<?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-3730999887979453270</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:06:54.567-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thunderstruck</title><subtitle type='html'>Sometimes life just doesn't go to plan....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-5189846934519147946</id><published>2008-01-21T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T12:23:41.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Emergency 72</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know, I know, I have been crap when it comes to posting the last couple of months. I apologize. I also wish I could come up with a few good excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we are being negative (do we ever stop on this blog?), I have been cutting myself since before Christmas and I'm not sure how to stop or even if I want to. The reason why I am telling you this is because I have to tell someone, not as a "cry for help" or whatever, just so that I can feel  less guilty about the whole thing. Because its not like my parents have noticed or ever would notice unless I cut my entire arm off&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. As long as I get up early, do my chores, get on with my work and don't answer back, I'm not sure they'd really care.&lt;/span&gt; And its not as if I could tell Vic because she can't bear it when I talk about my depression or being ill or anything like that. She doesn't say so, but I know her attitude towards the depression is just "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get over it!&lt;/span&gt;". I would tell Lilly because she is the most understanding, but I know she'd freak and make me "get help". Or I could tell Carley because &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;shes tried to kill herself loads of times so she could hardly judge&lt;/span&gt;. But shes not been in touch lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is I don't need to "get help" and I don't even feel the need to tell an actual person. The reason for this is because, crazy as it sounds, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it makes me happy&lt;/span&gt;. It does. It gives me somewhere to focus all my feelings without bothering anyone else. And before you lot all freak out on me, its all totally under control. I clean out the cuts and never go too deep, and I only do it when I'm really upset. I think this sort of thing is totally fine as long as you keep a tight leash on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only person who may suspect anything is my brother who once bore witness to me crying uncontrollably for no reason why day. I really couldn't explain to him why or even thing of an excuse for it so I just told him I would be fine and not to tell mum and dad. Then I went into the bathroom and cut myself, and my brother told me I looked much happier when I came back in.&lt;br /&gt;He saw the cuts on my arm a few weeks ago too, but I told him it was nothing and he is too young and frankly, slow, to put two and two together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, Vic and I are starting to think about summer plans and they all sound sooo exciting! I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;its only just over 9 weeks til I go back to London!&lt;/span&gt; I reckon maybe I'll be happier when I get back and manage kick my habit into touch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-5189846934519147946?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/5189846934519147946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=5189846934519147946' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/5189846934519147946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/5189846934519147946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2008/01/emergency-72.html' title='Emergency 72'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-1261902034033784056</id><published>2007-12-29T18:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T18:39:11.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Hour</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like my life is just one big guilt trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often wonder who's getting off on watching me do all the things I feel obligated to do. I also wonder why I feel so damn guilty all the time. Why do I even care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written in almost a month, mostly because I haven't had time, what with mum's birthday, our mini-break to the Alabama border, and, of course, Christmas. But now the new year is approaching and I suddenly feel like I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; to write again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its time for resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe thats why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week my horoscope has been telling me to let go of my grudges. Don't worry though, I'm not stupid enough to believe I actually could. I nurture my grudges like children, thrive on the idea of having someone to hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We're all addicted to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I dunno. Its probably the worst thing about me, but I know that all I can do is finally put my grudges to use. This is what 2008 is going to be all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of wallowing in hate all the time. Its a guilty pleasure, but such pleasures aren't supposed to consume our lives and hold us back. They are supposed to be driving forces. Reasons to do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I need now is a goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-1261902034033784056?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/1261902034033784056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=1261902034033784056' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1261902034033784056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1261902034033784056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-hour.html' title='Happy Hour'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-4724860813154566165</id><published>2007-11-30T13:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T13:53:57.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Very Best</title><content type='html'>I'm not too great today because Michael, a very close family friend of our family, has just been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour and all of a sudden we are all being told he has one,at most three, months to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and his wife both taught me at school and its all pretty devastating. My mum is over at their house right now and me and my dad are going over later. Its all really awful for everyone because they are two of the nicest people I know and Michael always used to wear stripy coloured socks even though he was always very quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, we all only just got over JP killing himself and Michael's wife Caroline was best friend's with JP's mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this tumour stuff has just happened within the last few days and everything is going very fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;People I know keep dying and it just doesn't seem right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-4724860813154566165?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/4724860813154566165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=4724860813154566165' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/4724860813154566165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/4724860813154566165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-very-best.html' title='My Very Best'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-1201812821453560907</id><published>2007-11-26T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T13:47:57.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Hearts</title><content type='html'>Looking forward to getting back more than ever, despite the fact that my whole life in London seems so far away now that I almost feel like it never happened, that maybe it was just all part of some really long dream. Its weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I have hundreds of plans for when I get back. It'll be like a fresh start all over again, a chance to be the person I really want to be, not the one that halls ended up pushing me into being. I'm going to go out less and look after myself more. I'll eat better and sleep about 7.5 hours almost every night because they say thats the perfect amount of sleep. I'll join the gym and take vitamins and go back to dance class. I'll be a better friend and pay less attention to boys (if not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no attention&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my emotions have been a little erratic lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I had a pretty frightening cancer scare and on the same day Vic told me that &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Paddy&lt;/span&gt; has a girlfriend now and that shes really fit (obviously I never told her about the cancer scare). It was just bad timing I guess because I got really upset about it. I was just like, hes a fucking bastard who got off on trying to ruin my life and he gets a fit girlfriend and all I've ever tried to be is a good person and I get cancer. How does he get to be happy???? Its just so unfair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess most people would assume I'd be upset because I'd be jealous of the girlfriend, but I promise, that really isn't the case. If anything, I feel sorry for her. I guess the real reason I was so upset was just because I felt like it was such solid proof that there is no karma in the world and certainly no justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone deserved to remain single forever and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;die a virgin&lt;/span&gt;, it was him. And I know it sounds terrible, but that boy, someone who I thought was one of my best friends made me so miserable that I cant help but mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stabbed in the back by both Joanna and Paddy (and they are just those that were closest to me) in one year? I'll never let myself get that close to anyone ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked the girlfriend out on facebook and now i feel a lot better. Shes cute and blonde and perky. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shes everything that I'm not, and everything that I have no urge to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cancer scare turned out to be just that, a scare. I've never been so relieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its made me even more determined to make a proper go of things when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just 130 days left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-1201812821453560907?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/1201812821453560907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=1201812821453560907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1201812821453560907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1201812821453560907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/11/2-hearts.html' title='2 Hearts'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-6985304791439264971</id><published>2007-11-19T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T15:00:03.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beetlebum</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if my mother is right, and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am addicted to OTC meds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing is, even though I know that taking too much Ibuprofen can lead to stomach ulcers, I also know that Advil works for just about any pain that exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, I tell my mum not to be so bloody ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me to another thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am a hypocrite.&lt;/span&gt; And I'm sure that writing it is not nearly as hard as saying it out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am saying this because the night before last I went to a Jazz concert of my brother's (I know, another one) and bumped into some of the kids I graduated with. One of them was Havalyn, who I have such a long, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;long &lt;/span&gt;history with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess the lie gets easier the more you tell it because even as I stood there telling the girl who I had been so angry at years ago for lying to me, lie after lie about why I was back in town, I only felt a little bit bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that make me a bad person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is one lie bigger and worse than another? Because if thats true, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;her lie totally trumps mine&lt;/span&gt; and maybe that means I'm allowed to feel okay about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-6985304791439264971?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/6985304791439264971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=6985304791439264971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/6985304791439264971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/6985304791439264971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/11/beetlebum.html' title='Beetlebum'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-7521128606270142593</id><published>2007-11-13T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T17:26:43.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grey</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if letting my parents convince me to come back here was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HUGE&lt;/span&gt; mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days like today make me realize that it probably was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate my father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-7521128606270142593?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/7521128606270142593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=7521128606270142593' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7521128606270142593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7521128606270142593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/11/grey.html' title='Grey'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-4748985776371081387</id><published>2007-10-26T14:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T17:02:13.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monster Hospital</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.peta.org/mc/ads/sophie_ellis_bextor_fur_coat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.peta.org/mc/ads/sophie_ellis_bextor_fur_coat.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally got this months copy of Elle Magazine, which was, until this issue, my favourite fashion mag. Great articles, great featured celebs, good interviews and, obviously, amazing fashion. But one thing that completely overrode all of these positive aspects  in this month's issue was the continual and unabated manner in which the editors shoved fur down the readers' throats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd say at least fifty percent of the sponsors this month featured fur in their ads. Outrageously  enough, I counted at least &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;31 pages of fur&lt;/span&gt; (including a whole fashion shoot dedicated to the nasty stuff) plus a Chanel bag made of alligator skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whats that all about??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt instantly guilty for buying it in the first place and unsuspectingly and indirectly supporting the fur trade and by default animal cruelty. And so to make myself feel slightly less guilty and less angry I decided to write a stern e-mail to the magazine and report them to &lt;a href="http://www.peta.org"&gt;PETA&lt;/a&gt;. And obviously, I can never buy the magazine ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, they may never read the e-mail, or care, but at least I'll feel a little bit better for having done something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seriously guys, we are neither primitive cavemen nor Inuits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't need animals to make clothes with anymore and I think its pretty fucking pathetic that vanity can cost lives and fashion could kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stop the madness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fight the fur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We have polyester now, kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-4748985776371081387?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/4748985776371081387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=4748985776371081387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/4748985776371081387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/4748985776371081387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/monster-hospital.html' title='Monster Hospital'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-8658413194949004159</id><published>2007-10-25T09:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T09:22:24.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Silent Sigh</title><content type='html'>I wish my life were more exciting right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I shouldn't wish for that, because every time I have wished for excitement before it has always come in a bad form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dad shouts a hell of a lot.&lt;/span&gt; And he rotates between me, my brother and my mum, so we all get a piece of the action. He is the king of mood swings. I guess that keeps things interesting, even if its in a negative way that could lead to deafness and/or premature stress-related death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fuck it. I sure wish we could shout back though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my horoscope says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pisces: Play by the rules this time, even if it'd be easier to take shortcuts. You can't risk getting in trouble now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Not that I believe in all that shit, but gets you wondering, doesn't it? Especially when the afore mentioned father is so loosely hinged that it doesn't take very much to get yourself in trouble with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boo hoo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-8658413194949004159?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/8658413194949004159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=8658413194949004159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8658413194949004159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8658413194949004159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/silent-sigh.html' title='Silent Sigh'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-8313303270978096685</id><published>2007-10-23T12:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T12:52:55.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Will Tear Us Apart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gapingvoid.com/0710samelevel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.gapingvoid.com/0710samelevel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-8313303270978096685?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/8313303270978096685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=8313303270978096685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8313303270978096685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8313303270978096685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/love-will-tear-us-apart.html' title='Love Will Tear Us Apart'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-5100203588573765886</id><published>2007-10-22T12:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T13:38:55.044-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Misery Business</title><content type='html'>'Scuse the unannounced hiatus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not that I was swamped with work or busy doing "important things". I suppose I just couldn't be bothered. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And thats the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dog sitting for a time, which made me a bit of extra dosh, which was pretty much immediately spent during a trip to the mall with mum. Worth every penny and every morning that lame old Italian whippet woke me up entirely too early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love shopping when you aren't looking for anything in particular. Its therapeutic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Tristan and Emily at The Bees Knees on Friday night. We sat outside and talked about music and what we were up to these days. It was actually really nice. Tristan and Emily were being all "cute and coupley" but I didn't find it annoying like I do with some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to be calling Lilly this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget.&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been so long since I last heard her voice I'm starting to forget what it sounds like. And that is saying a lot since she is from Reigate and has one of the strongest accents I have ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, thank God I am a Manc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I thought I saw Evilfatbitch Marchel in the library today. Oh, Goddy, God, God, please let it not have been her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is the last person on earth I want to know that I'm back in town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-5100203588573765886?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/5100203588573765886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=5100203588573765886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/5100203588573765886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/5100203588573765886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/misery-business.html' title='Misery Business'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-7417160803458985330</id><published>2007-10-06T15:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T15:17:11.339-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Antidote</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JIG7rZYnesM/Rkj8A-_9pqI/AAAAAAAAAMY/CLrSvmtU9PY/s400/sample.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JIG7rZYnesM/Rkj8A-_9pqI/AAAAAAAAAMY/CLrSvmtU9PY/s400/sample.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smalljumpers.com/"&gt;Brilliant.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-7417160803458985330?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/7417160803458985330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=7417160803458985330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7417160803458985330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7417160803458985330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/antidote.html' title='Antidote'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JIG7rZYnesM/Rkj8A-_9pqI/AAAAAAAAAMY/CLrSvmtU9PY/s72-c/sample.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-7157501428115497237</id><published>2007-10-06T09:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T15:28:49.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Method Acting</title><content type='html'>So last night, after more than a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;year&lt;/span&gt; away, I finally went back to my old high school to watch my little brother play sax in one of my school's many showcases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was absolutely terrified of bumping into people I really didn't want to have to see, and worried that too many questions would result in arousing suspicion as to the real reason I'm back in town. Part of me really didn't want to go, because I didn't really want to have to plaster on a fake smile and look of interest for people I don't miss or care about. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not to be a bitch, but this is how I roll.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived early, and I instantly wished I had a paper bag over my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I managed to get through the night only having seen a few people that I didn't mind seeing at all. The old librarian, my ballet teacher, Jade's ex Marian (who I knew way before Jade corrupted her) and adorable little Teddy, who really isn't so little anymore (I would guess he is probably about 6' 2" now).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering the fact that I spent the entire journey there muttering, "Shit...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fuck&lt;/span&gt;...bastard...." under my breath like some sort of tourettes' driven mantra, it was actually a pretty alright night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-7157501428115497237?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/7157501428115497237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=7157501428115497237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7157501428115497237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/7157501428115497237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/method-acting.html' title='Method Acting'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-6087564158210723886</id><published>2007-10-04T21:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T21:56:25.084-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Start</title><content type='html'>Everything is boring and stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-6087564158210723886?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/6087564158210723886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=6087564158210723886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/6087564158210723886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/6087564158210723886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-start.html' title='A Good Start'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-8532801711596457898</id><published>2007-10-01T18:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T18:41:00.144-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bizarre Love Triangle</title><content type='html'>Five months ago I was on the tube coming back to East London from Wimbledon after one of the shittiest days of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Head rested against the window, Inspiral Carpets' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She Comes in the Fall&lt;/span&gt; rattling around in my ears, I looked down to see that some genius had scratched "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BRUNO IS A CUNT&lt;/span&gt;" into the metal window frame. And I was suddenly so glad to back in the UK. Okay, so it wasn't &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Manchester&lt;/span&gt;, not even close, but it sort of felt like I was half way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny what gets you through a bad day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-8532801711596457898?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/8532801711596457898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=8532801711596457898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8532801711596457898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/8532801711596457898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/bizarre-love-triangle.html' title='Bizarre Love Triangle'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-1176451315495358733</id><published>2007-10-01T13:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T13:41:43.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mating Game</title><content type='html'>I miss the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could call them everyday, I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two of them, Lilly and Victoria, are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Seriously. We've been through so much this year, so many external problems and even problems within the group and we've survived. And that says alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is, will we survive this year? With me so far away from everything, and Lilly and Vic living in two slightly seperate worlds?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-1176451315495358733?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/1176451315495358733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=1176451315495358733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1176451315495358733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/1176451315495358733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/10/mating-game.html' title='The Mating Game'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-9004247480731772841</id><published>2007-09-29T15:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T15:51:12.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence Teaches You How To Sing</title><content type='html'>I'm an absolute fucking idiot.&lt;br /&gt;Why do I never learn?&lt;br /&gt;Ever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I made yet another school girl error and suddenly remembered exactly why facebook stalking is,&lt;br /&gt;a) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;b) A very, very bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I only have myself to blame, but seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seriously.&lt;/span&gt; Did I really deserve to see an ex-love interest (David) engaged in a passionate looking kiss, just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;weeks&lt;/span&gt; after being engaged in one such kiss with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;Fucking, fucking fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't even whine to BFF Victoria about it because she will be just as disappointed with me as I am. And she'll probably say that I am clearly not over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she'll say that he is not even that great looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; be slightly upset by the actions of someone I don't care about. There is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; wrong with that. Its &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;healthy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-9004247480731772841?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/9004247480731772841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=9004247480731772841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/9004247480731772841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/9004247480731772841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/09/silence-teaches-you-how-to-sing.html' title='Silence Teaches You How To Sing'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730999887979453270.post-2086396943763620638</id><published>2007-09-28T18:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T15:39:14.027-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Day</title><content type='html'>When did we start letting other people decide how happy we are? Like, for example, letting the opposite sex and their actions decide exactly how we view the rest of the world. Whether you are a pessimist or an optimist. Whether you are lonely, or just alone. Whether you are happy or sad. And that can't be right. Can it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, when did things get so complicated?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, I had everything planned out. I wasn't going to get bogged down with children or a husband, I was going to be a career woman with a one bedroom flat in the city, more money than I knew what to do with and one of those maps with pins in it that joyfully proclaimed how many places in the world I had visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then hormones kicked in and ruined everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been broody since I was twelve. While I always swore I would never be the girl in movies and TV shows that can't speak and goes red in the face whenever her love interest passes by, I am just a little more than the epitome of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I hate men and am considering investing in a vibrator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for that I blame:&lt;br /&gt;Dad,&lt;br /&gt;Paddy,&lt;br /&gt;Jade,&lt;br /&gt;David,&lt;br /&gt;Phil,&lt;br /&gt;Nathan,&lt;br /&gt;John,&lt;br /&gt;maybe even Michael.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I want from this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its a way of reminding myself to learn from past mistakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730999887979453270-2086396943763620638?l=redthunderstruck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/feeds/2086396943763620638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730999887979453270&amp;postID=2086396943763620638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/2086396943763620638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730999887979453270/posts/default/2086396943763620638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redthunderstruck.blogspot.com/2007/09/new-day.html' title='New Day'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12079994816388119249</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/blog/hellobeautiful/uploaded_images/Warhol_Marilyn_hs-778580.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
