having just girls living in our apartment. Plus that means a guy around to open things and kill spiders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.. just had to brag... becuase I'm beyond excited.&lt;br /&gt;Later y'all&lt;br /&gt;Linds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if any of you were wondering about my "talk" with justin about being just with him. Well, even though three days before he told me that he wanted it to be happy us again, he was aparently enjoying the idea of dating other people. That's fine... at this point, its' like... I'm just tired of getting hurt. And still love him, but I can't keep loving someone who doesnt love me back.  (although just for the record, as of when he came to see me, he said he still did... but I'm not gonna keep arguing) So dont worry everyone... lindsey's gonna be ok... she's got magic beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110438446108296191?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110438446108296191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110438446108296191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110438446108296191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110438446108296191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/meet-roomates.html' title='Meet the Roomates'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110382689142591546</id><published>2004-12-23T00:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T18:33:12.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Weekend</title><content type='html'>So folk... I had just come home from a walk and saw that I had an email. And it turned out to be from Justin. I have to admit, I was really suprised to see it. He said he was sorry and really wanted to see me. Which I told him would be ok, after we talked for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked for a long time, and I think it went well. I also got christmas gifts... which I wasnt expecting. I got sea monkeys and Coyote Ugly... which were such perfect gifts. Totally happy lindsey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... we're sorta back together, we're dating, but not exclusive. I think this is a good idea, becuase I just needed more time before I got right back into a relationship with him. Just needed to figure things out. So we'll see how it goes. At the time i was also talking to this other guy about possibly dating, although since then I've told him that I really want to make things work with Justin (he wasnt too thrilled about that, but tough). So at the time, it especially made sense to not be a couple again. At this point, I really want to be with just justin, I really love him. But we'll see how it goes when I actually tell him about it.  He's heading home to ohio right now, so I wont really get to talk to him about this for awhile... at least  a few days with the holidays and all. But fingers crossed then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really explain how happy I felt when he was here. At first I was scared, but then it was just like... it was really really nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I've gotta get some stuff done. Later y'all.&lt;br /&gt;Linds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110382689142591546?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110382689142591546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110382689142591546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110382689142591546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110382689142591546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/last-weekend.html' title='Last Weekend'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110290429117291954</id><published>2004-12-13T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-12T22:35:12.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DC bound</title><content type='html'>I know I havent mentioned her before, but Shell is one of my awesome friends, and just about the only female I actually trust. Well about a month ago when her and her boyfriend (kevin for those of you keeping track) moved into their new big place and asked me if I wanted to move in with them. Because they have an extra room, and she'd always knew I wanted to live near DC. Well... at the time I didnt want to leave NC. But, kevin and her had been dropping major hints since then... and now, I think I really want to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've talked about it a ton in the past few days, and it's official...&lt;br /&gt;I'M MOVING TO DC IN MARCH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be so much fun... and her and kevin are so awesome... I'm just so excited. So I wonder how many days left in NC I have... um... I think i'll count right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;insert&gt;:insert music you hear when the phone company puts you on hold:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whooo hooo... 84 days! That's so cool! And it'll be great, because then I can start taking classes again in the fall... ooh. And have I mentioned how much I've always wanted to live in DC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally happy lindsey... I think I might start packing now.&lt;br /&gt;Later y'all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110290429117291954?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110290429117291954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110290429117291954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110290429117291954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110290429117291954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/dc-bound.html' title='DC bound'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110290080570572165</id><published>2004-12-12T01:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-12T20:20:05.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And on the second day...</title><content type='html'>So lets see folks.  In case any of you wanted a Lindsey update.  Justin and I have talked since he dumped me... and it was almost just kinda weird, I  just wasnt sure how to act.  At first I got all excited and stuff, but then it turned into more of him just not loving me stuff.  It's not like he's being mean, he's just being honest, which really really hurt.  But anyway... life will go on.  So in case any of you were worried... Lindsey will be fine.  And at some point justin will miss me and realize he made a mistake and he'll totally  regret it... at least that's what I'm telling myself so that I feel better.&lt;br /&gt;Later y'all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110290080570572165?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110290080570572165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110290080570572165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110290080570572165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110290080570572165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/and-on-second-day.html' title='And on the second day...'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110265985631476799</id><published>2004-12-10T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T01:24:16.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Loss and pain</title><content type='html'>I guess that's the only title I can think of for this post. Justin and I broke up tonight. Well... I say we broke up... but really he dumped me. He just wanted someone that was closer to him, and if that's how he feels I cant really stop him. The only thing to do now is cry. That and listen to all the sad songs I know... here's the best one I know. Which really explains how I feel. What can I say folks, I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;Catch ya later... bring some tissues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Out Of Reach"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Knew the signs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wasn't right&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was stupid for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Swept away by you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And now I feel like a fool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So confused,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My heart's bruised&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Was I ever loved by you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach, so far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I never had your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Couldn't see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We were never&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meant to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Catch myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From despair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I could drown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I stay here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Keeping busy everyday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know I will be OK&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I was&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So confused,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My heart's bruised&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Was I ever loved by you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach, so far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I never had your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Couldn't see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We were never&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meant to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So much hurt,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So much pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Takes a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To regain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What is lost inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I hope that in time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'll be out of my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'll be over you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But now I'm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So confused,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My heart's bruised&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Was I ever loved by you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I never had your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Couldn't see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We were never&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meant to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of reach,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You never gave your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In my reach, I can see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's a life out there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110265985631476799?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110265985631476799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110265985631476799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110265985631476799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110265985631476799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/12/loss-and-pain.html' title='Loss and pain'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110079028678606546</id><published>2004-11-18T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T10:04:46.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to cheese country</title><content type='html'>Ok folks... I'm off to Madison, WI for the weekend.  This is... finally... for real... my last trip of the year. Which at this point... isnt saying much.  I'm super excited to get it over with because I'll get back monday/tuesday and I get to pick up Justin on Wednesday.  He's spending thanksgiving at my place.  I'm excited about it... really I am. It'll be the first time in a loooong time I'm actually enjoying a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck on this 19 hour road trip... and with the weekend.  I'll bring y'all back some cheese.&lt;br /&gt;Linds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110079028678606546?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110079028678606546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110079028678606546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110079028678606546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110079028678606546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/11/off-to-cheese-country.html' title='Off to cheese country'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110075218929882022</id><published>2004-11-18T02:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T23:29:49.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The ass award</title><content type='html'>Pop quiz class... got your pencils ready? Here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when you get mad at someone, and then do something about it.  Like for example hang up on them.  It's always you that feels like the ass after it all ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone have an answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly... even though I did it... I know why I feel bad.  It's love.  Long story short, I was in a bad mood, and justin kinda-in my mind-in hindsight didnt really- yelled at me, so I hung up on him.  And I was doing it to make him feel bad. And now... I feel bad. Because I don't want him to feel bad... I want him to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the ass award goes to me tonight... long live the queen.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110075218929882022?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110075218929882022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110075218929882022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110075218929882022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110075218929882022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/11/ass-award.html' title='The ass award'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-110074075555842401</id><published>2004-11-16T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T22:45:29.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up with me?</title><content type='html'>So folks... I figured I might finally want to catch up on my blog here. But to be honest... I can't remember what's happened since my last post.&lt;br /&gt;But I'll try...&lt;br /&gt;um... I went to Orlando, then Atlanta, then Ft.Wayne. So I travel a lot for work. Get used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend after that, I had my birthday... YAY... Happy Birthday to me... Then Justin and I went to Ohio to visit his family and meet everyone. Then I had to leave in the middle of that to go to Chicago, then I left again to Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;I got awful sick in Vegas... No I wasn't drunk... I had this horrible cold, flu, something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I got back from Vegas, I headed to Orlando again, then to Sacramento, and finished up October in Ft.Worth, TX. Fun fun fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that... Was supposed to be my last show in Seattle! But as it turns out, we found another one to go to this weekend so we'll be gone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last weekend was Justin's birthday, so we went to Myrtle Beach. Which was very very fun. We played a ton of putt putt and ate some awesome food. And we got to go to Medieval Times which Justin had been talking non-stop about since we started dating. It was also nice, because this weekend was our three month anniversary. Fun fun fun. Three months... It actually seems like much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok... All that thinking kinda hurt my head. I'll catch y'all later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Linds&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-110074075555842401?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/110074075555842401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=110074075555842401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110074075555842401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/110074075555842401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/11/whats-up-with-me.html' title='What&apos;s up with me?'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109344475312672120</id><published>2004-08-25T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T20:08:17.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The weekend update</title><content type='html'>Ok folks... figured you might be interested in hearing how this weekend with my awesome boyfriend went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets recap...&lt;br /&gt;- I was late picking him up&lt;br /&gt;- I apparently dont know how to cook french toast like I thought I did&lt;br /&gt;- It rained all day saturday so we coudlnt play putt putt&lt;br /&gt;- We got to walk around the mall with no money to spend... never fun&lt;br /&gt;- I end up feeling sick part of the day saturday&lt;br /&gt;- And then I basically cried the whole drive home (to drop him off)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you might think this is a bad weekend.... but no. I got to do it all with him. I was late.. and all he did was laugh and kiss me. I cant cook... so he took over for me when the phone rang. Somehow... even not having money but being in the mall is fun when I'm with him. I felt sick and he was actually worried about me. Which sometimes thats all you need to feel better. And yes I cry, but thats becuase he's important to me and for right now the next time we get to see one another is about three weeks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... all in all... it wasnt that bad of a weekend. Life goes on... and I'm looking forward to the next time I get to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Later Y'all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Linds&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109344475312672120?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109344475312672120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109344475312672120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109344475312672120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109344475312672120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/weekend-update.html' title='The weekend update'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109301611409783615</id><published>2004-08-20T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T10:35:14.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>La la la la</title><content type='html'>I'm so excited... I'm off to pick up Justin now.  It should take 2 1/2 hours to get there.  Ugh.. its such a dull drive, but its worth it to see him.  We're gonna have so much fun this weekend, and hopefully I'll be able to get some work done at the same time.  Sad huh... I'll have a hunky sexy guy in my room the whole time and I'll be thinking about work.  Sigh... Dont worry folks.. he'll get plenty of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to fayetteville!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109301611409783615?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109301611409783615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109301611409783615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109301611409783615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109301611409783615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/la-la-la-la.html' title='La la la la'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109294924618985959</id><published>2004-08-19T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T16:00:46.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cant Wait</title><content type='html'>Oooh... I am so excited.  Tomorrow this time, I'll be at Ft. Bragg picking up Justin so we can spend the weekend together.  It's going to be such a great weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went shopping for food today so that I'll be able to cook for him.  And now I'm finishing up cleaning my place so that it'll look nice.  That means all I have left to do tomorrow is finish up a little bit of work and do the girlie prep stuff (hair,makeup,all that jazz)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad he lives so far away, I'd be able to see him more often.  But its much closer then some relationships I know of.  And its not like he's deployed or anything and out of reach for weeks on end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just so lucky to have such an awesome guy as my boyfriend.  We just kinda... click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well enough about him.  I'm off to get some work done.  And start yet another load of laundry.  Whoo hoo... what fun.&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109294924618985959?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109294924618985959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109294924618985959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109294924618985959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109294924618985959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/cant-wait.html' title='Cant Wait'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109279140448338316</id><published>2004-08-17T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T20:10:04.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Realized!</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh!  I just realized today is the 17th... and you all know what that means...&lt;br /&gt;ONE MONTH TILL MY BIRTHDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so exciting... I love my birthday.  Growing up we never did much for holidays, becuase they always envolve family crap... but my mom would always do something really special for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing a happy dance as I get to start the countdown until the big day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The-soon-to-be-birthday girl&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109279140448338316?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109279140448338316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109279140448338316' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109279140448338316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109279140448338316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/just-realized.html' title='Just Realized!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109279100851218158</id><published>2004-08-17T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T20:03:28.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>UGH!</title><content type='html'>Ok... so I just have to vent.  I hate my job.  I really do.  Well not really.  I love what I do sometimes, its just other times, like right now, that I hate it.  Its not really hard work... its just boring as fuck.  Hmm... fuck... I wonder if I can swear on here.  I cant imagine it being an issue... but on some websites I've been to they dont allow swearing in posts (on message boards) but I guess you know what you're getting yourself into when you start reading blogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of blogs... this all reminds me of the book Why Girls Are Weird... if anyone ever wants a hella funny book... thats the one.  I nearly wet my pants when I was reading the chapter where she is working out and steps on her cats tail.  Trust me people... its funny.  For those of you that are curious how blogs and that book go together, its about a girl who starts an online journal of her life and such and falls in love and does all sorts of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... the only thing keeping me happy and trying to get work done is that I get to spend this weekend with Justin.  I feel kinda silly becuase he's all I can think about.  Which I'm sure is a good thing... but its all kinda new to me.  I wish everyone were as lucky as me... he really is amazing.  I've never met someone that has cared about me as much as he does, and he's just... mmmh... I cant even put into words how great he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... now I feel goofy... so I'd better post quick before I change my mind and decide its a bad idea to go on about him like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back to work... blah...&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109279100851218158?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109279100851218158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109279100851218158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109279100851218158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109279100851218158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/ugh.html' title='UGH!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109272157063883820</id><published>2004-08-17T03:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T11:43:27.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepy Lindsey</title><content type='html'>Why is it that now matter how tired I am sometimes... I just dont want to go to bed. I think it all goes back to when I was a little kid and didnt want to go to bed for fear I might miss something exciting. You know... becuase I'm still convinced that my mom waited till I was asleep to bring out the ice cream and real live unicorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to bed with me...&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109272157063883820?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109272157063883820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109272157063883820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109272157063883820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109272157063883820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/sleepy-lindsey.html' title='Sleepy Lindsey'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109270787902353998</id><published>2004-08-16T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T20:57:59.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Tags of my very own</title><content type='html'>Ok... Now that I've had some sleep. I have realized even more how awesome my new boyfriend is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a total thing for dog tags and so this past weekend Justin made sure he wore his. Which I promptly swiped from him and wore the rest of the weekend. Well... He has to have them or he gets in trouble, so we went and he got me my own set. This might not seem like a total big deal... But it was just something small and insanely sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... That's it for now... Just had to brag about how sweet my boy is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109270787902353998?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109270787902353998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109270787902353998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270787902353998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270787902353998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/dog-tags-of-my-very-own.html' title='Dog Tags of my very own'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109270593340661925</id><published>2004-08-16T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T00:34:21.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who's back!</title><content type='html'>Oh thank goodness... I made it back from Charlotte. What a weekend. First off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whooooo hooooo! Justin is my boyfriend, and I'm his girlfriend, and its all sweet and cute and wonderful. :lindsey does happy dance: We had SUCH an awesome weekend. Not only was he wonderful and helpful with all the work I had to do... But we got to spend the whole weekend together. Not to get too personal... He's such a good kisser. And he smells SO good. He's also the sweetest guy I have ever met. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other then that... The weekend wasn't all that good. We didn't do as well as we could have, but life goes on. And boy did it rain a lot. I'm such a nervous wreck when I drive in the rain... Its amazing I made it home as quickly as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I'm super tired... So I'm crashing. Little FYI for all of you... I'm such a dork... In case you haven't figured that out yet, here's some proof. When Justin walked me to my car when I was leaving him. I cried! Yep... What a loser am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later y'all,&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109270593340661925?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109270593340661925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109270593340661925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270593340661925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270593340661925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/guess-whos-back.html' title='Guess who&apos;s back!'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109270500160038948</id><published>2004-08-12T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T20:10:01.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to Charlotte... oh joy</title><content type='html'>Note the sarcasm people. I'm not too thrilled about this. Its for work and I'm so tired of all this traveling. Not to mention that this will most likely be a weekend we loose money. Just a fact of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that will possibly save this weekend... Justin my super awesome friend is going with me.  I'm sure I'll have more to post about him later...  For now he's just a friend. But wanna hear a secret? I think I like him as more then that. Actually, I know I do. We'll see how it goes. If nothing comes of it... it will at least be nice to have some company this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... Well... I just wanted to post before I finished up the rest of the work I have to do. Fingers crossed that the rain holds off until we get to Charlotte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109270500160038948?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109270500160038948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109270500160038948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270500160038948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270500160038948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/off-to-charlotte-oh-joy.html' title='Off to Charlotte... oh joy'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975570.post-109270293004280699</id><published>2004-08-11T10:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T20:13:08.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoo Hoo! I'm a blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yay.... gonna give this a try. See if its as fun as it seems from the outside. And why wouldn't it be, I love talking about myself. So here we go... Deep breath... My first post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets start by telling the world a bit of useless information about me. My name is Lindsey. I'm a fairly average girl that lives on an island off the coast of North Carolina. I work a lot, don't play as much as I should, and spend entirely too much time online. I'm 19 years old... Soon to be 20 (September 17th for those of you keeping track) My favorite color is pink, and I honestly believe that love is all I really need to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few more totally useless facts... I collect cows, I love the beach, I'm a seafood fanatic, Nothing beats snuggling with someone you love, I hate chocolate, and I want to change the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That might be enough for now... I'm sure I'll have something worthwhile to post about soon. But this will do for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lindsey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7975570-109270293004280699?l=rarecargo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/feeds/109270293004280699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7975570&amp;postID=109270293004280699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270293004280699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975570/posts/default/109270293004280699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rarecargo.blogspot.com/2004/08/whoo-hoo-im-blogger.html' title='Whoo Hoo! I&apos;m a blogger'/><author><name>Lindsey Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03850078084951975083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDrGxzOKPg8/TNf_jS1dJMI/AAAAAAAAABw/oCjDgd6qY3A/S220/0_IMAG0216.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
