<?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-6248721</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:38:18.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i Wish i Could Be On Time!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>225</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-117496671300499557</id><published>2007-03-27T00:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T00:38:33.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i am supposed to be turning in a poem via online for poetry workshop on tuhrsday. i look back at my "work" and suddenly want to vomit. i can't do this.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/117496671300499557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/117496671300499557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-am-supposed-to-be-turning-in-poem.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-117121274433385320</id><published>2007-02-11T11:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T11:52:24.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>London the crazypoet now has AIM!!  :)IM me @ crazypoet80Peace!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/117121274433385320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/117121274433385320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2007/02/london-crazypoet-now-has-aim-im-me.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-116672363920417162</id><published>2006-12-21T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T12:53:59.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am so happy because...this hellish semester is over &amp;I got 2 A's &amp;a B+ &amp;a freaking C in formal logic!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116672363920417162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116672363920417162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-so-happy-because.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-116570567372404625</id><published>2006-12-09T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T18:07:53.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This semester I have been taking a creative writing story workshop and I wanted to share my two stories--enjoy!                  The Yin-Yang TwinsClaire met Motley at a bar in downtown Chicago.  As did Stanley.  And Barbara.  And Sue.  And Bradley.  And if you got all these folks together into a group, they’d tell you the same tale.  Motley, who was once a double, now stands merged, rather than </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116570567372404625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116570567372404625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-semester-i-have-been-taking.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-116413695492364620</id><published>2006-11-21T09:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T14:23:56.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy {almost} Thanksgiving!Thanksgiving is just two days away. I can't believe how fast this year has gone by. This semester has been incredibly busy for me and I've had a million things go wrong. Besides the whole laptop business (see last post), my car died. Well, the engine is going to die. So I got another one and that one died. Now I'm in another one and so far so good. (Knock on wood...) </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116413695492364620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/116413695492364620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-almost-thanksgiving-thanksgiving.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-115803568927585779</id><published>2006-09-12T00:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T00:34:49.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sorry I Ran Away...It has been forever since I last posted, and I didn’t realize this until tonight when I checked my blog for the first time in forever...I am alive and well, my friends, alive and well! The summer went by way too fast, but I got to go to Washington, DC (for work) and to Michigan (with family)--both trips were splendid, indeed. Now I have started the semester up again, and things</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115803568927585779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115803568927585779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/09/sorry-i-ran-away.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-115178219565937800</id><published>2006-07-01T15:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T15:29:55.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Last night, 20/20 dealt with the creative perspective of “The State of the Union.”  Notice how we are missing a word in this phrase.  That is where the creativity comes forth—typically, when we hear “The State of the Union” we expect ‘Address’ to follow, along with our moronic president, George Bush, to stand behind some podium slurring and mispronouncing words; but no, last night, 20/20 dealt </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115178219565937800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115178219565937800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/07/last-night-2020-dealt-with-creative.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-115178156082530080</id><published>2006-06-29T00:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T15:19:20.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Manhood v. WomanhoodIn so many of the current magazines we read today, the term “manhood” has been replaced by the out-of-date, circa 80’s and 90’s, member, monkey, penis, etc.  And I ask myself, “Self, what is this thing they call manhood? Better yet, where is my womanhood?”  If a man can grab his manhood, can I grab my womanhood?  The first thing I must consider at this point is exactly where </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115178156082530080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/115178156082530080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/06/manhood-v.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-114866238849993952</id><published>2006-05-26T12:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T12:53:08.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>indeed i am I've been gone. Crazy busy. Busy going crazy. I finished up last semester and have moved on to summer classes and work. More work. Always work. After I finish these next four weeks, I will be free for the rest of the summer. I can't wait for a break. Its been like three years straight with no, or very little breaks. Let's see...what's going on with me...I have approximately one year </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114866238849993952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114866238849993952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/05/indeed-i-am-ive-been-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-114504337059753204</id><published>2006-04-14T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T15:36:10.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114504337059753204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114504337059753204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/04/haloscan-commenting-and-trackback-have.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-114262549264483618</id><published>2006-03-17T14:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T15:00:54.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Mouse on the Barroom Floor Some Guinness was spilled on the barroom floorwhen the pub was shut for the night.Out of his hole crept a wee brown mouseand stood in the pale moonlight.He lapped up the frothy brew from the floor,then back on his haunches he sat.And all night long you could hear him roar,'Bring on the goddam cat!' Taken from: http://islandireland.com/Pages/folk/sets/</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114262549264483618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114262549264483618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/03/mouse-on-barroom-floor-some-guinness.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-114110554829770848</id><published>2006-02-28T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T00:45:48.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I feel like I should write something being that the month will be over tomorrow. I am miserable in my classes. They all suck. Big time.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114110554829770848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/114110554829770848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-feel-like-i-should-write-something.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113778672280713005</id><published>2006-01-20T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T14:52:02.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>To my surprise, things are fairly normal in my life, currently. Classes are back in session, and for the most part, they are bearable. Wolfe and I are still doing well, even though we don’t see each other as much as I’d like to. With school and work (for both of us), it is difficult to find a good time to spend together. We are both so incredibly busy. In fact, I am writing this at work as I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113778672280713005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113778672280713005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/01/to-my-surprise-things-are-fairly.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113614005693592161</id><published>2006-01-01T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T13:27:36.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Keeping up with old traditions--an Irish saying for the New Year:Ná glac pioc comhairle gan comhairle ban. Never take advice without a woman's guidance.taken from: http://www.irish-sayings.com/Happy 2006!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113614005693592161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113614005693592161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2006/01/keeping-up-with-old-traditions-irish.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113553358176055640</id><published>2005-12-25T12:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T12:59:41.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113553358176055640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113553358176055640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/12/merry-christmas-everyone.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113535914912573555</id><published>2005-12-23T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T12:33:33.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is like way new, but it just came to me so I thought I'd share...Do motherless children ever give birthWrinkled little Eskimos Spitting blood out of the wombPurple-lipped open wide sucking silver dollar nipplesI was once born a democratMotherDid you know meProtesting for equal sized gunsDid I come out blue when I was inside of youWere we stuck like glueYou knewI was never the answer for </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113535914912573555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113535914912573555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/12/this-is-like-way-new-but-it-just-came.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113382707858383861</id><published>2005-12-05T18:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T18:57:58.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>its the end of the semester...aahhh!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113382707858383861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113382707858383861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/12/its-end-of-semester.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113177861103581022</id><published>2005-11-12T01:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T01:56:51.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You go, girl!Australian Simone Young has broken one of the world's last bastions of male domination by being named the first woman to conduct the prestigious Vienna Philharmonic orchestra.Sydney born Young will take the baton this Sunday, becoming the first female to conduct the 156-year-old orchestra.The Vienna Philharmonic was ordered to accept women in 1997 if it wanted to continue getting </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113177861103581022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113177861103581022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-go-girl-australian-simone-young.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113107853881702134</id><published>2005-11-03T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T23:28:58.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So when you search 'fuck for a buck' on google, I'm number 8. Nice. Real fucking nice.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113107853881702134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113107853881702134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/11/so-when-you-search-fuck-for-buck-on.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-113074312048913184</id><published>2005-10-31T02:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T02:18:40.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I had a great weekend. And even though my niece, Gabrielle, and my nephew, Owen, are two of the cutest kids alive, I'm still sticking to my "no kids" policy. I spent the weekend with my sister, Tiffany, and her two kids and my brother-in-law, Mike. We went to the pumpkin farm and my niece and I got lost in a corn maze for an hour, but it was a blast! Then we went to the apple orchard and ran a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113074312048913184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/113074312048913184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-had-great-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112711344234248141</id><published>2005-09-19T02:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T03:04:02.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This was the single most difficult weekend I've had in a long, long time. A long time. Wolfe and I have been very distant over the past few weeks, so in conclusion, we had a long discussion (I cried the whole fucking time) but things were resolved when I realized nearly most of it was my fault because I suck at the girlfriend thing and we talked for hours and I cried some more. Now we are just </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112711344234248141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112711344234248141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/09/this-was-single-most-difficult-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112584643572947106</id><published>2005-09-04T00:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T11:08:50.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I had the most amazing time in San Diego and fell in love with the people who live there and the beaches that surround them. For the first few weeks after arriving back in dreary Ohio, I seemed to have fallen into this mild depression, yearning for the sound of the waves, but now I am beginning to reappear into reality once again as I sit at my laptop and occasionally glance down at my pile of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112584643572947106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112584643572947106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-had-most-amazing-time-in-san-diego.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112528906461736861</id><published>2005-08-28T13:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T00:17:44.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hope everyone likes the new design. I'm still working on the links and such, but I think it is at least a bit less, well I don't know...bright?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112528906461736861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112528906461736861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/08/hope-everyone-likes-new-design.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112351587060627767</id><published>2005-08-08T11:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T11:44:31.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>24 hours from now I will be on a plane on my way to San Diego!!! Wish me luck!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112351587060627767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112351587060627767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/08/24-hours-from-now-i-will-be-on-plane.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112131663427393278</id><published>2005-07-14T00:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T11:36:49.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm a Hill's Angel...are you?www.hillaryclinton.com </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112131663427393278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112131663427393278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-hills-angel.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-112024989878232043</id><published>2005-07-01T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T16:33:57.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy Birthday, Latasha!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112024989878232043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/112024989878232043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/07/happy-birthday-latasha.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111773009728341986</id><published>2005-06-02T12:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:34:57.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Wolfe &amp; I went to D.C. It was amazing! And I, the most unpatriotic person in the U.S., became America's #1 fan. I couldn't help it, I was swept away...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111773009728341986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111773009728341986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/06/wolfe-i-went-to-d.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111662392445275777</id><published>2005-05-20T17:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T17:18:44.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>George Washington – the founding father that fucked U.S.Dividing troops along rivers wild Hold ‘em tight boys never trustColonizers with a temperament mildWhite man’s eyes gleaming lustTrudging forward to the Redcoats’ smileA fight for independence justYet W.E. hold him up the xenophile And now a monument built by the pitiable nonplus  As they pray for the one man who never knew the turn of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111662392445275777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111662392445275777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/05/george-washington-founding-father-that.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111604455697767452</id><published>2005-05-14T00:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-14T00:22:36.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>hello everyone!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111604455697767452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111604455697767452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/05/hello-everyone.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111535046006004410</id><published>2005-05-05T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T23:34:20.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Spring semester is over...2 A's so far, 2 more grades to go!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111535046006004410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111535046006004410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/05/spring-semester-is-over.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111524254448484091</id><published>2005-05-04T17:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T17:41:28.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>&lt;!----&gt;I am:10%Republican.&lt;!----&gt;&lt;!----&gt;"You're a tax-and-spend liberal democrat.  People like you are the reason everyone else votes for guys like Reagan or George W."&lt;!---&gt;Are You A Republican?Taken from Doc,the WeaselEnjoy!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111524254448484091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111524254448484091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-am10republican.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111392618480749429</id><published>2005-04-19T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T11:56:24.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>it was in her eyesI sawa mirrorof anotherWomanI am not myselftodaynorwas I myselfyesterdaymyselfis not in tomorrowWomanhood displacedyet                                                                                              (my             our)femininity is definedBYthe feel of silkBYthe kiss of musicBYthe smell of hungeronly I wanted more! less!one single minute [became] the anthology of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111392618480749429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111392618480749429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/04/it-was-in-her-eyes-i-saw-mirror-of.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111380475418130820</id><published>2005-04-18T02:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T02:12:34.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It has been forever and nothing has changed. I'm almost finished with my semester; exams are only two weeks away. Wolfe and I are going on our one-year anniversary, which scares the shit out of me &amp; makes me the happiest gal in America all at the same time. I'm still struggling with Spanish and I hate it more and more as time goes on, I'd do anything to get out of the class at this point, but I'm</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111380475418130820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111380475418130820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/04/it-has-been-forever-and-nothing-has.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111086635708612677</id><published>2005-03-15T00:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T00:59:17.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Missing TeethApproximately 6 years ago, I was supposed to get my wisdom teeth pulled. Well...I freaked out and I've been avoiding it since. Now it is time for me to grow up (after all I will be turning the big 25 here shortly), and at 8:10am this Wednesday I go to the dentist where he will take something from me I'll never get back. Pray for me. Please!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111086635708612677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111086635708612677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/03/missing-teeth-approximately-6-years.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-111043651213541893</id><published>2005-03-10T01:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T01:35:12.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was just talking to Wolfe on the phone about the overload of work from my classes. He mumbled something about being in the academic world &amp; isolating. Jotting it down to include in my paper I'd been working on for hours, I contemplated it for only a few minutes because I had work to finish. Now I sit at my laptop, a completed paper, hours of reading ahead of me, and question...Why? Wolfe is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111043651213541893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/111043651213541893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-was-just-talking-to-wolfe-on-phone.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110947917588240205</id><published>2005-02-26T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T23:39:35.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Next week is midterm week. I'm not looking forward to it, in fact, I'd rather be in hell.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110947917588240205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110947917588240205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/02/next-week-is-midterm-week.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110862811646405070</id><published>2005-02-17T03:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T03:15:16.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I wish I could say these were my words, but even though they're not, it is still a great poem! Enjoy!A poem for girls...  I shave my legs, I sit down to pee. And I can justify any shopping spree. Don't go to a barber, but a beauty salon. I can get a massage without a hard-on. I can balance the checkbook, I can pump my own gas. Can talk to my friends, about the size of my a$$. My beauty's a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110862811646405070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110862811646405070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-wish-i-could-say-these-were-my-words.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110836900490050962</id><published>2005-02-14T03:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T03:16:44.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Opening Up V Daytomorrow is the day every girl in America hates unless they have a significant other. For the first time in my adult life, I will not hate this holiday. I have my Wolfe.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110836900490050962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110836900490050962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/02/opening-up-v-day-tomorrow-is-day-every.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110617977041421368</id><published>2005-01-19T18:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T19:09:30.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Savannah, Georgia...Fun in the sun!!!School started back up again on the 10th of January. My classes all seem to be manageable, despite my first day experience in my Post-Colonial British Literature class in Oxford, which I have now reviewed and have decided I can deal. Work has been laid back the past week, and I have had some time to myself (which is highly unusual), and I'm taking the chance </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110617977041421368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110617977041421368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/01/savannah-georgia.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110473199804545589</id><published>2005-01-03T01:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T00:59:58.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>365 DaysIt's funny how life can change in one year. Last year, at this very time, I was with a different boyfriend, (remember the boy-toy? - Scott?), a different hair color, a different job, and a different attitude. I've seen a lot this past year, I lost my professor Kathy Burton (RIP), got rid of the old, (Scott- among other things), and completely changed my life. I am so grateful for what I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110473199804545589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110473199804545589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2005/01/365-days-its-funny-how-life-can-change.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110452579324429760</id><published>2004-12-30T14:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T15:43:13.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm Late...AgainWell, I missed my one year anniversary! :( So...Happy One Year to Me!!! :)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110452579324429760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110452579324429760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/12/im-late.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110377593358423505</id><published>2004-12-22T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T23:25:33.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Almost...not quite...but almost...I got my grades. 3 A's and one C. I could just kick myself. Almost! Damn! Almost all A's!!!! Ok, with a GPA of 3.2 I should be happy, and I am, really. It's the best I have ever done at Miami. So, yup, I'm happy. But, not really. I'm such a fucking idiot. I should have had a better grade in Spanish (the C), I should have had a much better grade. Damn! I earned </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110377593358423505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110377593358423505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/12/almost.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110357127000885303</id><published>2004-12-20T14:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-20T14:34:30.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There is only three more days until I find out my grades, and I fear I'm going to go mad waiting...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110357127000885303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110357127000885303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/12/there-is-only-three-more-days-until-i.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110314801532358549</id><published>2004-12-15T16:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T17:00:15.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Life Isn't Always a Box of Chocolates...So Forrest Gump was wrong. Hey, it happens. It is after all, just a movie. Oh yea, I forgot, a movie. Between the months of November and March, I might as well be dead. My older sister, in her attempts to cheer me up says, "You can remember that the moon is brighter in the winter." Nice try, sis. This year with my family, my friends, and my boyfriend I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110314801532358549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110314801532358549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/12/life-isnt-always-box-of-chocolates.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110174882874684384</id><published>2004-11-29T13:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T12:20:28.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One holiday down, one holiday to go...('cause I don't count News Years)My sister really pulled off a beautiful Thanksgiving, complete with all the trimmings: stuffing, cranberry sauce, and sweet potatoes, not to mention the awesome turkey (yum, yum!). We all had a wonderful dinner. I taught my brother-in-law, my mom, my little sister, and my ten-year-old niece how to play a fast paced card game,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110174882874684384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110174882874684384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/one-holiday-down-one-holiday-to-go.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110132118416515700</id><published>2004-11-24T13:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-24T13:33:04.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You know I feel like everyone is looking for the wish bone inside of my body. They all pull one way or the other. My wish bone won't break. It's tough. I don't want fate to pick who gets the bigger half, who gets the wish, who won; I want to decide. Thanksgiving is supposed to be about family, food, and gratitude; except that I don't feel anything. I don't have a family to go to because they </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110132118416515700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110132118416515700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/you-know-i-feel-like-everyone-is.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110110080240105505</id><published>2004-11-22T00:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T00:20:02.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well another weekend has come and gone. It always goes by so fast. I've been working on my seminar paper (my first one ever) for my independent study and I officially presented my paper topic to Dr Johnson on Friday (which she approved) and now I'm working on the introduction to hand in tomorrow. Ahhh!!!! Wish me luck with this one! :s I feel much better tonight, and I think that this stomach flu</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110110080240105505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110110080240105505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/well-another-weekend-has-come-and-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110084004090748556</id><published>2004-11-18T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T23:54:00.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It seems as though I have been here before. Every year, around this time. I hate the transition from fall to winter. Once it gets cold and sticks, I'm fine, it's just the time in between. The air still breathes warmth yet the clouds gather and block the sun. I'm sick...again. I've had this stomach flu thing. No fun. I have spent the past 5 days in and out of bed, barely eating, and very achy. At </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110084004090748556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110084004090748556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/it-seems-as-though-i-have-been-here.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-110027351905212331</id><published>2004-11-12T09:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-12T10:31:59.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You know I really thought something would change after my father died, like I would wake up with a new body, but here it is, the same damn one. The one he touched and loved so very much. I'm even included in his obituary, how sweet of him to remember my sister and I. I think the thing that bothers me the most is I thought I'd know before I really knew, as if this black cloud resting in my dreams </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110027351905212331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/110027351905212331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/you-know-i-really-thought-something.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109980925920989348</id><published>2004-11-07T01:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-07T01:34:19.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Numbly Laughing...It had been the end of a hellish week with the stress of school, work, the election, and so on...I left my Spanish class with $3 in hand, got into my car and drove to the nearest gas station-- Dairy Mart. Even though I am now 24 years of age, I am still carded just about everywhere, but this was not the straw that broke the camel's back. I was about 3/4 the way out of the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109980925920989348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109980925920989348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/numbly-laughing.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109963386677658081</id><published>2004-11-05T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T00:51:06.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Stronger AmericaI wanted to wait a few days until I posted anything about the election. Unfortunately, the results I had hoped for was not the outcome; but I do believe that Kerry’s words are still in every American’s mind and heart. A Stronger America, that is what Kerry hoped for, and I think that is what he got and even though he did not win, he still achieved his goal. I believe this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109963386677658081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109963386677658081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/stronger-america-i-wanted-to-wait-few.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109940194453128567</id><published>2004-11-02T08:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T08:25:44.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Vote, vote, vote!!!!Good luck! :)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109940194453128567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109940194453128567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/11/vote-vote-vote-good-luck.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109894578176686626</id><published>2004-10-28T02:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T02:43:01.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm still working on this one...HerstoryShhhAllow me to tell you a storyOf the ones who have remained quiet for heLet me tell you a tale About all the sisters who have failedBeen pushed downDeep into the groundWhile you stomp on their wombsAnd piss on their tombsAnd you can look at honest AbeKnowing he worked dozens of babesBeaten and bruised Told they were ignorant and used</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109894578176686626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109894578176686626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/im-still-working-on-this-one.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109871328723266671</id><published>2004-10-25T09:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T10:08:07.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sadly, I have nothing too interesting to write about this time. Usually my life is filled with drama, but this weekend was blah. I stayed in on Friday night, enjoyed hanging out with my kitty cats &amp; on Saturday I caught up with my sisters and mother on the phone, then went to Wolfe's house. We played the game of LIFE and had a good time, especially since I won! :) Sunday I went to visit my gram </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109871328723266671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109871328723266671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/sadly-i-have-nothing-too-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109828212902540924</id><published>2004-10-20T10:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T10:22:09.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Land of No WomanRecently, I've be praying to god. I've been praying and thanking god for two reasons: #1 I have been thanking god I am not a man, and #2 I have been thanking god I am not a full-fledged lesbian. Why? Because women are bitches!!! This can be a very good thing, being a bitch, but in some cases, being a bitch is a very, very bad thing. Take my friend, Angie, for example. Last </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109828212902540924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109828212902540924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/land-of-no-woman-recently-ive-be.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109812706251729436</id><published>2004-10-18T13:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T15:17:42.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dear Hoot,When I was in the 6th grade, my class went to Camp Kern. It was probably one of the best things about St. Gertrude Catholic Grade School. For three days, we were kids. We got muddy, ate food without guilt, and only prayed when necessary. It was complete bliss. One activity that the camp counselors had us kids do was called "Dear Hoot."  Dear Hoot, was when we could ask this stuffed owl</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109812706251729436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109812706251729436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/dear-hoot-when-i-was-in-6th-grade-my.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109746942752506832</id><published>2004-10-11T01:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-11T01:07:40.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>my vagina is closed her hours of a-a-o-per-at-ionare from 9 am to 5 pm sharpit don’t matter if there was a wreckcause after 5 pmmy vagina is closedso don’t come strollin on inthinking you will get whatchu wantcause my vagina is not in business after fivemy vagina does not work during holidaysincluding Presidents day, Columbus day and all those otherscause if the men get a day off</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109746942752506832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109746942752506832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/my-vagina-is-closed-her-hours-of-a-o.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109665417399169431</id><published>2004-10-01T14:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-01T14:09:33.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just finish Mrs. Dalloway, and I've got something to say. Never let one day slip by without saying you love your sisters. So, right now I'm going to take the time to tell all my sisters I love them. You are my friends, my family, my life's circle. Why is our world afraid of touch? Why do I get labeled because I hug another female? What is wrong with showing affection? As women, we have a very </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109665417399169431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109665417399169431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-just-finish-mrs.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109579826494626892</id><published>2004-09-21T16:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T16:24:24.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have been sick and dying. It's funny how one minute you are feeling wonderful, and then the next BAM! you feel like shit. That is how it happened to me. Wolfe and I were eating out on Saturday and all of a sudden, this feverish black cloud stopped over me. And that was it, I've been sick ever since. My gram and mother say I get sick all the time because I don't eat well. I say I just have bad </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109579826494626892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109579826494626892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-have-been-sick-and-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109522191910516529</id><published>2004-09-14T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T00:18:39.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Laura the famous shrink has this saying, "I've see this movie before." When she says this to me, it is usually in regards to my unstable relationships with Lexapro, but today as I stood talking with one Miami professor, Laura's voice echoed in my head. "I've seen THIS movie before." I was not talking to the professor about Lexapro, my dosage, or my unstable relationship with the little white pill</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109522191910516529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109522191910516529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/09/laura-famous-shrink-has-this-saying.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109457685168818317</id><published>2004-09-07T13:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-07T13:07:31.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Life seems to be so consistent lately. Everyday, despite all the messes I continue to make, seems exactly the same as the day before. I wonder if anything will ever change for me. I wonder if school is a waste, even though I am doing really well, I still picture myself serving burgers. My dreams, fluffy and tasteful, disappear with each glimpse of the real world where there are bills to pay, no </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109457685168818317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109457685168818317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/09/life-seems-to-be-so-consistent-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109384312342383785</id><published>2004-08-30T01:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T01:18:43.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hello All!!!Yes, yes, slap me on the wrist, its been way too long! Well, life has been life. Up and down, down and back up again. My computer has been crazy! Actually she's been sick! :( But, I think she is doing better. School is back in session for Miami, so I've been crazy doing school things again. I did, however, get a 4.0 this summer! Go me! It was only two literature classes, but I assure</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109384312342383785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109384312342383785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/08/hello-all-yes-yes-slap-me-on-wrist-its.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109081979113797921</id><published>2004-07-26T01:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-26T01:29:51.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I’m here in the cornerWatching as they strap you downFor safety because you can’t keep from cuttingCutting all the timeMaking beautiful pictures on your armsSaving the fine-tuning for laterI’m here in the cornerWhen the nurse is talking to your parents That don’t give a damn whether you live or dieJust don’t let it happen on my time is the family mottoAs your mom paints her yellowed </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109081979113797921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109081979113797921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/im-here-in-corner-watching-as-they.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109073461184444826</id><published>2004-07-25T01:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-25T01:50:11.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Drop the anchor …I’m back at Bob’sMy friend April was accepted to the nursing program at Miami University, so we decided to celebrate. (I picked the restaurant of course). So there we are sitting at Bahama Breeze, (a very popular restaurant close to where I live), and I encountered one of the most difficult tests of my life. Sure, it sounds easy to some, but for me it was very difficult to not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109073461184444826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109073461184444826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/drop-anchor-im-back-at-bobs-my-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109029596165326681</id><published>2004-07-19T23:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T23:59:21.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Randomness Explored… By Request III Parts Part I "It went like this… "I took Wolfe to the airport and it reminded me of all the times I took my ex Ben to that very same terminal. It sucks when they go away. I knew he’d be back, but that wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want him to leave in the first place. On my way home, I decided I should treat myself. Now let me explain: a poor gal’s </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029596165326681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029596165326681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/randomness-explored-by-request-iii.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109029585362645720</id><published>2004-07-19T23:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T23:57:33.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Part II "The First Name Game"Over two months ago, one of my professors and I got into what some people would call a little “spat.” No big deal, she just wouldn’t talk to me and I obsessed over it and cried for weeks. We had planned on doing this independent study together, but last time I heard that was so high up in the air, I was sure it wasn’t going to happen. I was prepared for the worst, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029585362645720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029585362645720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/part-ii-first-name-game-over-two.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-109029564148778021</id><published>2004-07-19T23:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T23:54:01.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Part III “I hate these fucking statutes!!!” So there are these new statutes all around Hamilton that look like real people doing real people things: tying their shoes, playing with their children, or reading a book. They really piss me off. I will be crusin’ by in my car blasting “The White Stripes” and look over and see one of these fucking statutes, think it is a real person and smile because</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029564148778021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/109029564148778021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/part-iii-i-hate-these-fucking-statutes.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108982440674360988</id><published>2004-07-14T12:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T13:00:06.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>this is who i amexcept it or notwelcome to my world a vacant lotits time i released my weakest spotits swollen &amp; scaredits my tightest tied knotday in &amp; day out we strive to obtain true happiness. jealousy.guilt.hatred.regrets.hypocrisy.criticism.judgements flood our brains and our hearts causing us to deny sympathy.passion.love.honesty.everything that is good.but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108982440674360988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108982440674360988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/this-is-who-i-am-except-it-or-not.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108943782955971417</id><published>2004-07-10T01:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-10T01:37:09.560-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i'll let the words surround my head as i fall into the oblivion of...                       Forbidden LiesTwisted truthsPoker faceInnocent youthLosing faithStack the deckLoad the potStretch your neckThe wire's hotSmokey fablesKnotted factsTurn the tablesStab your backBottom of heartsPits of hellIt becomes an artOf i'll never tell   By London's lil' sisMs. Natalie Ann</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108943782955971417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108943782955971417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/ill-let-words-surround-my-head-as-i.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108896829778285358</id><published>2004-07-04T15:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T15:11:37.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hey...Happy 4th!!!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108896829778285358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108896829778285358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/07/hey.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108848617245518069</id><published>2004-06-29T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-29T01:16:12.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I decided it was about time to dye my hair when my newest gal-pal Jillian commented to me that she "never knew I had blonde hair and that she had always imagined me with dark hair." I was pleased with this for the following reasons: I'm glad that someone could imagine me with only dark hair because that was the whole idea, to change. Also, I knew it was time for me to color my hair again, but I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108848617245518069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108848617245518069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-decided-it-was-about-time-to-dye-my.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108840855510642872</id><published>2004-06-28T03:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T03:42:35.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Louisville Rolls! So if a person would say that something rocks, then this means that something is awesome, right? But, if a person would say something rolls, then that something is bad, right? Hmmm… I thought I’d just try it on for size, I’m not sure it fits. I don’t like it. Ok, let me begin again, Louisville sucks! Bad! This is why: #1 It’s the most boring drive ever#2 There is nothing to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108840855510642872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108840855510642872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/louisville-rolls-so-if-person-would.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108819889559813089</id><published>2004-06-24T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T17:28:15.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I hate today and I'd like to exchange for another one...I feel so violated. Today, as Wolf and I strolled along the river, (well truthfully I was rollerblading and he was speed walking), some ass broke into the car and stole my precious Vera Bradley purse! I was so fucking pissed! We call the police, and searched along the banks of the river for hours. All I have found in a few scrapes and that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108819889559813089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108819889559813089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-hate-today-and-id-like-to-exchange.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108797226787521174</id><published>2004-06-23T02:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T02:31:07.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In memory of Dr. Kathy BurtonI have been trying to remember exactly what I was doing on Sunday morning. I know that at approximately 6am I eyed my alarm clock, only later at 10am to shut it off. I remember thinking that I needed to get up to re-read “Our Town” for my literature class, but sleep sounded better. The next day at 9am I received the call. I remember hearing the phone ring and I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108797226787521174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108797226787521174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/in-memory-of-dr.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108753436859218110</id><published>2004-06-18T00:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-18T00:52:48.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>After spending the day with my one year old nephew, ten year old niece and thirty year old sister, I think I smoked almost a whole pack of cigarettes on the hour and a half drive home. It's not that I don't love them, I do; but I was really needing a smoke! My sister is an incredible woman. She is really good with her kids. There is no way in hell I could handle my nephew. He is the most active </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108753436859218110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108753436859218110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/after-spending-day-with-my-one-year.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108736802857957348</id><published>2004-06-16T02:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-16T02:40:28.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Kitty-kittyWhen I was a little girl, one of the best moments in my childhood involved my big sissy. Tiffany had found this cat for me; a long haired, all white, two-year-old cat. I named her Duchess. I don’t know if that was her original name, or if I changed it in my selfishness, (probably the second choice knowing me)! Anyway, so I truly believed that my cat, Duchess, had magical, religious </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108736802857957348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108736802857957348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/kitty-kitty-when-i-was-little-girl-one.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108718904699656191</id><published>2004-06-14T00:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T00:57:26.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hello everybody! How is ya?! I is fine! Ok, enough of that hillbilly bullshit...how is everyone doing these days? This weekend was pretty good for me. I haven't done much writing, but I did do a bit of research for a few poem ideas I have; (more on that later). Well, I saw my darling lil' Latasha on Saturday. She is looking great, and rolling in the dough with Philip Morris. (I hate her!) We just</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108718904699656191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108718904699656191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/hello-everybody-how-is-ya-i-is-fine-ok.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108688417603254980</id><published>2004-06-10T12:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-10T12:31:13.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>FYI! Notice the new guest map!I got this idea from the fabulous Helen! Everyone must go and do the freakin' guest map thing! You better, or else!!! Ha! PS I also added two "new to you" websites to go visit, &amp; you better go visit those as well! I'm so productive today, it scares me! Help me, someone; before I get totally responsible! No, no that would never happen!!! I have way too much time on </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108688417603254980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108688417603254980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/fyi-notice-new-guest-map-i-got-this.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108679102230829717</id><published>2004-06-09T10:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T10:23:42.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This morning was a monumental achievement for me! I actually woke up before my four alarms! Go Me! Anyway, things are going well. I started the new job yesterday, and spent last night trying to memorize the menu. Fun, fun. I swore that when I started this thing, (the blog); I was going to write on it everyday. Yup, we've seen how that has turned out. But, I do enjoy writing when I can! I am </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108679102230829717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108679102230829717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/this-morning-was-monumental.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108622832799825700</id><published>2004-06-02T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T22:05:28.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The MatronI’ve seen her eyes destroyed by fearStarving for normality Dragging worries through the stairwayUp to the nurseryWhere the babe sleeps for seven hours if she’s luckyAnd the wind blows through the mint green curtainsWhispering highs that never seem to calmNightmarish dizzy sounds float from the floorboardsSpeaking of yesterday’s pastWhere daddy would comeCome Come And </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108622832799825700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108622832799825700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/matron-ive-seen-her-eyes-destroyed-by.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108611073494631449</id><published>2004-06-01T13:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T13:25:34.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy June!!! Enjoy the sunshine!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108611073494631449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108611073494631449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/06/happy-june-enjoy-sunshine.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108594824562933632</id><published>2004-05-30T16:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-30T16:17:25.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hey, hey! What's up everyone!? I'm still with no job, low on cash, and bored out of my mind. Thank god I have summer classes to keep me busy reading!!! Well, I just wanted to give you all a shout and let you know I am thinking of all of you who read!!! (Wink, wink)...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108594824562933632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108594824562933632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/hey-hey-whats-up-everyone-im-still.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108578027427234420</id><published>2004-05-28T17:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-28T17:37:54.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today has been a decent day. Not one that I would say I'd live over and over again, but I wouldn't mind glimpsing into this day again. It all started out with me waking up to a cool breeze (that would be my handy fan from Wal-mart) and my two precious kitties in bed with me. Then I finished reading what I would consider one of the best books I have ever read in my entire life; This Side of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108578027427234420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108578027427234420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/today-has-been-decent-day.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108533401411248567</id><published>2004-05-23T13:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T13:40:14.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SongLonely hearts fallin’I speak your nameWhispers are callin’Love’s just a gameCryin’ through thunderLaughin’ through rainHearts beatin’ underBlood rushin’ veinsMusic is humin’Lights are down lowI kept your comin’Your tears fell so slowI kissed you real softI held you all nightBut you still were lostAnd out of my sightI miss your skyI wish you were hereWhy did you lie?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108533401411248567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108533401411248567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/song-lonely-hearts-fallin-i-speak-your.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108524012029162149</id><published>2004-05-22T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-22T11:35:20.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have a whole slew of shit to tell you all…It’s funny how life can change by the minute. Within 60 seconds, one aspect of your life can change so dramatically that it leaves your head spinning. This is how the past week or so has been. I began taking my classes at Oxford (main campus). I was a nervous wreck! The first day was Monday, and I was so sure after my class that I was going to drop out</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108524012029162149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108524012029162149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-have-whole-slew-of-shit-to-tell-you.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108460471490492653</id><published>2004-05-15T02:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T03:05:14.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Current Status :While my grades were not exactly what I had hoped (I got straight B's), my mom says to me, "you would have killed for those kind of grades in high school." Yea, thanks for the support, mom. I feel like shit tonight: sore throat, snot dripping, coughing, etc...So to cheer myself up I painted my nails pink. Oh, they are soooo pretty!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108460471490492653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108460471490492653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/current-status-while-my-grades-were.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108437856524329136</id><published>2004-05-12T12:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T12:16:05.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I never saw another bumblebeeA playBy: London KennedyStage: bare, five wooden stoolsNo lighting except spotlight, only black curtain for backdropChildren ages 6-10 only, three girls, two boys, wearing raggedy clothingMessy hair, only the clip-on type of microphonesChild one: (a boy)Spotlight on him, he is sitting in a stool stage rightII never saw another bumble beeNot like the ones</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108437856524329136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108437856524329136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-never-saw-another-bumblebee-play-by.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108429618720573067</id><published>2004-05-11T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T13:23:07.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My God! Blogger has been hard at work! Everything is changed! What is this dashboard shit! I detest change!!! Anyway, all is well. I am waiting for my grades. I am utterly terrified. Pray for me!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108429618720573067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108429618720573067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/my-god-blogger-has-been-hard-at-work.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108372857683783084</id><published>2004-05-04T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T23:47:21.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Every change of the seasonConsider one year attemptsCutting through thick colorless canvass skinHands stiffSplintered woodSpoon fingers churning stewStony vision skipping through waters roughSkeleton thoughts Sever sounds of contentmentWrath hollering blues piano musicPassing over fields of proteinPlaying accordion heart wavesSwallowing plasma Hourglass dress protruding with no child</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108372857683783084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108372857683783084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/every-change-of-season-consider-one.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108372881081652735</id><published>2004-05-04T16:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T23:51:55.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i down loaded yahoo! instant messenger, now you all can write me if your wish! my id is egeria30. she is the roman goddess of fountains; her name was used for a woman who instructed other women. :) cool, huh?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108372881081652735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108372881081652735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-down-loaded-yahoo-instant-messenger.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108335252452037623</id><published>2004-04-30T15:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-30T15:19:43.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>life 101i guess i should write my life 101...one of my favorite professors has cancer, and today as i sat in her office trying to hold the tears back, she tells me "that if all goes well and my heath doesn't go to shit, i'll be here in the fall." gulp...fucking gulp...why is it that all of the good people are the ones that suffer? i guess that is how the world works. last night at work, my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108335252452037623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108335252452037623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/life-101-i-guess-i-should-write-my.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108318313038333638</id><published>2004-04-28T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T16:16:26.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>it has been one of those days. you know the kind, the kind where you realize everything around you is about to change. the faces, the places, even the food. i don't like change. it scares me to death. it takes me so long to get used to something, and then it all changes. and it's never slowly, this change business, in the academic world, it is all at once. one minute you are sitting in geology, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108318313038333638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108318313038333638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/it-has-been-one-of-those-days.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108278755378616961</id><published>2004-04-24T02:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-24T02:23:23.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Twenty-two hit menCowing tipping in the moonlit hoursLipstick stains on blades of grassClockwork windsAnd oranges falling into beds of yellow hay A serial rapistFrom the county jail awaiting death row for 250 yearsWhile the leaders are shouting at the toddler newspaper boy Sending money to the aliens who are fighting wars over mother’s natural fluidsThat sleep in the red sandWhile </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108278755378616961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108278755378616961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/twenty-two-hit-men-cowing-tipping-in.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108274303487067061</id><published>2004-04-23T13:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T14:01:23.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>well it looks like this blog thing is turning out to be a weekend job. life on the home front is less than entertaining. the spring semester is wrapping up to an end (thank you god) &amp; i have had one project and paper due right after another. next week i have a huge paper due for my brit. lit class that i have been researching on for weeks. but i am very excited about it. (yes, i'm a geek). after </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108274303487067061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108274303487067061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/well-it-looks-like-this-blog-thing-is.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108216198293596694</id><published>2004-04-16T20:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T20:37:02.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is what I’ve learnedI am a woman with breasts and a full mindI am a child with a fragile heart and wild eyesI am a human White black redMy body is untamed like a cotton sheet hanging on a clotheslineI am a CatholicI was a CatholicI’m not sure who Jesus isI am a student with blisters of pride on my hands from my pen and weary eyes from reading and turning page after pageI am a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108216198293596694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108216198293596694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/this-is-what-ive-learned-i-am-woman.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108198625659639186</id><published>2004-04-14T19:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-14T19:48:13.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hey...I'm still here, barely breathing, but alive. I have been in bed for the past couple of days with this flu/virus thing (ugh). Yesterday was the first day I was even able to sit up without the room spinning wildly, but I still had a horrible headache. It sucks, bad! :( Everyone throw a pity party for me, ok?? :) I like violins, and wine...Lots of it. Let me know how it goes! </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108198625659639186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108198625659639186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/hey.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108156522389413203</id><published>2004-04-09T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-09T22:50:53.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>have you ever wanted something so bad, you thought you'd just die if it didn't happen? tonight i was at work, and after gulping three pain killers down my throat (no i am not a drug addict--i had a head ache "this big") i put on a phony smile and greeted the two tables that were in my section. one was a lousily couple that stiffed me, thanks by the way assholes, but the other was a group of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108156522389413203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108156522389413203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/have-you-ever-wanted-something-so-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108154309976709113</id><published>2004-04-09T16:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-09T16:42:09.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I haven’t written as prose lately, so here goes. I was taking a lovely mid-afternoon nap when Robbie, the neighbor’s boy who visits on the 2nd and 4th weekend of the month (thank god for little things) woke me up bouncing his basketball; while Rick-who is not by the way-the baby’s daddy chased after him, a cigarette hanging off his lips and his beer belly mutt slowly trudging along behind him, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108154309976709113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108154309976709113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-havent-written-as-prose-lately-so.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108152957978483454</id><published>2004-04-09T12:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-09T12:56:48.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What if I told you I loved youWould you still look at me the sameWhat if I told you I needed youWould you still call on meLess, more…What if I told you I dream about youWould you still let me into your lifeWhat if I told you my deepest thoughtsWould you still tell me yoursWhat if I told you I could give you the worldWould you still believe in meBut what if I told you I can’t handle </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108152957978483454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108152957978483454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/what-if-i-told-you-i-loved-you-would.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6248721.post-108142883369859434</id><published>2004-04-08T08:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T08:57:41.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I shall memorize the way you feel in my arms at this very moment The way your face feels cradled in my hands and how your breath tickles my fingertips as I softly caress your lipsThe way your shoulders rise and fall with each gasp because even we know this is the only moment in time we’ll ever shareTomorrow I will go back to being me and you will go back to being you and all we will have is</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108142883369859434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6248721/posts/default/108142883369859434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iwishicouldbeontime.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-shall-memorize-way-you-feel-in-my.html' title=''/><author><name>crazypoet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08368935452280112903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
