<?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-5853627412194511064</id><updated>2011-09-29T06:24:20.603-07:00</updated><category term='new beginnings'/><title type='text'>this is fact not fiction</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-7630395901714945968</id><published>2008-04-03T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T14:12:37.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ok alyssa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;even though she is the only one to read this i will do it! so i am supposed to write six non-important habits or quirks about myself. here goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;1. i have to bring my phone with me everywhere and it is always on. for some reason i love to be connected at all times, whether it's email or aim. maybe this means i'm just lonely?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;2. at least once a week i make breakfast burritos. these consist of eggs, salsa, and sour cream wrapped in a flour tortilla. they are basically amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;3. sometimes when i am at the high schools the kids always scream, "hi ms. b!" and i don't even look at them but just scream hi back. this happens quite often. i hope they don't take it personally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;4. i'm usually the first person to contact others. i always text first or email and instant message first. i don't know why this is. sometimes it makes me feel forgotten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;5. there is always gatorade in my fridge. i must have gatorade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;6. it's a habit for me to always fall for the wrong kind of guy. if i find a good one i will be sure to hold on to him for good. until then...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;so there we have it. 6 not so important things. at least alyssa got me to update! i haven't in a couple of months. i probably will be doing it a lot more often. miss you alyssa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-7630395901714945968?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/7630395901714945968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=7630395901714945968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7630395901714945968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7630395901714945968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2008/04/ok-alyssa.html' title='ok alyssa...'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-1657348255452187381</id><published>2008-02-08T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T16:17:56.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been a couple of months.</title><content type='html'>since i wrote in you last, dear blog friend. i was just reading older posts that i had given you, and they don't even feel like something i would write. i guess time does change certain aspects of ones life. so what's new you ask? well since we last spoke i have chopped my hair short (obviously the most important change), got a tutoring job, have been substitute teaching, and i am counting down the days until i can move.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh, why you ask? well, i can't really stand being here much anymore. petaluma is clearly not the place for me. i feel stuck. i already knew that this was temporary. upward bound offered me the teaching gig again so obviously i am taking it. i miss the kids and the staff. so it will be back to san mateo. v said that she will move with me, but we will have to see about that. no matter what i am moving. i have to. so come may 31st it is bye bye ptown. i can't stand my house anymore either. so i will set everything up to move along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my anxiety is still persistent. it's actually incredibly annoying. i wish i knew someone that had this so i could feel understood. i will probably make a doctor's appointment soon. i just got approved for health insurance and of course they decided to charge me more because of my anxiety. i love the health insurance companies. pompous jerks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;since i only have a few months left here, part of me wants to meet some great new people, but the other part wants to save that for san mateo. i mean, i still have more than three months here and i really want something stellar to happen. fingers crossed that something will. it will be bittersweet leaving this place. i know that i will not return. i have done all there is to do in the greater north bay. it's really time to move on...in more than one way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-1657348255452187381?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/1657348255452187381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=1657348255452187381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1657348255452187381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1657348255452187381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-been-couple-of-months.html' title='it&apos;s been a couple of months.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4492027332318656226</id><published>2007-12-27T18:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T18:22:53.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh what a revelation.</title><content type='html'>my anxiety has been explosive lately and i think i know why. not only am i in a weird time in my life, but i realized that i am the kind of person that needs to be feeling something at all times. whether it is happiness or sadness, it needs to happen 24 hours a day,  7 days a week. when it doesn't happen i have this utter sense of urgency, that i neeeeeed to feel. and when i try to feel, and there is nothing there, on comes the anxiety. i wonder if anyone else feels this. i hope i am not alone in my struggle for feeling. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4492027332318656226?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4492027332318656226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4492027332318656226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4492027332318656226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4492027332318656226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-what-revelation.html' title='oh what a revelation.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-2389962449987462806</id><published>2007-10-15T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T22:49:27.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what in the hell?</title><content type='html'>ok so i have had the worst day ever. i have not been this upset or lonely in a really long time. and of course i come to the internet and lie to those that i should be talking to. what a sick thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm having a very dry spell with the opposite sex. i am always their friend. never really anything more. i'm really over this. all i want is for someone to rely on and right now most of my friends aren't even there for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at least i have my family. sister is coming up friday and we are going to get tattooed. bye bye naked wrists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with love, always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-2389962449987462806?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/2389962449987462806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=2389962449987462806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2389962449987462806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2389962449987462806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-in-hell.html' title='what in the hell?'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-667380059110509691</id><published>2007-09-23T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T11:06:14.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i shouldn't be wasting time.</title><content type='html'>i have a ton to do and for some reason i really just wanted to post something new on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was the devil and smoked in my room while i was talking to macklin on the phone. i love febreeze. despite how trashy that is it was really relaxing. whatever though. no boys are coming in my room anytime soon so i have no one to impress. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of boys, it is sad that i really have no interests at the time. not really sad, but lonely. no one to flirt with, no prospects. the boys that are interested in me don't really do much for me. i need an older man. i have been talking to a blast from the past but that probably won't go anywhere. i think that i really would like a boyfriend soon. making out with boys really isn't doing it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;teaching is going well. i do have some things to work on. the students were really interested in getting information on religions so we are going to learn about christianity, judaism, and the muslim religion this week. i was going to do something else but they seemed really interested in learning about those that i have to teach them. i think we will also look at buddhism and confusianism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it sad that i am completely ok with staying indoors and reading all night? i think i rule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-667380059110509691?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/667380059110509691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=667380059110509691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/667380059110509691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/667380059110509691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-shouldnt-be-wasting-time.html' title='i shouldn&apos;t be wasting time.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-5349438913025821072</id><published>2007-09-08T09:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T09:24:15.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>haven't been able to update...</title><content type='html'>i've been too busy playing with my new macbook. it is absolutely amazing. i never thought i would like a laptop this much. it is basically my new boyfriend. heck yes! nevermind the fact that i owe apple my life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i have decided that i will go to the gym every other day. i need to get in shape and lose some weight. i feel like a heffer. i also need to gain some more energy and hopefully that will help. i really need to get boston on my ipod!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are there no decent men around here to go on dates with?! good grief!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-5349438913025821072?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/5349438913025821072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=5349438913025821072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5349438913025821072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5349438913025821072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/09/havent-been-able-to-update.html' title='haven&apos;t been able to update...'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-5479398385965847560</id><published>2007-09-02T12:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T12:35:59.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i needed that one.</title><content type='html'>it was a long time coming. and good grief i needed that. is it horrible that i don't feel bad? oh wow. it was amazing. ok i don't want to discuss anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-5479398385965847560?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/5479398385965847560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=5479398385965847560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5479398385965847560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5479398385965847560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-needed-that-one.html' title='i needed that one.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-470440384337141758</id><published>2007-08-25T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T13:40:47.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is the thanks i get.</title><content type='html'>so we are out last night, and this boy (yes boy, not man) tells other boys at the bar that i am a teacher. immediately they are curious. this is not the first time that this has happened. why is it that boys think teachers are so hot? and then the second thing that comes out of their mouths is, "so do the boys hit on you?" yes, just like you are right now. ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really need to meet more quality people in this area. everyone seems to be the same. i need someone unique. someone that makes me think. i love that my best friend is always around but i need more. at times i feel uneasy knowing that most of my good friends live so far. i know that i'm not an easy girl to love, on the outside. people think i am intimidating and that i believe i am better than others. i'm no one to judge. i've got my own issues and hang ups. i just want some friends is all. i'm probably asking for too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-470440384337141758?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/470440384337141758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=470440384337141758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/470440384337141758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/470440384337141758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-is-thanks-i-get.html' title='this is the thanks i get.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4997225369890550625</id><published>2007-08-21T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T10:09:57.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh good grief.</title><content type='html'>the high school starts tomorrow and i'm freaking out a little bit. i might be missing in action for the next few weeks getting everything situated and getting into my groove. i should actually get ready right now and go to the library. here we go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4997225369890550625?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4997225369890550625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4997225369890550625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4997225369890550625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4997225369890550625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/oh-good-grief.html' title='oh good grief.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-6534637048196113983</id><published>2007-08-15T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T20:22:58.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>remember the romance...</title><content type='html'>remember the danger? sometimes i love the moving units. but not when i hear them on the hills. that was weird. all of my favorite bands always end up on that damn channel. oh well. when i went into work today someone that works for res life had an internet music channel on and it was playing the arcade fire. mind you, this woman is in her early fifties. i loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really want to watch the devil and daniel johnston but i don't know who will watch it with me. it might weird some folks out. but nothing can be worse then watching naked lunch with chris. that shit was intense. i don't even know what was going on in that film!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it the weekend yet? jillian will be back in town and i want to take her out to petaluma. i really just want to meet more folks that aren't flaky and have a good time. i have a feeling my best friend will get a boyfriend soon and seeing as how i don't really want one of those i'm going to be alone for awhile. le sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-6534637048196113983?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/6534637048196113983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=6534637048196113983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6534637048196113983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6534637048196113983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/remember-romance.html' title='remember the romance...'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-849432173890560866</id><published>2007-08-11T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T11:42:10.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so i'm back.</title><content type='html'>i've been hanging out with some friends lately and i realize how much i enjoy chill people. i know that sounds like a completely broish thing to say, but i love it when my friends are down for whatever. they don't have drama and they are super relax. last night we made pizza, had dessert, drank, and watched the zodiac. i loved it. we don't need to go out and get wasted and hit on god knows what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of my friends are also hanging out with new boys and such. i know that i can date, but honestly i'd rather just have someone around that is also "chill." i don't think that i want a serious relationship right now. if i did, i would be in one. i just want to have fun and let things go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's beautiful outside right now and natalie is coming over. i'm getting off of this thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-849432173890560866?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/849432173890560866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=849432173890560866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/849432173890560866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/849432173890560866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/so-im-back.html' title='so i&apos;m back.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4725480991506134670</id><published>2007-08-05T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T21:17:22.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what a weekend.</title><content type='html'>my friend just left and this is the first time i have been alone the entire weekend. gosh i am a true cancer...always needing time for myself and to run away into my shell (bedroom). we had some adventures this weekend. it is lovely to see new faces and to hang out with friends. my friend bought me sushi tonight which was also stellar. i never let people pay for anything of mine, but i figured since he just got a big check it was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i think that i am apathetic towards the opposite sex. i have all of these men around me that i could probably date, but i seriously just don't want to. i have so much going on right now. don't get me wrong, i can be very lonely at times. but that isn't enough for me to begin dating someone. this person i know is dating this girl because he figures why not. that is a miserable excuse to be tied down to someone. the last boy that i dated was fantastic and i told people so. for someone to say, well i just figured why not, well that is what we call settling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll be hard at work this week. but hopefully will be going to sf on tuesday for free museum day. so excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4725480991506134670?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4725480991506134670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4725480991506134670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4725480991506134670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4725480991506134670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-weekend.html' title='what a weekend.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-6707075399548965591</id><published>2007-08-04T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T09:58:01.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this soul is all fired up.</title><content type='html'>so my roommate has been acting incredibly weird towards me lately. kind of distant. it's been weird. well, i just lurked his myspace and it appears that he is in a relationship. i am assuming that it is with this 18 year old that i cannot stand. gosh. now i feel like i want to throw up. i really hope that he doesn't plan on having her over here. i will probably lock myself in my room or just leave. i know that i shouldn't feel horrible about this. we just have a weird past and it is making me feel awkward inside to know that he is dating some busted ass girl. blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so i think i am going to do some major hang outs this weekend. i am pretty excited. i haven't had much social time with anyone in a long time since all i have been doing is teaching. and my friend jenn from sac just messaged me and asked if i want to go to popscene with her on the 30th. mmm i haven't been in so long but i will go with that girl! i miss her guts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;going to the school this week to get set up. totally excited for that! woooooot! fuck it if one part of my life is weird. i will make the best of things. oh yes i will! it's time to get my day started.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-6707075399548965591?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/6707075399548965591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=6707075399548965591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6707075399548965591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6707075399548965591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-soul-is-all-fired-up.html' title='this soul is all fired up.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-1298119808571344964</id><published>2007-08-02T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T09:35:54.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one more day...</title><content type='html'>and i am done with summer school. it feels kind of weird. i am happy that i will get to go back up to petaluma, but not too happy to leave the students. they need a lot of help and i am afraid that they are not getting it from their regular teachers. some of them are already gone; off to trips to mexico to see family members and such. so tomorrow we will have a small end of the summer celebration where i will be bbq'ing tons of beeeeef for the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, it is really hard when people are persistent and i have a hard time saying no. good grief. i really need to get some balls and own up to what i want and what i don't want. i am curious about a couple of guys, but that's all. no crushes and i do miss that feeling. i know that i need to focus on my work, but good grief i feel so, asexual. it's time to bust that out. wow that sounds gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright i should go get ready or something. have things to do today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-1298119808571344964?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/1298119808571344964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=1298119808571344964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1298119808571344964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1298119808571344964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-more-day.html' title='one more day...'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-2101446376317253118</id><published>2007-07-29T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T09:15:07.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>been so tired.</title><content type='html'>and i have no idea why. maybe i need a vacation. while everyone out there is going on weekend trips and week long extravaganzas, i am stuck here teaching. i love it and hate it at the same time. i won't even have a break before school starts back up since i will be preparing for the fall. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, what the hell is with music videos being so cliche?! it makes me want to throw up. honestly, do the producers of these videos think that the love they portray in their videos exists? maybe it does and i am just being cynical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i painted my nails. how feminine of me. i guess i should go, get a boyfriend, and dance around the beach with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-2101446376317253118?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/2101446376317253118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=2101446376317253118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2101446376317253118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2101446376317253118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/been-so-tired.html' title='been so tired.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-8589745825541541024</id><published>2007-07-25T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T12:59:35.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i am exhausted.</title><content type='html'>so we let our english teacher go last week and since then i have been responsible for both his classes and mine. i am teaching straight through every single day. this may not seem like a lot but believe me, it is. the schedule of a teacher is one that i would never wish upon my worst enemy. always looking for new information to cover, creating lesson plans, grading papers, etc. i seriously need to start drinking lots of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have started to work on my world history for next semester and i am stumped on how to start. US history is easy. you go over who lived in the US before the europeans. but world? wow. i don't even know. i guess it will come to me when i have finished researching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;off to teach one more other class!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-8589745825541541024?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/8589745825541541024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=8589745825541541024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8589745825541541024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8589745825541541024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-am-exhausted.html' title='i am exhausted.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-6548536734040227904</id><published>2007-07-23T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T23:09:25.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the day of my birth.</title><content type='html'>so it happened. everything that i expected. i laughed, i cried, i got way too intoxicated and am still nursing some nausea. the bbq was great. my whole family minus my little sister came and a ton of friends stopped by. we had a lot of fun. some beezies came and i wanted to throw up on their fake tans but that's whatevs. people should try to hold their liquor and not throw up in my roommates bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realized that i need to get over a few things. silly attractions being one of them. i began to cry i think out of drunken jealousy. i'm such a miserable drunk. we played with some fireworks and i loved every moment of that. i have a few amazing friends and i couldn't ask for more from them. made a few drunk dials which were entertaining and met some new people. i think we may have more get togethers like my bbq. as long as macklin doesn't throw cheese on the wall. it was definitely good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another realization is that i do so much for others, but receive so little reciprocation. i guess when you are a good person you don't really do things and expect to get something in return. but honestly, there comes a point when i would even like some acknowledgment or a thank you. i am craving a big hug right now. and maybe some snuggles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-6548536734040227904?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/6548536734040227904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=6548536734040227904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6548536734040227904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/6548536734040227904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/day-of-my-birth.html' title='the day of my birth.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-9045781911491441905</id><published>2007-07-21T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T10:10:37.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my birthday.</title><content type='html'>at the stroke of 1:11am i turned 24 last night. good grief i am old. well, not physically. but i am definitely an old soul. i didn't spend last night the way i would have liked to. had to tell someone that they were not for me and run away. that's never a good thing. but at least i hope he gets it now. can't be involved with certain activities because 1. i am not into that and 2. that is just stupid. i need a guy with a masters degree who wants to lay in bed and read at night, not go out and get wasted all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, macklin is here and we are going to run off to costco for the bbq necessities: boca, beef, buns, beer. hopefully the bbq is off the chain. i need some happy times right now! i feel like all i have been doing is teaching and i need a break. hopefully it comes today. shall update later, even though i don't think anyone but myself reads this. =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-9045781911491441905?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/9045781911491441905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=9045781911491441905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/9045781911491441905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/9045781911491441905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-birthday.html' title='my birthday.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-7965420455752782860</id><published>2007-07-19T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T18:04:20.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in love.</title><content type='html'>with coconut records. mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow is a minimum day and then we are off to the asian art museum. i love that we go on field trips. i really wish that i could do these kinds of events at public high schools. that would be really awesome. there are so many amazing places in the petaluma area that are relevant to history. my master teacher is going to try to get a trip to angel island. that would be amazing! i'm going to start working on world history stuff today. woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-7965420455752782860?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/7965420455752782860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=7965420455752782860' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7965420455752782860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7965420455752782860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/in-love.html' title='in love.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-8646532916620748601</id><published>2007-07-17T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T13:07:01.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's my heart that beats this time.</title><content type='html'>i began to cry last night. i find that in my life i get so enticed with something and completely forget that i have feelings. so, last night, i realized how alone i felt and began to cry. it's not that i even need affection or that i don't have friends. i just need something more in my life. i am always so busy with summer school and preparing for next semester that i don't even have time to breathe. does this mean i will be this busy throughout life? is this just a phase? i need to find people that don't mind if i have an incredibly busy schedule and who will make time to be with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-8646532916620748601?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/8646532916620748601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=8646532916620748601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8646532916620748601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8646532916620748601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/its-my-heart-that-beats-this-time.html' title='it&apos;s my heart that beats this time.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-1479197421519480513</id><published>2007-07-15T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T11:45:14.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>huge pet peeve.</title><content type='html'>if you plan on drinking, it is absolutely necessary to make sure you are sober enough to drive home or have a place to stay for the night. people that drive tipsy or drunk can kiss my ass. you are not only putting your life in danger, but other peoples'. so before you run to your car, open the door, turn the ignition, put your foot on the brake and speed away, think about the consequences. damn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-1479197421519480513?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/1479197421519480513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=1479197421519480513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1479197421519480513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1479197421519480513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/huge-pet-peeve.html' title='huge pet peeve.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-7676596475185807131</id><published>2007-07-13T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T10:15:12.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dear father.</title><content type='html'>i have always been the best daughter that i could possibly be to you. you have known that you have not been the best father to us three girls. it is understandable that your father was not good to you and that is why you have been horrible to us. however, you have known that it hurts us when you disregard who we are. you have made preconceived notions about us and that is not fair, especially to me, your only daughter who has gone to college and is doing something with their lives. i have asked you countless times to please be a good dad to us. this morning i have had enough. when you tell me you have better things to do than to listen to me, you have no idea how much that hurts. so, it's your time to grow up. and quickly. before you lose the affection of your daughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-7676596475185807131?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/7676596475185807131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=7676596475185807131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7676596475185807131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7676596475185807131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/dear-father.html' title='dear father.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-3860868863874541646</id><published>2007-07-11T10:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T10:56:32.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it makes me sad that one of my students started crying in the middle of class the other day. why? his mom might have cancer and i don't think she has insurance. he said that she has huge lumps on her arm and on her chest. i almost started to cry with him but knew that i had to be strong for him. it's amazing how people take their problems for granted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-3860868863874541646?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/3860868863874541646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=3860868863874541646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/3860868863874541646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/3860868863874541646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-makes-me-sad-that-one-of-my-students.html' title=''/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4524843530901289680</id><published>2007-07-09T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T11:28:42.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i love.</title><content type='html'>coming to realizations. my new hope is to get rid of one-sided relationships. i don't have time for them anymore to be honest. i have done so much for people and it is harding reciprocated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to be 24 soon and that kind of scares me. i am far ahead of those that are my age. i teach students that are a little bit younger than me, and i am realizing that i am fully capable of doing so. i hope that i have already made impacts on these students and that they are truly invested in their educations. for my birthday we are having a bbq that will hopefully be amazing. i will be stoked to see a lot of different people all come together for me. holler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright, back to looking stuff up for classes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4524843530901289680?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4524843530901289680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4524843530901289680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4524843530901289680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4524843530901289680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-love.html' title='i love.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-1201280638272327966</id><published>2007-07-06T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:45:31.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i have decided to quit smoking. it is a horrible habit and it needs to end. one of my student's saw me smoking and i felt embarrassed. i didn't want to be a bad influence. ok so that's that. the week has been hectic. maybe i need to take some time out for me! mhm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-1201280638272327966?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/1201280638272327966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=1201280638272327966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1201280638272327966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/1201280638272327966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-have-decided-to-quit-smoking.html' title=''/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-5638154792461086879</id><published>2007-06-30T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T15:42:58.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you're good at pushing me out.</title><content type='html'>the aquarium was amazing. i hadn't been to monterey since my best friends father passed away, so it was nice to have a good reason to go. my students are pretty much the best ever. i need to post some pictures of them so i have a place i can go to when i need a smile. we had a lot of fun looking at the sea otters (one of my favorites), the random fish, and the african penguins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i texted some people that i haven't spoken to in a while and it made me happy that they responded. i had thought that people hated my life, but honestly, how could you? ;0)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i'm sitting in my room in petaluma after a nice evening's rest. i needed my own bed. oh dear how i missed my room. so i am up here for a couple days to relax and work on lesson plans. these plans are taking over my life. i just want to make my classes enjoyable to everyone. vanessa is also here working on things. we realized that we have known each other for six years. good grief time has passed so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in random news, i would like to go on a date. a real one. not a bar date and back to my place. a dress up fancy dinner and going our separate ways afterwards. i would like to pretend that the social norm is not to hop into bed with someone asap. that has only ruined most relationships that i know of. i'd rather take it slow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-5638154792461086879?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/5638154792461086879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=5638154792461086879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5638154792461086879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/5638154792461086879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/youre-good-at-pushing-me-out.html' title='you&apos;re good at pushing me out.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-8562276951612733339</id><published>2007-06-28T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T16:33:22.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i had a dream.</title><content type='html'>that i had an amazing boyfriend. i knew him inside and out and we had equal love for each other. he would kiss me on the cheek to greet me and i would get sad when he left. it was a very vivid dreams. a dream where you could actually feel your heart pitter patter while asleep. if only i had that in real life. butterflies forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;teaching is going well. i've never been so exhausted in my life though. it's such a pain to make up your own curriculum. it is pretty rewarding though. the students took a survey and overall they love my African American history course the most. i hope that i can invoke some passion into them to make a different in their communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to be the back burner. i am going out to coffee with a friend tonight. zebra mochas and cigarettes all night. tomorrow we go to the monterey bay aquarium. i'm pretty excited! and then it is this weekend. super excited to sleep in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-8562276951612733339?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/8562276951612733339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=8562276951612733339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8562276951612733339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/8562276951612733339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-had-dream.html' title='i had a dream.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4394198273787036476</id><published>2007-06-26T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T17:38:51.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sing songs to disassociate you.</title><content type='html'>if it's one thing that i could change, it would be to have never dated a certain someone. i end up comparing every relationship that i have to him. it really isn't fair to the new ones that come into my life for me to constantly be nostalgic. you cannot be nostalgic forever, as much as you'd like to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that i need someone that is older than i. someone who is not dependent on others and can take care of themselves. i'd like to learn from this person and develop a lasting friendship that would turn into a relationship. le sigh. we will see when this happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that my students are going to be interested in African American history. they already seem as though they are being impacted from the information i am giving them. that makes me happy. all i want is for people to learn the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4394198273787036476?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4394198273787036476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4394198273787036476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4394198273787036476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4394198273787036476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/sing-songs-to-disassociate-you.html' title='sing songs to disassociate you.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-4145635595832101768</id><published>2007-06-25T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T19:40:53.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's the small things.</title><content type='html'>i think it is hilarious that i felt accomplished merely from creating a transparency. i'm such a bore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had my first class today and i think it went pretty well. i already have some ideas as to improve my teaching abilities. the students seemed way excited to have me as their teacher. tomorrow is debate and African American history. totally excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-4145635595832101768?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/4145635595832101768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=4145635595832101768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4145635595832101768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/4145635595832101768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/its-small-things.html' title='it&apos;s the small things.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-7533199127878400802</id><published>2007-06-23T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T19:49:20.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just woke up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i haven't slept in like this in a long time. it felt good. especially since i slept in two different beds. it's nice to be home, even if it is only for a couple of days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i saw my students yesterday. oh my gosh it was great. i love that everyone is really excited to have me back this year. today and tomorrow i am going to bust out a ton of lesson plans so i can make the students really enjoy my classes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;in other news, i think i am making a grave mistake. leading people on is not okay and i think i may be doing that. shit. i feel like i am getting old and need to settle down, yet all i am doing is wasting time with insignificant men that i probably won't be with in the long run. i am far too busy right now to be involved with anyone anyway. i think i need to say that in order for him not to like me any further. what's meant to be will be. but i don't think i am meant to be with anyone right now. my students will own my life for the next 6 weeks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ok i suppose i should hop in the shower and get a start on my day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-7533199127878400802?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/7533199127878400802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=7533199127878400802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7533199127878400802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/7533199127878400802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/just-woke-up.html' title='just woke up.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-2415744144660201838</id><published>2007-06-21T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T16:12:41.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just got off of work.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i feel like it is incredibly dorky of me to immediately go to the library after work everyday. why must i be so studious and want to know as much as i can? is it horrible that my fascination is merely with history and not with people's lives that currently surround me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;this library is incredibly small and has the must of brand new carpet. it was just built here in redwood city and since it's summer no one will be around. i get to see my students tomorrow and i plan on bringing them here a lot so they can also share their love of books with me. and if they don't love books, then i won't love them! mwahaha! just kidding. anyway, the library here has a fantastic view of the mountains on the peninsula. i sincerely wish that i could show people. maybe i will bust out the digi cam since it is always with me in my bag. it's about time i started taking more pictures! oh and i love the librarian here. he is going to give a talk to my student's on resources and he is super excited about it. i love his enthusiasm!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i called a blast from the past today. i think we are getting some pizza when i decide to leave my studies. pizza, beer, and a cigarette sound so good. it's funny that i am a dork by day, and a teenager by night. "i love the nightlife. i gotsta boogie!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ok i should get to reading. just felt like writing for a little bit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5853627412194511064-2415744144660201838?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/2415744144660201838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=2415744144660201838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2415744144660201838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2415744144660201838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/just-got-off-of-work.html' title='just got off of work.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5853627412194511064.post-2480231022161349053</id><published>2007-06-20T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T16:52:29.916-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new beginnings'/><title type='text'>here are to new beginnings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i've had quite a few experiences lately that will begin new chapters for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for one, i have moved to petaluma from good old rohnert park. i am living with three men. being the only female in the house i might find to be difficult, but so far i have no complaints. they are all extremely laid back and fun to hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i began working as a teacher in the greater bay area with students that i was involved with last year. they are part of an upward bound program which helps low income, first generation high school students go to college. i cannot wait to begin teaching. three classes are on deck for the next six weeks; African American history, US history, and a debate class. i feel like this will be an opportunity for me to work on my teaching skills. i've got my digital camera ready to grab lasting memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have decided what to abstain from in life, even though it might be difficult. see, i always get wrapped up in situations where i put more effort into friendships than the other person. no more. i need to find people that want to be in lasting relationships with me and want to grow. sick of these fake relationships that prove to be nothing in the end. sick of getting toyed around with. goodbye those of you who haven't put anything into our friendship. i'll see you when you see how important i was to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need a vacation after teaching for the next six weeks. i am thinking of visiting an old friend in southern california. sounds like a trip to disneyland might be in order too. i'll need to be refreshed since i will be student teaching at the high school in petaluma in the fall. then i will be a 24 year old with a teaching credential. so excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i think i should actually work on my curriculum. i have a ton of work to do and not a lot of time to do it. it's quite a difficult job making curriculum for three different classes and making each one unique and interesting. here goes!&lt;/span&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/5853627412194511064-2480231022161349053?l=ohitsmallory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/feeds/2480231022161349053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5853627412194511064&amp;postID=2480231022161349053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2480231022161349053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5853627412194511064/posts/default/2480231022161349053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohitsmallory.blogspot.com/2007/06/here-are-to-new-beginnings.html' title='here are to new beginnings.'/><author><name>miss b.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00200199856668774848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i271/ohhitsmallory/DSC00078.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
