<?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-5195117665233755670</id><updated>2011-08-01T16:41:34.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Myself, and I</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-527877822921938300</id><published>2009-05-06T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:17:02.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>i have decided to slowly and surely start infusing love back into my life in several diffrent ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. love others: I want to love people with open arms and an open mind. I want to love people without judgement. I want to love people because they ARE unique and different. I want to love people even if we dont necessarily "click".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. love myself: I mean i do, but i dont at the same time? i love myself okay, but i want to fall head over heels for myself you know? i want to stop worrying about what others think and start focusing on how i feel and what i need. i want to love my life to its fullest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend passed away recently whos love filled...everything and everyone. i admire that. but that is foreign territory for me. ive learned to live with this thinking: survive any way possible. only because ive been there and ive been that girl. i used to think that way. i still think that way only i hide it better. now i just want to live and love and laugh and have a grande time. life is way too short to do otherwise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-527877822921938300?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/527877822921938300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=527877822921938300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/527877822921938300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/527877822921938300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/05/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-4117601650219893288</id><published>2009-03-25T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T22:00:59.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one of those days...</title><content type='html'>yes, i am having one of those awkward, don't feel quite right days. it's about him but doesn't stem from him. i don't know what to do but struggle through this and be better for it later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-4117601650219893288?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/4117601650219893288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=4117601650219893288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4117601650219893288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4117601650219893288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-of-those-days.html' title='one of those days...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8522292107746136363</id><published>2009-03-23T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T22:29:05.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in response...</title><content type='html'>...to something I just saw.&lt;br /&gt;-You may be looking, but you will never find what you are looking for unless you stop chasing the ungettable and actually open yourself up to the possible. You like the chase my friend, but once you get it? Then what? Open your eyes friend. You don't want what you think you want, therefore you'll never get what you deserve. You won't find it here. Not now. Not anymore. You had it, and you lost it. You let it go away. And it lost you too, but what is the bigger loss? Maybe when you find yourself, you'll find it. Give a few more years, because your time is not now. I told a friend today that I was perfectly content...and I am, for now. But I still pray that our time will come around again. I just hope its not too late before that happens. Because after all this, I refuse to wait around for you. My life has already begun, and you are nowhere in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8522292107746136363?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8522292107746136363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8522292107746136363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8522292107746136363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8522292107746136363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-response.html' title='in response...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7546987569220189279</id><published>2009-03-23T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T21:47:59.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>finding the balance</title><content type='html'>Joe told me this, you know, to "find the balance" within my life. At first I was like "impossible right now". But I've really been focusing on what I need versus what I want and I feel like slowly yet surely, I am finding it! Lately, I've had no need to be with/see this boy any more than really needed. I've been content though with the time that we have spent together, not getting upset at his departure for the evening. And I feel like our friendship is steadily becoming like it was before...okay, a little better! I feel like I am in a good place, and gosh dern it, I feel happy, like truly happy for the first time in a long time! Thank you Joe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7546987569220189279?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7546987569220189279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7546987569220189279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7546987569220189279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7546987569220189279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/03/finding-balance.html' title='finding the balance'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7221942330234278729</id><published>2009-03-11T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T22:10:29.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some days...</title><content type='html'>sometimes i wish i were living a different life as a different person in some new exotic place far away. not that i don't love my life now, but i just wish that sometimes i could experience new things that i've yet to experience. like life over-seas in paris or france. or crazy exhilarating things like bungee jumping or parasailing. or love and relationships other than those with family and friends. i mean, like change your life, wake up elated, smile for no reason, soul inspiring love. sometimes i wish i were someone or somewhere else because i feel like after 22 years of having no success in this field, maybe id actually have a chance at it if i were not me or not where i am currently. there is someone though (when isn't there, really) that i do care for immensely. we are so much alike in many ways and in that retrospect we are very very different in other ways. i want a relationship. he doesn't. i like him. he doesn't like me. my friends think he does. he thinks not. which is more important than what others think im afraid. i dont know what to do with myself. its heartbreaking to wake up with or without him in my bed, just knowing that today will never be my day. the thing is, we are such good friends, i never want to ruin that. but where is the balance? where is my happy ending? he gets his. he gets the physicality and the emotional aspect of it all without the commitment. and i just hand it to him on a silver platter. and the only thing he has to deal with is the occasional "talk", where we decide to officially be "just friends", then break that rule day(s) later. is this the never-ending cycle of my life? is this the never-ending cycle of my right now, with him? he used to like me so much and now nothing? it makes me wonder how true his feelings were for me to begin with, so many years ago when he actually did "like" me. because if "j" (not the current guy but the guy before him) were to walk into my life right now and we got really close and he were to ask me out, no matter how heartbroken he made me feel before, i think i could honestly say that all my feelings would rush back to me and id honest to goodness like him again. but thats because i really liked him. i say im over him now and that i wouldnt but really, if the opportunity were to present itself again, i dont know, i really think id go for it. so that leaves me thinking two things about current guy. 1) he never really liked me....just had a tiny infatuation with me. or 2) he really does like me despite what he says but he doesnt want a relationship. i mean, i know he doesnt want a relationship but why would he lie to me then about liking me? maybe to make things better for me? well, spending the night a few times a week does not help. in fact, it hurts. a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7221942330234278729?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7221942330234278729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7221942330234278729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7221942330234278729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7221942330234278729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/03/some-days.html' title='some days...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-5467939373757490995</id><published>2009-03-03T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T22:43:59.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>randomness</title><content type='html'>I feel like I'm doing a lot better than I have been doing these past few weeks. Though things with a certain person are as muddled as ever, I feel like I know his opinion on this whole situation and though it is not what I necessarily want, it helps me through my day. After talking with my friend Joe, he brought up something that makes complete sense and I don't know why I haven't thought of it before. Oh wait, I have, except that it is going to be super hard to do and thinking about it now makes me a little upset. Anyways, Joe said that I can't give this guy the cake and let him eat it too. And he is completely right. He said that I need to set boundaries with this guy, and boundaries are what is going to be set. No more late night rendezvous for us. He gets none of that. I mean Jesus, this whole weekend was nothing but giving in and...no. Just no. I'm through. And hell, Spring Break is right around the corner. I don't even plan on talking to him not even once till after the break. Hopefully my friend Joe will come visit during the break and my life will be exponentially better just from that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-5467939373757490995?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/5467939373757490995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=5467939373757490995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/5467939373757490995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/5467939373757490995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/03/randomness.html' title='randomness'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-3570682099868859959</id><published>2009-02-16T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T22:32:56.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Lessons</title><content type='html'>Today, I decided to do something nice for myself. I figured since I've been so busy loving other people, I needed time to stop and love myself for a little while. So, I took myself out to lunch. Just me and astronomy homework :) And I didn't feel awkward or lonely. I felt strong and healthy and independent. I felt damn good! One turkey burger and two to-go sweet teas later, I found myself wandering over to my friends room where, shortly after I got there, he passed out leaving his computer open for whatever. And to my surprise I caught my friend Joe online. My friend Joe is wonderful. By far, one of the best people I've met in my life. He can read me like a book, and unlike most guys, is not an idiot when it comes to the obvious. Thank you God for at least one of them! First thing he asks me is if I've been lovesick and I guess to a certain extent I have been. So I replied yes and what followed made my entire day. He put a lot of things into perspective for me that I wouldn't have thought about till then. This whole "thing" thats going on with this guy is a whole lot simpler than I've been making it out to be. Joe's biggest advice? "Just let it play out". He also told me that this whole "not talking to the guy thing" is just a form of instant gratification and that I should avoid that and suffer through this. I mean, not technically s.u.f.f.e.r. but I should just ride it out with all of its highs and lows. And then at the end of everything I can say that I've learned something. And, if you don't me and haven't talked to me, then you may not know this little fact about me. I am a huge, I mean GINORMOUS believer in learning something from your experiences and hardships and just from every day life. With every relationship I've had, whether it be friends or an actual boyfriend type relationship, I've been able to take something with me that I'll never forget. Even my friend Joe: he set the standard for guys I date in the future. He is just that wonderful! After all was said and done, he said one final thing (well, not final final, but pretty close to final). He said that no matter what, me and this guy were friends first, whether is started with him liking me or me liking hin. Joe told me to cherish this friendship. He told me to be the wonderful person that he knows I am and maybe, just maybe the guy will change his mind. For now though, don't count on it. No games, be happy, be me. That made my whole day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-3570682099868859959?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/3570682099868859959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=3570682099868859959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3570682099868859959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3570682099868859959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/02/little-lessons.html' title='Little Lessons'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-3799351917786977541</id><published>2009-02-15T23:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T23:44:32.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>~~Is knowing or not knowing the true reality of a situation? People go through their everyday lives not knowing a lot of stuff and are usually the better for it. That is their reality, however confusing and not up to par it may be. And then there are those times when you find out something that maybe you shouldn't have known that throws your world in a complete spiral. Then that becomes your reality. But can we pick and choose which one we'd rather believe? We choose everything else. What we want to eat, what we want to watch on tv, where we want to go. Why can't we choose our reality? I wish that option was available to us, because believe me, my life would be a lot less complicated if I did get to choose. Granted, some things we NEED to hear and other things are "luxuries". Even though these other things are not very luxurious at all.&lt;br /&gt;~~I want a time machine. The end.&lt;br /&gt;~~That break that I so desperately needed from someone begins now. We, as friends,  are on good terms. Me, as a person so in liking of this person, is a "make you fall to your knees crying" sort of situation.  When did I lose the power, huh? I mean, its too late now. It's gone and I pray to God that one day I'll get it back...or at least share it. But today is not the day unfortunately. And I'm trying something new with old but new people and my heart is not in it. Maybe it isn't because it shouldn't be. Maybe it's not because I am, in fact, hung up on someone else. Who knows? I don't know if I really want to find out. I'm at a point now where I don't know if I WANT to be single or NEED to be single.&lt;br /&gt;~~I'm making a change. I am stopping. I'm stopping this whole fucked up relationship. I'm stopping smoking (gradually). I am going to start over and enjoy life and myself. I'm going to stop worrying about stupid stuff and start living life like it needs to be lived. Harmoniously!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-3799351917786977541?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/3799351917786977541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=3799351917786977541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3799351917786977541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3799351917786977541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/02/is-knowing-or-not-knowing-true-reality.html' title=''/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-978936382709542587</id><published>2009-02-14T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T22:19:30.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>V-Day</title><content type='html'>I KNOW Valentine's Day is all about love. All kinds of love, not just the kind that you share with a significant other. I mean, if you actually break that down, significant means important and other means, well...someone else that is not yourself. So can't your friends also be considered your "significant other"? From there I just want to say that overall, I had a fabulous Valentine's Day. Besides having to work this morning, I ended up going out on a friend date with Katie Marlowe who, bless her heart, keeps me so sane. Without her, I don't know what I'd do without her. We went to Longhorne which, after waiting for an hour for a table, ended up being an amazing dinner and a really great time! Then we hit Jim's B-day/V-day party. We stayed for about an hour then hit the road. Idk what it was but neither of us felt in the "party" mood. As we sat silently in the car riding back, I realized why we both were kinda glum. Even though we both love our friends dearly and KNOW that V-Day isn't about THAT kind of love, it hit us. We may not be alone, but dammit, we are lonely. And sad, and it's sad that I'm sad, but things are not the same as they used to be. And this sadness is hitting me from all different angles and I feel my life spinning out of control at times. First reason I feel this way is I miss the days when everyone was truly friends with everyone. Where there wasn't drama or fake ass people pretending to be your friend and then not so secretly talking about you behind your back. I feel like I could count my TRUE friends on one hand and that is so dissapointing to me. And on top of that, my friend Jono is gone and I've been missing him so much lately. I wish he'd come back because he really used to put things in perspective for me. Other things that make me sad are boys. I know, I know. Silly me. But I can't help it. I hate feeling so vulnerable and I hate that the one person I thought I could count on to like me because he has liked me for so long, is the one person that is breaking my heart. And I know he's only looking out for my best interest, but sometimes I think I truly do hate him for all of this. And then there is also the other guy who actually does like me...a lot. And I'm still trying to sort out my feelings for him. I keep praying that they'll come, but they haven't yet and I keep wondering if they ever will. Anyways...hate to sound so depressing so I think I'll stop now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-978936382709542587?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/978936382709542587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=978936382709542587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/978936382709542587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/978936382709542587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/02/v-day.html' title='V-Day'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8930340199238782345</id><published>2009-01-11T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T22:03:48.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend....Or Foe??</title><content type='html'>So, I guess what I'm about to talk about are little tid bit ponderings that I've just been thinking about. Alrighty then, here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this guy. He used to like me, but has recently told me that he no longer possesses those same feelings. I believed him and as hard for me as it is to convinve myself to stop liking him, its become a chore to stop feeling this way simply because HIS actions are not ringing true with what he has stated. If, in fact, he does not like me then why does he say the sweetest things and treat amazingly? Why do we still kiss? And yes, I have brought up my opinion why we still kiss. (Because he's a guy, and guys need guy things and need to get things out in guy ways and that doesn't constitute him having feelings for me) However, after stating my opinion, he completely puts that thought down and reassures me that its because he does in fact care for me deeply. Ok. Well, then I don't get why you dont like me? Also, his friends have approached me. His FRIENDS, his homeboys, his dogs, his bros...however you want to put it, they approached me telling me how much this guy really really cares for me. Exact words? "You make our friend really happy". My rebuttle? "All girls make him happy". And while they could not dissagree, they simply said that I meant more to him than any other does and that if I stick around and just be the girl that he likes to be around like I am, they think he'll evenutally come around and want to be with me. Well, you know, maybe I don't deserve to wait. In fact, I know that I dont deserve to wait. So, while I'll still be that girl that he likes to hang around, I will not be that girl that hangs around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8930340199238782345?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8930340199238782345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8930340199238782345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8930340199238782345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8930340199238782345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2009/01/friendor-foe.html' title='Friend....Or Foe??'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8728237999548629935</id><published>2008-12-11T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:34:30.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>another one of those days...</title><content type='html'>I tried to do that whole hiatus thing today. It worked for the most part, I guess. After I got off of work, I went back to my place and had lunch and then slpet for like 4 hours. Then, of course, because I am such a people person, I had to talk to someone. So, it started out with Lena, ending with a few errand runs for her. Then, Jono stopped by and I hung out with him and THAT led to shots at Picassos with Lena, Jono, and Patrick. Which was cool. I love them so thats no biggie. And then, while I was with India and Brittain, HE came in to say goodnight. One of the people I didn't want to see. Here's to tomorrow, I guess. I think that may go over better because I have work at 4pm, which means when I get off, I can go to bed and then I won't even have a chance to see him. I don't know why I'm feeling the way I am towards him. I mean, as Katie kindly pointed out, I was so unsure about him BEFORE he actually told me that he didn't care about me 'that way'. So why am I all stressed out now? I guess its because he was the guy I thought I could fall back on and then I realized I couldn't. So now I'm left feeling stupid. Hell, I don't really know HOW I feel. I like him, I don't like him, in fact, I HATE him, but I love him to death. Maybe I just liked the thought of him. Maybe I just liked the thought of him liking me. I still feel a little animosity towards him, hence not wanting to see him. My goal is to stay away until after break, and then by then, I doubt I'll even care anymore. And then it can be like it was when I made fun of him and there was that friendly banter between us. How about, I am done with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8728237999548629935?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8728237999548629935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8728237999548629935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8728237999548629935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8728237999548629935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-one-of-those-days.html' title='another one of those days...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-3759266761756285956</id><published>2008-12-09T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T22:46:14.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can't Always Get What You Want...</title><content type='html'>"...but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have been so consumed with just everything. Life. School. I'm sure I look fine on the outside, but inside I am such a wreck. I get around certain people and I just feel so self-conscious and I just want to break down and cry. I feel like things are going my way and not all at the same time. I'm starting to really hate parts of my past, but I guess those parts were essential to becoming who I am today, though sometime I hate that too. I think I may go on a hiatus soon. I can't be around a certain person because I just can't. I start to act weird: not myself at all. And it's mainly because I feel like I've lost my ability to let my gaurd down around them, which I hate, because it hasn't always been that way. I want to go back a little ways and take away all my feelings and then maybe things wouldn't be like they are now. So there's that. And then, the self-conscious/paranoid side of me kicks in and I start to doubt friendships and things that I think are true. Just so this next part will make sense (to me), I feel like I must share this; I may be "pretty", but I have ALWAYS been the best friend: the other girl. It has happened several times throughout my life where I would like a guy and he would meet my best friend at the moment and go for her. And sometimes she would pursue it and other times not. Either way, that always remains in the back of my mind. He liked her instead of me. And the friendship, of course, is never and will never be the same again. Alas, it has happened yet again, and even though my best friend is totally against dating this guy and claims she could never like him back, the fact that he likes her is enough for me to become very standoff-ish even though she doesn't deserve it because it is not her fault. That is the other reason I want to go on this hiatus. To get away from all of that and not have to deal with it, though i know I inevitably will have to. Till then, my room is warm and there are always new books to read and shows to watch. I have work tomorrow and then I think I may just cut myself off from the world. I need a break from it and it needs a break from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-3759266761756285956?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/3759266761756285956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=3759266761756285956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3759266761756285956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/3759266761756285956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-cant-always-get-what-you-want.html' title='You Can&apos;t Always Get What You Want...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8259191524166717593</id><published>2008-10-21T19:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T19:22:31.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...the little things</title><content type='html'>Today was not spectacular or amazing or anything other fantastic word that you could come up with. Well, it was none of those things when you look at other days, where it was obviously so. After everything has been said and done, and I am sitting here half writing a blog/half on facebook, I realized the smallest, tiniest, most amazing and wonderful things that have happened to me today! Whether it was when "someone" was just so genuinely nice to me, or the fact that I got to spend time with a friend that I hadn't seen in awhile, it all made my day. So much so that when I saw that "someone" on facebook, I was so tempted to just say 'thank you'. Not that that person would know what I was talking about, and after explaining I doubt he would really GET it, you know? Eh, that's okay though. These are MY small personal and wonderful things. I guess no one else really has to understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8259191524166717593?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8259191524166717593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8259191524166717593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8259191524166717593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8259191524166717593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/10/little-things.html' title='...the little things'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-1288646608194034785</id><published>2008-08-18T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T23:03:32.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and then there were none...</title><content type='html'>what i don't really understand and understand completely all at the same time is how people can treat people/friends/whatever so horribly sometimes, knowing that this person/friend/whatever could, in a heartbeat, be gone from your life forever. friends or people that i know who have died recently, weren't old people aka. people you assume will die soon. these people have been the same age as me or at least close to it. this just proves that, as inevitable as death is, it is also just as unpredictable. why would we want to spend our time and breath on fighting or bickering or generally just disliking someone when we could spend just as much time and energy loving them and making life as nice and amazing for them as possible. you just never know when people are going to dissappear from your life and you really need to cherish these people and learn to forgive and forget while you have the opportunity. i know the last thing anyone wants to be doing after someone's death is beating themselves up because they regret never saying "i'm sorry". or wondering whether or not they could have done something different or better. for crying out loud JUST DO IT!!! be the difference NOW! don't wait, because waiting accomplishes nothing. i guess all i'm trying to say is love as much as you can and as many people as you can, because God gave us the ability to love for a reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-1288646608194034785?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/1288646608194034785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=1288646608194034785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/1288646608194034785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/1288646608194034785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-then-there-were-none.html' title='and then there were none...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-126274151656307540</id><published>2008-08-13T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:56:15.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...the ending to my beginning</title><content type='html'>so, this summer is already over and as much as i am absolutely stoked to be going back to columbus tomorrow, i am equally just as sad to be leaving behind a wonderful eventful summer. people i never would have thought i'd be friends with are the people who are the nearest and dearest and the people i will miss so much. and yes, i'll even miss Boy oddly enough.&lt;br /&gt;goodbye summer, hello school year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-126274151656307540?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/126274151656307540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=126274151656307540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/126274151656307540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/126274151656307540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/ending-to-my-beginning.html' title='...the ending to my beginning'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-2421133960288266702</id><published>2008-08-12T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T14:38:06.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...the kind you take home</title><content type='html'>I am one of those girls you take home to mom,&lt;br /&gt;yet my actions and behavior I fear are counteracting that.&lt;br /&gt;The way I let guys use me,&lt;br /&gt;blinded by their intentions until its too late.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the girl guys bring home to their mom.&lt;br /&gt;Always.&lt;br /&gt;Not just for some guys,&lt;br /&gt;but good enough for all guys.&lt;br /&gt;From now on I will be&lt;br /&gt;that girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-2421133960288266702?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/2421133960288266702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=2421133960288266702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2421133960288266702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2421133960288266702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/kind-you-take-home.html' title='...the kind you take home'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-5388517526137393565</id><published>2008-08-09T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T12:32:21.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i can hear the bells...</title><content type='html'>so everyone and their mother is getting married...&lt;br /&gt;one part of me longs for that...&lt;br /&gt;the other part?...&lt;br /&gt;HA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-5388517526137393565?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/5388517526137393565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=5388517526137393565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/5388517526137393565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/5388517526137393565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-can-hear-bells.html' title='i can hear the bells...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-2890969013320489110</id><published>2008-08-06T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T19:33:38.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just some randomness</title><content type='html'>8/5/08 (Sometime, somewhere in my car)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The weight of my past is oppressing.&lt;br /&gt;I'm breaking beneath it's pressure.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was stronger than it.&lt;br /&gt;Having to constantly drag it with me.&lt;br /&gt;Shackled to it, link by link.&lt;br /&gt;I need to break free, or it very well&lt;br /&gt;may be my destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on to today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got my tires changed, thank goodness! I can stop worrying and wondering when my tire is gonna blow. I got to spend a little time with my dad, who tried to convince me on the ride to Walmart AND back to audition for American Idol. Most of the time I spent laughing at this idea. HA! Later on, after the tire, I had dinner with the fam which was nice then I made a comment about my aunt. I asked her about her two dogs, Sake and Chablis, who have been part of the family for years. I mean, I absolutely adored them. Come to find out, they both got put to sleep because they were just too darn old to live anymore. Chablis went first then Sake about 2 weeks later. And I just wished that they would have called me about Sake. At least given me the opportunity to come and see her before she went. Sake was my favorite. The one I identified most with, if that's even possible. I loved her so much because she loved me, simply, and without any questions. It didn't matter how cool (or, let's face it, how uncool) I was in middle school (or, let's face it, high school), Sake loved me for me! I know I sound like a total nutcase right now. I mean, I'm talking about a DOG! But I really loved her. It's funny how no matter how long I'd be gone (and I'm talking months), she'd always know exactly who I was when I'd return. And she'd always sleep with me, right behind my knees where they bent. Anyways, I pretty much cried all the way home. Oh, and yes, I loved Chablis too, but she was so prissy and always snapped at me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-2890969013320489110?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/2890969013320489110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=2890969013320489110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2890969013320489110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2890969013320489110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-some-randomness.html' title='just some randomness'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-2174607932355905496</id><published>2008-08-05T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T15:42:01.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh sweet accomplishment!</title><content type='html'>today probably has been one of the most productive days i've had all summer. i mean, yes, i do go to work and get stuff done there, but as far as personal productive days, i've had none. BUT, today, i woke up with a twinkle in my eye and a will to get things done! so, even though what i'm about to list as my accomplishments probably seem trivial and insignificant to most, these are milestones (yes, milestones baby!) to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I Did TODAY!!:&lt;br /&gt;-woke up at a decent hour (ha!)&lt;br /&gt;-paid like 3 different bills (columbia house, cell phone, car insurance)&lt;br /&gt;-tried to donate blood (damn low iron)&lt;br /&gt;-cleaned out my car (...nasty)&lt;br /&gt;-washed my car (vacuumed and lathered that bad boy up!)&lt;br /&gt;-and to top that shiz off, i even bought a car freshener and sani-wipes (hoo yeh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and THAT was my super productive day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. i bought new towels for my dorm room : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-2174607932355905496?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/2174607932355905496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=2174607932355905496' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2174607932355905496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/2174607932355905496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-sweet-accomplishment.html' title='oh sweet accomplishment!'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-6739677025194047844</id><published>2008-08-02T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T16:55:26.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesh!!</title><content type='html'>i was, surprisingly, in a good mood today at work. i don't know what it was, but i didn't have to urge to punch someone, not even once! i don't ask questions, i just just thank God. honestly though, it's not even the job that frustrates me. i just tend to get a little antsy at the end of things (this being the end of summer). i am just super ready to go back to columbus and be with my friends and just get back into the routine that i have. 12 more days!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-6739677025194047844?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/6739677025194047844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=6739677025194047844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6739677025194047844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6739677025194047844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/08/yesh.html' title='Yesh!!'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-486178551304135178</id><published>2008-07-30T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T19:31:24.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>schtoof</title><content type='html'>currently, i am eating ice cream and this has to be the most amazing thing that i've put into my mouth in awhile! really it's quite fantastic! aside from this wonderful experience i do have something more important to put out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-i've recently developed this kindergarten crush on a guy that i work with. he really is a swell guy, but i've been wondering lately why i am even wasting my time on something that, in the end, will amount to nothing. i surely am not looking for anything serious, especially from a guy here, especially since i am heading back to columbus super soon. i don't think my crush has been obvious because i have been making an effort to NOT make it obvious. the other night however, i was talking to him online, and he pretty much admitted to having feelings for me, but quickly followed that up with "but i don't want to be in a serious relationship"....okay? and? what do you want exactly? i mean, why would he even tell me that he likes me when he doesn't want anything from it. it's like lying all your cards face-up on the table for nothing. i didn't really know what to say. stupidly, i asked if he was just looking to hook up (because i'm so over that). he said no (thank goodness). we then said, pretty generically, that we should hang out soon. and since then, i've had so many things running through my head. and then i came to a conclusion. i do not want to put up with any of this. despite that it could possibly maybe but probably not, turn into something great, i just don't want to deal with it. so i am not. and in a true kindergarten crush sort of way, i will most likely just ignore the situatin and him until i am back at school. and then i can send a little message explaining how sorry i am that i didn't get to say goodbye before i left and that maybe i'll see him throughout the year. if not then definitely next summer. i am cutting this rope now and letting that boat float wherever else it needs to, because it isn't docking here. he's cute, but definitely not worth it. sorry buddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-486178551304135178?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/486178551304135178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=486178551304135178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/486178551304135178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/486178551304135178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/07/schtoof.html' title='schtoof'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-93412703017973412</id><published>2008-07-21T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T19:58:12.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>down...foot...mine</title><content type='html'>Let me preface by saying that I had an absolutely AMAZING time in Columbus this weekend. I adored seeing all of my wonderful friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired and exhausted and fed-up and just thoroughly pissed that I let myself get walked on and pushed around by a certain someone. He snaps his fingers and I come a-runnning and that is so very pathetic of me. I am putting my foot down. I'm exclaming my freedom from *his controlling nature. That's all it is. It isn't about emotions, except for maybe the ones that pour from me when I have nothing to think about and lots of alone time. It isn't about the physicality of it, though I did think it was about that. Oh, no, it's about the whole control aspect. *He is controlling me and how I think and feel and he knows he can get what he wants when he wants it and I AM FED UP!!!! *He can't anymore, I won't let him. *He can go fuck off for all I care. I've done a lot of thinking (I had a good 5 hour ride back to Camden) and I know in my very being that I never want to date him again...I never want to be his friend. *He doesn't deserve anything, ANYTHING, I have to offer. *He is nowhere near being worthy and I am so happy that I have finally come to my senses and realized this. I am happy that I can finally say this and actually mean it. In the past I'd say this, but in my heart, I would tell myself that that isn't true and that one day, we'd be together, either as a couple or as friends. HA! No more! I do have to thank *him for making me realize that I am through putting up with this bullshit and that I deserve someone 10 times better a person than he will ever, EVER EVER EVER be! THANK YOU to the asshole that toughened me up a little bit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-93412703017973412?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/93412703017973412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=93412703017973412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/93412703017973412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/93412703017973412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/07/downfootmine.html' title='down...foot...mine'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-4012783372111670717</id><published>2008-07-16T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T15:19:51.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>newly dug grave</title><content type='html'>so i'm in a financial hole right now that i cannot seem to dig myself out of no matter how hard i work. and then i get phone call today about some more money i owe, omg! i think i may not audition next semester and just get a job and try and get myself back on track. i absolutely hate considering this option but i really can't think of anything else to do. i mean, i really want/need to come back to csu, so staying in camden for a semester is really out of the equation. ughhh, i don't know what do to...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-4012783372111670717?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/4012783372111670717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=4012783372111670717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4012783372111670717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4012783372111670717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/07/newly-dug-grave.html' title='newly dug grave'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7931367457883402180</id><published>2008-07-14T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T16:56:48.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in the Middle</title><content type='html'>1. Sooo, I (and some co-workers: the lovely Brookey-poo, K-Town down, and Ker-Bear) will be making our way down to Itchatutney (lord, i don't know how to spell it) Springs! I'm super excited a) because I think I'll be able to even up these nasty tan lines and b) i've never really got to hang out with Keri besides at work and well, it's work, so yah! Pretty much, when you're at home doing nada or just the norm, think of me floating down a river enjoying all the beauty that nature has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I met a boy which I refer to as boy whenever I speak of him. Boy is pretty nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm ready to go back to school. I mean, I like the money that I'm raking in now, but I miss my friends and just the norm of everyday Columbus life. I'm visiting Thursday through Saturday and I CANNOT wait! Mmmmm :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7931367457883402180?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7931367457883402180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7931367457883402180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7931367457883402180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7931367457883402180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/07/stuck-in-middle.html' title='Stuck in the Middle'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7706261987945511554</id><published>2008-07-12T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T15:07:45.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crawling, Standing, Walking, Flying...</title><content type='html'>My life is good...&lt;br /&gt;This summer has been very much so needed...&lt;br /&gt;I am in a place within myself that is happy and healthy...&lt;br /&gt;I am learning and living...&lt;br /&gt;I am over what was and am embracing what will be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot express how much all of the above has helped me thus far. I think I was just fed up with happenings in Columbus and now that I've gotten a chance to step back from it all, I've finally been shown the bigger picture. Anyways, let's take a little detour to stuff that's been going on this summer. First and foremost, I went to New York and LOVED it! I mean who doesn't love that city? (except for my dad, psh) I'm making plans now to go back over Christmas break, and if anyone is interested, please, let me know because I don't know if I'd be able to fly alone. (scary) Also, I completed my Chick-fil-a tour of Georgia yesterday with my friend Kathryn. It was amazing! People were loving us! I felt a little like a celebrity and honestly, by the end of the day, I got kinda tired of people taking my picture all the time. Thank you so much Jonathan, India, and Dureyea for meeting us in Columbus! You made my whole day just to see you! ANNDD, plans for Tuesday (because today is Saturday) are that me and a couple of my friends from work are planning on going to some springs and floating down ice cold rivers. I mean, what could get better than that, right?! I'm going to Columbus Thursday. I cannot wait. I miss people like absolute craziness. I love my friends here, but here I'm crazy Sam who sings all the time and is REALLY FRICKIN' unique. In Columbus, I have friends who want to do MORE than drink all the time and hook up. Okay, so my Columbus friends like to drink, but we definitely draw the line there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, the point of me telling you all about how great my summer has been and how wonderful my life has been this past month or two is a mere declaration of my independence and a declaration of the all consuming love I feel inside. I was reading blogs from previous months and I was pitiful. I mean, just ridiculous. I was so worried about what "he" thought and how "he" treated me and honestly, I guess I never stopped to look at how I was treating myself. Definitely worse than he could ever do because, he is great...for someone else. And now that knowing that has reconstucted itself in me, I have been able to rebuild, redefine, relax, and guess what? Move on...I'm not going to lie and tell you that I had some epiphony or someone came to visit me in a dream and relayed all this confidence and positive energy. Oh no! Honestly, it was after I read the book Eat, Love, Pray (which I owe my whole summer to) that I was finally able to grasp what friends have been trying to beat into me all year! Thank you friends! Anyways, that's that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7706261987945511554?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7706261987945511554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7706261987945511554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7706261987945511554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7706261987945511554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/07/crawling-standing-walking-flying.html' title='Crawling, Standing, Walking, Flying...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8478203434728865402</id><published>2008-06-13T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T16:02:20.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so far</title><content type='html'>this summer i've tried to really regain a sense of who i am and what i love. in return, i've come to realize things that complete me and make me happy. things that i will always have with me even when life takes away. i've made this summer about me and as selfish as this may sound, i think this may be the most unselfish things i've done lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8478203434728865402?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8478203434728865402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8478203434728865402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8478203434728865402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8478203434728865402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-far.html' title='so far'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-9095912789467995750</id><published>2008-05-11T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T20:57:27.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...are you lost or incomplete</title><content type='html'>I seriously am starting to think that there is something wrong with me. I just don't feel like myself anymore. I'm doubting friendships, I'm doubting myself, I'm doubting life in general. I'm doing things I don't necessarily want to do yet I do them anyways because who the fuck cares anymore. I don't. I feel depressed. I honestly think that I may be. That's so sad to say, but I think it's true. And it's not like I'm all like "Woe is me" all the time or anything. I just feel sad a lot and think about stupid things all the time even when I am surrounded by friends. I'm desperately hoping that this summer will bring about a well needed peace of self. I really want to spend this summer trying to find ME. I want to work out and eat healthy to better myself and I want to read and get tan. I think these things may help me in the long run. I'm just sick and tired of being here in Columbus around people who are so fucking fake sometimes. I'm fed up with peoplen in generaln right  now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-9095912789467995750?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/9095912789467995750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=9095912789467995750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/9095912789467995750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/9095912789467995750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/05/are-you-lost-or-incomplete.html' title='...are you lost or incomplete'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-6037066827183101539</id><published>2008-05-11T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T10:17:53.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel...</title><content type='html'>...lonely&lt;br /&gt;...bored&lt;br /&gt;...unwanted&lt;br /&gt;...useless&lt;br /&gt;...like a burden&lt;br /&gt;...stupid&lt;br /&gt;...ignored&lt;br /&gt;...like i'm annoying&lt;br /&gt;...left behind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-6037066827183101539?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/6037066827183101539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=6037066827183101539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6037066827183101539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6037066827183101539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-feel.html' title='I feel...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8399030839247720578</id><published>2008-05-04T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T07:42:08.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets do not make friends...</title><content type='html'>I have this secret that honestly should have been kept for quite some time. It's a different kind of secret; an on and off again kind of secret. For the most part I enjoy it, but it always comes around to nip me in the butt. Sometimes it helps more than harms and other times it harms way more than it could ever help. For obvious reasons I can never reveal this secret on here, but it is a good one. One that, this time, I shall tell no one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8399030839247720578?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8399030839247720578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8399030839247720578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8399030839247720578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8399030839247720578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/05/secrets-do-not-make-friends.html' title='Secrets do not make friends...'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-4471510540920083172</id><published>2008-05-03T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:59:39.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I &lt;3 Photography</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Just a quick little something before I post something that I found. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since I was little, I've known what I wanted to be when I grew up. (An actress, for those of you who care to know.) But then I started to think about my side job and what I'd be when I wasn't acting aaannndd, photography was it! (Well, that and owning my own restaurant/bakery/coffee shop, and also writing for a magazine.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I was google-ing it up tonight and I stumbled across this photo that I absolutely loved. Enjoy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SB1BrCow6fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wp3kGRuu_e0/s1600-h/4+photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196381752753449458" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SB1BrCow6fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wp3kGRuu_e0/s320/4+photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-4471510540920083172?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/4471510540920083172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=4471510540920083172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4471510540920083172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/4471510540920083172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-3-photography.html' title='I &lt;3 Photography'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SB1BrCow6fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wp3kGRuu_e0/s72-c/4+photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7741770406895833590</id><published>2008-05-03T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T19:26:11.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts and Such</title><content type='html'>Remember when I mentioned before that "people ruin people"? I was thinking about that when I wrote this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this song called Human by Jon McLaughlin and in this song there is line that states:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...after all, we're only human. Always fighting what we're feeling. Hurt instead of healing. Is there any other reason that we stay instead of leaving?" I suppose part of our inabilities come from ourselves and the way that "we accept the love we think we deserve". (a quote from 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend India had a very interesting post about this quote that I'd love to share:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;""We accept the love we think we deserve."-The Perks of Being a Wallflower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been wondering exactly what this quote meant to me and I think I've finally come to a revelation.Maybe he's fallen out of love with you and you don't know why, or maybe she's obviously still in love with you, but her affections are being shown to another man. Maybe he's too blind to see how perfect you really are for him, or maybe she lets what other people think keep her from being with you, maybe he's too afraid to love you…it doesn't matter. The point is if we accept the love we think we deserve then what does that say about what we think we deserve? And what does that say about these people that have a hold on our hearts? It's been tearing me up inside lately, and I've just been puzzled about what I should do. The thing is I know that the love I deserve, the love we all deserve, is a love where we are loved in return. Obviously we all see something amazing in that other person; something worth fighting for, something that's kept us around for this long, something that makes it hard for us to let go. But in the long run, by holding on so ardently and by hoping, wishing, praying that he'll come around. That he'll realize how well you work together; how perfect things could be we're losing sight of what we deserve and focusing only on what we feel. We're giving up. I saw another quote somewhere that said, "Sometimes its best to forget what you feel and remember what you deserve." When you get so caught up in that "perfect" person, you miss the opportunity to find the person who really is perfect for you. If these people that we have given our hearts to don't appreciate it…do they really deserve us? Or maybe it's just that we're so comfortable with them that we're afraid to let go and see what could really be waiting for us."Eventually one of two things will happen: he'll realize you're worth it or you'll finally realize he isn't.""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just though that this would be nice to share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my biggest thing is realizing this for myself. It's just that when it comes to matters of the heart, not only do I follow my heart, but in most cases I follow my gut. Speaking of the gut, during 'Blood Wedding', Becky talked to us a lot about this concept of "duende". As simply as it gets, here is the meaning of duende:"Duende is a struggle and not a concept. It is not in the throat, but comes up from inside, up from the very soles of the feet."Basically for me that means that duende is something that comes from our very being that can't really be explained but can be expressed by examples of things, songs, experiences, people. I think that duende can produce itself in many different forms. Pretty much duende is whatever makes you FEEL. Like, really FEEL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot lately about this person who has been this "thing" in my life since I met this person. And as much as I sometimes wish that they were not part of my life (for different reasons), I think that their being in my life is sort of an inevitable thing. Something that has needed to happen for one reason or another. I've liked this person since the moment I met them. We've tried being an "us" a few times, but for reasons that I really don't understand, it has never really worked out. Maybe it's him, or maybe it's me. Maybe it's neither or both. Who knows? But the point is, I have this gut feeling that this person is supposed to be in my life. At this point I'm starting to think that I'm crazy, but honestly, I haven't felt this strongly about someone in so long. Right now, I think that I'm waiting for something to happen, not wanting to budge an inch till something does. But I guess it's time to move on and see what happens. I just pray that even though we may never be a "we", at least we can be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing I want to share before I end this monster. It is a poem Becky shared with us, which explains a lot about how I feel about this person. I mean, don't get me wrong. This is not a literal translation of my exact feelings, but it speaks about love and, even though I am not "in love" with this person, I have a love for him that just cannot be explained. I made the part that really hits home the most a little bolder than the rest of the text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. &lt;strong&gt;I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where&lt;/strong&gt;, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7741770406895833590?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7741770406895833590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7741770406895833590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7741770406895833590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7741770406895833590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/05/thoughts-and-such.html' title='Thoughts and Such'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-6137178376024274965</id><published>2008-01-06T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T20:31:27.932-08:00</updated><title type='text'>school daze</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, I'm heading back to school tomorrow, which excites me and scares me all at the same time. I need so badly to do well this semester. I guess we'll see. Also, I'm not working at Houlihan's during the week anymore which is good because I'll be able to focus only on school during the week, but I'll also miss seeing certain people especially when I feel like that is the only time I see those certain people. Anyways....wish me luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-6137178376024274965?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/6137178376024274965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=6137178376024274965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6137178376024274965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6137178376024274965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/01/school-daze.html' title='school daze'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-6963576192455839163</id><published>2008-01-05T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T15:23:06.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adjusting to the New You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are several things that I wanted to accomplish this year, which I have already seemed to be failing at miserably. I haven't even attempted to stop smoking yet. Actually, I just bought a new pack yesterday. And, so far, I have spent the money to open a gym membership, but have only worked out once...for like 10 minutes. This whole not dating thing? HA! Well, I DID talk to Patrick and work things out. What I got from the conversation was that we both like hanging out with each other and whatever happens, happens, but we are NOT dating. And that is a-okay with me. But then that exact night, "somebody else" got home and well...one thing lead to another. But I don't want to date him. I don't want to date anyone. Then I met this guy last night, who I've met before, but we actually seemed to "hit it off" last night when we met again. He added me to facebook and everything...ooh! I'm supposed to go to a party tonight, but after partying it up last night then calling out of work today, I feel so guilty with myself, I feel like I should just go to bed early tonight and get to work early tomorrow, you know? School starts Monday and I am so very excited. I need something to do with my time. I hate being out of school for too long. I don't know if I could handle a semester off. I'd probably shoot myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-6963576192455839163?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/6963576192455839163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=6963576192455839163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6963576192455839163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/6963576192455839163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/01/adjusting-to-new-you.html' title='Adjusting to the New You'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-7095132609813868039</id><published>2008-01-02T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T20:46:09.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the end of what was and the beginning of what will be</title><content type='html'>i need to speak with patrick.&lt;br /&gt;it's been building up inside of me,&lt;br /&gt;what is right and what is wrong&lt;br /&gt;what i feel and what i don't&lt;br /&gt;what i should say, want to say&lt;br /&gt;but can't.&lt;br /&gt;i tried to call him tonight.&lt;br /&gt;"out at dinner. later." is all i got in reply.&lt;br /&gt;and is all i got for the night.&lt;br /&gt;so i sent another bitchy text&lt;br /&gt;like i always do when i feel like&lt;br /&gt;i've been made a fool yet again.&lt;br /&gt;he makes me feel like that&lt;br /&gt;a lot.&lt;br /&gt;and i hate it.&lt;br /&gt;a lot.&lt;br /&gt;i finally had the words, i've had the words&lt;br /&gt;and i finally felt like i knew exactly what to say&lt;br /&gt;but i didn't get my big break.&lt;br /&gt;i'll see him at work tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;like i always do&lt;br /&gt;and i pray to God that the words will come.&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm so upset because i miss the way&lt;br /&gt;he always used to come in with a big smile&lt;br /&gt;just for me. looks i stole from him that were&lt;br /&gt;only mine. and now i feel like i am not even ever&lt;br /&gt;acknowledged. i want those smiles, i want those looks.&lt;br /&gt;i want to be his best friend and his worst enemy&lt;br /&gt;all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;awkwardness can be so beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;someone once said to embrace the awkwardness&lt;br /&gt;because that is what makes like so grand.&lt;br /&gt;this awkwardness that i feel around him is&lt;br /&gt;not beautiful. it's saddening and unfair.&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow will be the end of what was&lt;br /&gt;and the beginning of what will be.&lt;br /&gt;and i pray that what will be is beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-7095132609813868039?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/7095132609813868039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=7095132609813868039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7095132609813868039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/7095132609813868039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/01/end-of-what-was-and-beginning-of-what.html' title='the end of what was and the beginning of what will be'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5195117665233755670.post-8367974134697254262</id><published>2008-01-01T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T13:04:23.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beginning of Another Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The beginning of another year and so many things that I want to accomplish. It amazes me how much has happened in one year and I wonder what this year has in store. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;After much thought, I have come up with my resolutions for this year and I plan on sticking to them. My first resolution: STOP SMOKING!! First off, I should have never started, because a) it really is a gross habit, but jeez, sometimes a cigarette is just so very good. Best cigarettes of my life would have to be the first one ever and the first one of the day. I will miss these moments dearly because I felt that, even if for a moment, I was able to stop time for a second and I had no worries or fears. Just calm. Anywho, no more smoking. My second resolution is: LOSE SOME WEIGHT!! Just a few pounds...really, I just need tone up some. The big thing is that by this summer, I want a flat stomach. I want swimsuit season to be a good season for me, you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Besides this, there are some things that I really want to happen so that I can be a stronger person. I am done dating people for awhile. I liked a guy that I worked with and dated him. It didn't work out and right now I'm not sure what our status is exactly. It shouldn't be that way though. I should know exactly what is going on and since I don't I have come to the point where I feel like, no matter what he is thinking, I have to do whats right for me. Which means that I am NOT dating him anymore. I refuse to be treated less than what I deserve. From this point on he will only be my friend and honestly, that is wearing thin right now too. Last night, as you know, was New Years Eve. I called him several times to wish him a Happy New Year and he didn't answer...not even once. Even a good friend would answer, so it doesnt matter if we are dating or not. That was probably one of the most heartbreaking things for me to begin my New Year with. So, this is why I am done dating people. I have been dating some person or another back to back since this summer and even though I have been single for a bigger percentage of my life, I feel like I need to be single for awhile and figure out what I really need. You know, like really find what makes my life harmonious for lack of a better word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Also, I hate how people treat people in relationships. People ruin people. The reason people freak out about relationships when they're in relationships is because some jackass who came before ripped our hearts out and stomped on them. It's so hard to walk away from a relationship that ended as a completely whole person. Because I believe that every person that you are involved with takes a little piece of you with them until eventually you are left with nothing. You want to know why people are so willing to not believe before they will believe or not trust before they'll actually trust? It's because how people treated us before. It the piece of us that they took. It's the lessons we learned and the tears we cried. It's the hours wasted away. People ruin people. And it's so very sad to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5195117665233755670-8367974134697254262?l=sammiemay.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/feeds/8367974134697254262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5195117665233755670&amp;postID=8367974134697254262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8367974134697254262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5195117665233755670/posts/default/8367974134697254262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sammiemay.blogspot.com/2008/01/beginning-of-another-year.html' title='The Beginning of Another Year'/><author><name>SammieMay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14566328591645463622</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_gW-NbQANxgs/SHk-q4j-sVI/AAAAAAAAAAg/w3RLUhRWPl4/S220/sam3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
