<?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-4720360260515956362</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:25:48.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E Dot Pizzle - A Collection of Moments</title><subtitle type='html'>Here is a collection of moments I've been through over the past 3 years.  Falling out of love, heartbreak, learning to stand on my own two feet - only to get swept off my feet again.  There were TONS of bumps in the road to my happiness...and I wouldn't take back any moment. 

Enjoy ;)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-3292894870187697848</id><published>2009-01-04T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T20:44:50.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Moved - It's Official - Check me out at http://edotpizzle.wordpress.com/</title><content type='html'>Well...I've been speculating for about 2 months now and I figured I wouldn't step foot into the first "full" week of January without completing my transition to WORDPRESS :) Yay....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So - now you can check it me out at &lt;a href="http://edotpizzle.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://edotpizzle.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've combined all of my personal finance blog and my regular blog.....enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-3292894870187697848?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/3292894870187697848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=3292894870187697848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3292894870187697848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3292894870187697848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-moved-its-official-checke-me-out-at.html' title='I&apos;ve Moved - It&apos;s Official - Check me out at http://edotpizzle.wordpress.com/'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-7259766282976514767</id><published>2008-12-31T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T09:58:29.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello 2009!! (Oh yeah and Merry Christmas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SVuyWRIGBhI/AAAAAAAAAKI/TG0faL8pZkg/s1600-h/happy%20new%20year%20i.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286014683273627154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SVuyWRIGBhI/AAAAAAAAAKI/TG0faL8pZkg/s320/happy%2520new%2520year%2520i.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I was being honest, I'd say that this was the best year of my life. Part of me is scared to see 2008 leave. Even with the whole "recession" and major life changing events, I wouldn't change this year for the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In 2008 I learned so much, I saw so much and I gained so much. I learned that a man could love a woman so fiercely - so quickly, so SOLIDLY...that he would sacrifice EVERYTHING to let the world know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What greater gift could I ever ask for, than God giving me the love of my life?? Christmas came early and nothing else - HONESTLY, really mattered...all year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Okay - scratch that,&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Barack Obama&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(period).That's all I really need to say about that.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Falling in love was amazing. Falling in love in one day was &lt;strong&gt;delicious&lt;/strong&gt;. I wish every woman could experience that feeling. Perhaps, what makes it so special is that I was one of the few select people to experience it....hmm? I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2009, they say is the year of judgement. Things that you may have "gotten away with" during 2008, those things will come into judgement in 2009. That's a bit scary, don't you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great if you've sown goodness into people, yourself and others. Not so great if you've sucked at life and haven't done anything positive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess this is the time where I'm supposed to put up my new year's resolutions, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I really only have ONE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be the best me I can be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So okay 2009....I'm ready for you :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-7259766282976514767?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/7259766282976514767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=7259766282976514767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7259766282976514767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7259766282976514767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/12/hello-2009-oh-yeah-and-merry-christmas.html' title='Hello 2009!! (Oh yeah and Merry Christmas)'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SVuyWRIGBhI/AAAAAAAAAKI/TG0faL8pZkg/s72-c/happy%2520new%2520year%2520i.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-4126207583323629637</id><published>2008-12-19T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T10:42:40.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've gotta write!</title><content type='html'>Oh Ms Blog - how I've missed thee?! This silly Christmas shopping, wedding planning, budget crunching, mountain moving, business developing, weight losing - I have no time for my precious blog :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been inundated with people talking about using your gifts. At church, at leadership conferences, amongst friends, even training at work - and I'm like WOW! Clearly I'm hearing this for a purpose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to write out the main things I will accomplish with this gift pregnancy I'm trying to bring to full term.  With things being in the first trimester, its scary to talk about it, for fear that my dream may die early.  Nonetheless....I know what I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dust my book off the shelf and finish her.  I have 10 more chapters to write.  I read it the other day and I actually enjoyed reading my own writing....It was just this great feeling - of confirmation.  That what I had to say, mattered to someone...at least to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I must pursue Noni, so that I have an additional stream of income to field my various dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my blogging to another level - get a real name, theme, perhaps switch to Wordpress , start labeling, get someone to make me a cool website, purchase a domain name, get involved in other blogging ventures...get serious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I have got to develop my business with one of my business partners and best girlfriends from college.  We owe it to ourselves to do what we do best...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm gettting serious.  Before 2009 comes, I'm going to make some major life changes to the way I approach my gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've GOTTA write write write....right now :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-4126207583323629637?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/4126207583323629637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=4126207583323629637' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4126207583323629637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4126207583323629637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/12/ive-gotta-write.html' title='I&apos;ve gotta write!'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-8852690181915253422</id><published>2008-12-10T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:32:40.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't like the format...</title><content type='html'>Okay normally I love all things Google (I'm currently OBESSED with Google Reader @ this moment)  - but I've had a recent run-in with Wordpress and I must say, I enjoy their blog functionality WAAAAAAY more than I like Blogger.  I need to figure out some way to import my blog to Wordpress, without losing my cool comments and my loyal fanbase, lol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? I know how to import the blog (I think) but to get people forwarded to my  new page - that's where I'm slightly concerned/clueless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL - HELP!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-8852690181915253422?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/8852690181915253422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=8852690181915253422' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8852690181915253422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8852690181915253422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-dont-like-format.html' title='I don&apos;t like the format...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-1057848562068039872</id><published>2008-11-26T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T08:37:35.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving, Reviews and Randomness....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SS168LXJbUI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/R4TSxa_NuHs/s1600-h/42-19806511.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273005912981335362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SS168LXJbUI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/R4TSxa_NuHs/s320/42-19806511.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;November marks my favorite time of the year....the absolute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BESTEST&lt;/span&gt; three months of the year begin in NOVEMBER :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First you have my birthday, then Thanksgiving. Followed by all of the great Christmas parties at work, Christmas Eve (which is SO much better than Christmas day), Christmas day, then New Year's Eve and FINALLY New Year's day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And before you get too settled into work...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BAM&lt;/span&gt;! There's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MLK&lt;/span&gt; day ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so much to be Thankful for this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the midst of a recession...God has blessed to be in a better financial position than I've ever been in my entire life. He's blessed me with a great family, wonderful friends and most of all - he gave me the love of my life this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2008 brought us our first African American First Lady! Oh yeah...and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fabulousness&lt;/span&gt; that is Sasha and Malia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God blessed us with a man who's name MEANS blessing - BARACK OBAMA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt; came out with a CD on my birthday....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What could be better?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Has anyone been watching that new show, "Brothers to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Brutha&lt;/span&gt;" on BET? At first I thought these were some corny kids from LA. But last night, I was watching this show and boo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hooing&lt;/span&gt;! The show is really good and these kids (and they're daddy and uncle) need some serious counseling! The show is really good though and of course, right after it was my favorite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;KEYSHIA&lt;/span&gt; COLE. I swear, I pray for that family more than I do some folks that I know! BET finally stopped trying to copycat MTV so obviously with these two shows...so step in the right direction (or something like that).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In Randomness - I want to find a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;claymation&lt;/span&gt; movie to watch this weekend. Perhaps Rudolph will do ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Tis&lt;/span&gt; the Season!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-1057848562068039872?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/1057848562068039872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=1057848562068039872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1057848562068039872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1057848562068039872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-reviews-and-randomness.html' title='Thanksgiving, Reviews and Randomness....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SS168LXJbUI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/R4TSxa_NuHs/s72-c/42-19806511.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-5483113492744851757</id><published>2008-11-18T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T11:13:51.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So...I'm 26?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SSMTzQbPIuI/AAAAAAAAAJY/af_xqWsH8Ns/s1600-h/happy_birthday_10-728921.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270077760257073890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SSMTzQbPIuI/AAAAAAAAAJY/af_xqWsH8Ns/s320/happy_birthday_10-728921.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today has been sort of uneventful...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I'm cool with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All of the things that matter are in place :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So - I'm blessed to have one more year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-5483113492744851757?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/5483113492744851757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=5483113492744851757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5483113492744851757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5483113492744851757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/11/soim-26.html' title='So...I&apos;m 26?!?'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SSMTzQbPIuI/AAAAAAAAAJY/af_xqWsH8Ns/s72-c/happy_birthday_10-728921.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6122033899028959401</id><published>2008-11-13T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:19:55.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something More?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRyW9pjdJRI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/1WgzqXzSRyY/s1600-h/bling_21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268251649987388690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRyW9pjdJRI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/1WgzqXzSRyY/s320/bling_21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't you need something more?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; something more than just...this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm trying not to sound preachy, but it's hard because I don't understand "us" sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I feel as though &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; further "puts us out there" and showcases the things we consider to be&lt;em&gt; acceptable&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so disheartened when I see the same &lt;em&gt;middle/high school politics&lt;/em&gt; still plague our people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In high school, the "cool" kids were measured by how expensive their clothes were, how much they DID NOT achieve, who was the cutest/finest, who rocked the best hairstyle, etc...so on and so forth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong. I do believe the a person MUST put their best foot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;forward&lt;/span&gt;. They SHOULD be well dressed, appropriate for any given environment, and should be well kept.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However...what I'm describing, is NOT the same thing as the "high school" mentality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I'm describing is being professional and taking pride in oneself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what I'm seeing on these networking websites is enough to make me wanna scream!! Are we still promoting the fact that we're spending &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exorbitant&lt;/span&gt; amounts of money on ridiculous name brands? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like....really?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you bragging that you just bought some tacky "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Prada&lt;/span&gt;," "Louie," or "Gucci?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off some knock-off website? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;flabbergasted&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean...really?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My question to you is how much money do you have in your 401(k)?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you interested in becoming a home owner? And if so, how much money do you have saved up for your down payment?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are your credit cards maxed out? Do you have good credit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How about investments - do you have bonds, stocks, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;cds&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you bounce checks - or is your checking account in order?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you still live with your momma??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who's taking care of your kids?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does partying in the club, drinking up all of your money, sporting the latest "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;," and wearing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;flyest&lt;/span&gt; gear make you feel accomplished?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My people - we can no longer think we're wealthy or "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ballinnnnnnnn&lt;/span&gt;" if we're spending money on FOOLISHNESS that depreciates with value.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Didn't you watch "Baby Boy?" There's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;BUTTA&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;GUNZ&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just makes me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; - upset and sad for &lt;em&gt;us&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's use the fact that we're living in a time where we can celebrate...&lt;em&gt;INTELLIGENCE&lt;/em&gt; :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not gaudy 10K jewelery and cloudy (blemished) diamonds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're wasting your money and your net worth is in the negative.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6122033899028959401?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6122033899028959401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6122033899028959401' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6122033899028959401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6122033899028959401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/11/something-more.html' title='Something More?'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRyW9pjdJRI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/1WgzqXzSRyY/s72-c/bling_21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6013490680103932259</id><published>2008-11-04T03:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T03:49:49.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giddy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRA2nzBSCCI/AAAAAAAAAJI/qgStVCvKJrY/s1600-h/barack-obama-official-small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264768021734492194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRA2nzBSCCI/AAAAAAAAAJI/qgStVCvKJrY/s320/barack-obama-official-small.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never in my life have I felt like I do this morning. I woke up in the middle of the night, permeated with anticipation. I likened the feeling to being an eager kid on Christmas morning - waiting for my parents to get up - as I wait for my poll partner to come get me this morning, to VOTE. The thought of changing our nation's history brings me to tears...really? A black man, as president of the United States? But so much more than just a black man....a leader who comes along once in a lifetime. I'm honored to cast my vote in his name. Barack - defined as "blessed" or "to bless."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you imagine feeling like an election is spiritual?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to run to the polls...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to don my pin, with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barack's&lt;/span&gt; face on it, on my way to work, after my ballot has been cast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel a part of something bigger than me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something larger than life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The audacity of Hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A dream deferred.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;suddenly REALIZED.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6013490680103932259?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6013490680103932259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6013490680103932259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6013490680103932259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6013490680103932259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/11/giddy.html' title='Giddy...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SRA2nzBSCCI/AAAAAAAAAJI/qgStVCvKJrY/s72-c/barack-obama-official-small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-3772145047736656403</id><published>2008-10-09T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T15:52:50.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My way of processing life...</title><content type='html'>After reading my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spbff's&lt;/span&gt; blog, "I believe" I decided to write my beliefs...or my way of processing the world around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was cool enough to think of this on my own, but I'm not...someone told it to me and dared me to find my own set of "filters" to define my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically the concept is, figure out what's most important to you and rank those things. Process your thoughts, beliefs, morals and situations accordingly and let the chips fall as they may.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me - before August 23rd, 2008, my top three were that I'm a Christian FIRST, an African-American SECOND and a Woman THIRD.  SO - I filter my beliefs, value system, conflicts, attitude, opinion accordingly.  For example, let's say my girlfriend tells me she's thinking about cheating on her husband (who's hasn't been the best guy all around) because she's fed up with all she endured in the past and she's ready to move on.  Some woman who are WOMEN first may say - You go girl...get yours.&lt;br /&gt;Not me - the first test is moral - what would a Christian say or how would GOD advise you on this topic - then I would advise her.&lt;br /&gt;Say the topic didn't have a moral issue.  Each topic filters by which of my personal filters means the most or has the most impact according to my hierarchy. &lt;br /&gt;I hope that makes sense...&lt;br /&gt;Well...now my hierarchy has changed (only not really).  Now, that I'm engaged - I have to adjust it because I'm now embracing someone as a part of me.  So I have to redefine how my hierarchy affects someone else.  For the most part it works, only once the boo and I are officially ONE - I have to think what affects my family first.  And that's Biblical, Paul often warned about being married, because when you're single you can focus all of  your energy on God...but when you're married - you have to consider your spouse and your family needs first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Corinthians 7&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; 32But I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;careth&lt;/span&gt; for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord:&lt;br /&gt; 33But he that is married &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;careth&lt;/span&gt; for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife.&lt;br /&gt; 34There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;careth&lt;/span&gt; for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;careth&lt;/span&gt; for the things of the world, how she may please her husband.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the Amplified version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt; 32My desire is to have you free from all anxiety and distressing care. The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord--how he may please the Lord;&lt;br /&gt;    33But the married man is anxious about worldly matters--how he may please his wife--&lt;br /&gt;    34And he is drawn in diverging directions [his interests are divided and he is distracted from his devotion to God]. And the unmarried woman or girl is concerned and anxious about the matters of the Lord, how to be wholly separated and set apart in body and spirit; but the married woman has her cares [centered] in earthly affairs--how she may please her husband.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul goes on to say, he's not saying your cursed if you're married, but just warning you that things will be different and the way you used to look at things will change from God to the person you're married to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;35Now I say this for your own welfare and profit, not to put [a halter of] restraint upon you, but to promote what is seemly and in good order and to secure your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;undistracted&lt;/span&gt; and undivided devotion to the Lord.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it doesn't just begin the day you say I Do - you basically start almost functioning as one unit because after you make everything official and let people know your intentions, you begin operating as one unit.  Everything you do from that point on affects the person you're with.  You share monies for saving for the wedding, making living decisions for after the marriage, jointly decide career decisions, families meet and everything becomes....ONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO my hierarchy has shifted now - to say:&lt;br /&gt;First, how does this affect my family/husband (according to God's word)? Next, how does this affect my Christianity?&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, how does my being an African American play into this? and lastly - as a woman, what will this mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it crazy...but it works for me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-3772145047736656403?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/3772145047736656403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=3772145047736656403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3772145047736656403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3772145047736656403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-way-of-processing-life.html' title='My way of processing life...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-5027321188485541839</id><published>2008-10-03T15:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T14:38:15.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making a List, checking it twice...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOoS0u7uTNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SIskN0y-qe0/s1600-h/to%20do%20list_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254032612442131666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOoS0u7uTNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SIskN0y-qe0/s320/to%2520do%2520list_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i got some things i need to do...a ton of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm going to set a date of 12/31/2013 to do all of this stuff - 5 years, seems like a complete round number :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm inspired by a fellow blogger from college&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her list was much cooler than i think mines will be, but I will not be discouraged, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm not going to capitalize anything...b/c lowercase rocks!!! unless i'm referring to GOD - he gets caps boiiiii!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. get married for under $30,000&lt;br /&gt;2. buy a house&lt;br /&gt;3. have a banging wardrobe&lt;br /&gt;4. get a big promotion&lt;br /&gt;5. get my juris doctor&lt;br /&gt;6. cook at least 5 imes a week for my fiance/husband -when we're married have hot breakfast on the weekends.&lt;br /&gt;7. lose 40 more lbs - just b/c I want to be the flyest plus size girl on earth ;)&lt;br /&gt;8. put God first, consult him before every major decision&lt;br /&gt;9. read at least 12 books a year&lt;br /&gt;10. finish my book&lt;br /&gt;11. self publish my book, if I have to&lt;br /&gt;12. cabos san lucas - believe it!&lt;br /&gt;13. shop in Italy&lt;br /&gt;14. be more patient....waaay more&lt;br /&gt;15. cruise it - somewhere exotic&lt;br /&gt;16. take at least one vacation a year&lt;br /&gt;17. study the word of God on some form at least 4 times a week&lt;br /&gt;18. pray every morning before work&lt;br /&gt;19. exercise at least 4 days a week&lt;br /&gt;20. bless someone not related to me, tremendously, twice a year&lt;br /&gt;21. join the Praise Team&lt;br /&gt;22. volunteer - community based&lt;br /&gt;23. vote in every election I'm eligble to vote in&lt;br /&gt;24. be good to my hair :)&lt;br /&gt;25. sing at an open mic night&lt;br /&gt;26. be responsible&lt;br /&gt;27. develop a stronger work ethic&lt;br /&gt;28. brand myself&lt;br /&gt;29. start my own business&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;30. buy 3 designer bags&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31. keep pedicures in the summer &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; winter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;32. drink at least 6-8 glasses of water a day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;33. always remember to keep a 5 to 1 ratio (5 goods to 1 negative)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;34. write often&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;35. buy my parents something fabulous b/c they were the bestamest parents on earth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;36. create something bigger than myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;37. live up to Proverbs 31: 10- the end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;38. challenge myself to surpass this list&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;39. love is all we need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;40. watch the disney channel, nick or the "n" - never grow up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;41. decorate my house the way i always wanted for Christmas - lights!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;42. show appreciation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;43. tell my parents, "I love you" more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;44. don't sweat the small stuff&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;45. write/create/draw/collage my vision/hope/dreams of the future&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;46. be a woman of &lt;em&gt;Action&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;47. help someone whenever i can&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;48. eat more sushi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;49. hold hands often&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;50. remember that this is just the beginning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-5027321188485541839?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/5027321188485541839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=5027321188485541839' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5027321188485541839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5027321188485541839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/10/making-list-checking-it-twice.html' title='Making a List, checking it twice...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOoS0u7uTNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SIskN0y-qe0/s72-c/to%2520do%2520list_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6814927325363415110</id><published>2008-09-29T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T15:12:40.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change in direction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOFQRCOlrHI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Yf5MkU-T8B4/s1600-h/48a448b3-003b2-02e24-400cb8e1.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251566894076767346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOFQRCOlrHI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Yf5MkU-T8B4/s320/48a448b3-003b2-02e24-400cb8e1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to use this blog as a platform to talk about everything I feel, except Personal Finance - as I already have a blog dedicated to this function. Many times I've tried to do that on this blog, but it seems like every time I tried to put my fingers to the keyboard, what I type comes out poetic, thoughtful and less like a conversation. So what ends up happening is, I feel this immense amount of pressure when it comes to&lt;em&gt; this blog&lt;/em&gt; - because the stuff I wrote before is freaking good! Like its some deep, feeling, emotional, type stuff. So I always feel like I'm competing with myself to make &lt;em&gt;this blog entry&lt;/em&gt; better than the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Which results in my being afraid of this blog&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, I said it...I'm scared of my Collection of Moments blog - and I embrace my Personal Finance blog b/c there's no pressure there to say clever metaphors, sassy comebacks and convey deep emotion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the end result - I'm going to still allow this blog to be a collection of "moments" - who said each moment has to be filled with love? or well written? or deep?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No one!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today - I'm still sorta struggling with the fact that I have to keep my nails done - my mom's &lt;em&gt;MAKING&lt;/em&gt; me. Ever since I got my engagement ring....this has been a continuous personal committment. I want to stop it, but its like drugs, you cannot break the habit! Acrylic makes your nails brittle, so its like you HAVE to keep the nails and they do look SOO much better, especially when you're CONSTANTLY showing your hands off. But I hate the maintenence, monetary and time committment and I hate when it get old!! Cleaning up, more opportunity to BREAK them and it HURTS when it gets hit the wrong way! GRRR...so I'm at a crossroads - what to do? what to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news - I work at Freddie Mac....I think that's about all I need to say about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've come to figure out that I LOVE hosting events - ONLY if they are well executed by &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;. LOL. I hate it when I'm not in control and I need for all things to be according to schedule. Making people wait and not being on time - makes me not-so-happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wedding planning - I hate these retarded wedding vendors who take FOREVER to get back to you....errrr what? I mean seriously - I asked you ONE question, just write back...and then let me decide whether or not I want to sign your contract, thanks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah, word to the wise - when you're engaged to someone, you enter into this new "wedding planning" land with them - and let's just say, the pressure to put on this "event" (yes, I'm aware that I chose that word) makes you and the love of your life act a &lt;em&gt;bit&lt;/em&gt; out of character...just a bit. Needless to say, your love has to be strong and your patience loooooong (on both sides). Let me just say for the record - the qualities that I LOVE about my fiance - are so annoying during the planning process (yep, again, I SAID IT!!!)!!! I LOVE that my baby is a strong educated male. One with great opinions and ideas that are sometimes the opposite of mines. I love that he doesn't back down from a challenge and I'm always proud to call him a &lt;strong&gt;MAN&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;MY&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;MAN &lt;/strong&gt;:) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This (what I just described)...not soo cute when you're questioning why I don't wanna wear a veil!! Because &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I DON'T WANNA&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!! lol....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's going to kill me when he sees this (sad face)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love you pook-tastic ;)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also love that he's secure enough to not even flinch when I call him the craziest pet names, in public and his boys laugh at him...and he still answers me like he didn't hear them (kisses on the cheek)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love - in general - aside from the wedding planning - GOSH - I've learned so much for you! I've seen you in different forms, manifesting in friends, coworkers and associates...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I'm going to be honest - I hate how the quest for you dominates people so much and turns them into a shell of the person they once were. I love how you make me feel every time I fall to sleep in my finace's arms. &lt;em&gt;I love the person I've turned into because of you&lt;/em&gt;. I hate the lack of you in the world. I love the passionate version of you.  I love the calm, every day - "I could sit and play on the computer, while he watches the football game" version of you. I love when I see you and you're real :) I LOATHE imitators of you. I love the GOD in you....Love - I LOVE you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ignorance...I feel sorry for people who operate in it. Stupidity - definitely detest you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want a raise....now. I guess it's true, the more you make the more you want to make? Or something like that.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been thinking about baby names for my children lately - I swear I can see those little jokers running around our future house....it makes me excited. I'm SO ready to be a wife. Like really ready - I want to embrace this next phase of my life, head on. I love cooking for my fiance. I hate cleaning - but I love the feeling get when my apartment is clean and he comes over and says my new comforter I picked out is pretty. I love my Sam's Club membership - I like shopping in bulk. I went to the grocery store the other day and scoffed at the prices - &lt;strong&gt;out loud&lt;/strong&gt;. I love making decisions with someone who's opinion I value, I respect and think the world of (I'm the girl in the picture above, discussing major life decisions with my eternal partner *smile*) Making someone else happy is a great challenge that I embrace, I try to find the cutest e-cards, coupon books and other random tokens of affection so I can "outdo" him in the race of love. I like hanging out with other couples (read: cool couples) - and I looooooooove going to church with my fiance and holding his hand during the sermon. I'm excited for pre martial counseling and in 2-3 years...I cannot wait to have his children. I'm a sap - whatever, talk about me. I used to be one of the naysayers and I'm an in-love loser - and i LOVE it. HECK, I even like PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION!!! THAT'S RIGHT!!! I'm sure some people who used to know me in high school and college are like, WHAT?!?! WHO!??! Yep - it's me... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's today's collection of moments - I'll be back tomorrow :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6814927325363415110?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6814927325363415110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6814927325363415110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6814927325363415110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6814927325363415110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/09/change-in-direction.html' title='Change in direction'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SOFQRCOlrHI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Yf5MkU-T8B4/s72-c/48a448b3-003b2-02e24-400cb8e1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-313144300170423963</id><published>2008-08-28T14:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T14:49:34.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SLcdYUFlpKI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/bVBHumoUM1w/s1600-h/22422404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239688995015074978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SLcdYUFlpKI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/bVBHumoUM1w/s320/22422404.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This collection of moments includes the ups and downs of love up to this point in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;but Saturday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday, August 23, 2008 changed everything...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I tell you that love has completely surprised me, know that I'm telling the truth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything that I ever believed about love...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;BLACK love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;changed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the day HE entered my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to think that you had to work really hard for love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;that a man could never do something, &lt;em&gt;just because&lt;/em&gt;....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, maybe he could, but those days were few and far between.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to think that women's ideas and goals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;were so far from what a man wanted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now I know differently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now...I know that if you dream of someone who will appreciate and value you for who you really are,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God will send him to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't matter how many Ishmael's come - Issac is on his way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not acting like it did it all perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God knows that I've made mistakes and spent too much time dwelling over ones that he didn't have for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I think God for his &lt;strong&gt;GRACE and MERCY&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He allowed me to realize that I'm much too important of a person to settle for less than His best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He showed me that I needed to focus on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get my life in order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Clean up my house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BE HAPPY WITH MYSELF.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Learn to love every piece of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He showed me that I'm not perfect and told me things I needed to work on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He let me run away, only to realize that it all came BACK to HIM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I thank God for showing me some things that I wasn't able to see for myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now He tells me to WRITE it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To show other women&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;BLACK women&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;that if we LOVE ourselves and honor CHRIST - first and foremost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He can and he will give you what your heart desires.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've changed it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My opinions on love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and how it works...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is a man who will treat you like a queen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and be on the SAME PAGE you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even when I thought it was CRAZY that I KNEW he was my husband on our first date.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I fell in love with him that night at the movie theatre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God intertwined our thoughts and our hearts both beat the same rhythm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people said our romance was fast and we needed to slow it down...some people even laughed when I said, I found him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought our pace would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dissipate&lt;/span&gt; because of the naysayers and then you SILENCED them...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;with a &lt;em&gt;ring&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and three simple words, Will you marry me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say three, even though &lt;em&gt;I know it's four&lt;/em&gt; because I SCREAMED, YES YES YES YES YES YES YES !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;before you could get that last word out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God has blessed me tremendously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never did I understand his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; undying love for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;until he sent me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;HIM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-313144300170423963?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/313144300170423963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=313144300170423963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/313144300170423963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/313144300170423963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/08/thank-you.html' title='Thank You...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SLcdYUFlpKI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/bVBHumoUM1w/s72-c/22422404.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-1511282514839562227</id><published>2008-08-16T23:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T00:04:06.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THREE AM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SKfNV0sWopI/AAAAAAAAAHw/9zNJM51HJbw/s1600-h/22897313.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235378866647114386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SKfNV0sWopI/AAAAAAAAAHw/9zNJM51HJbw/s320/22897313.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's three am and I can't go to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think its' because my mind is full, my heart is happy, my mouth is eager to speak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But my sister is out with my other roommate and my boyfriend is sleeping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My other roommate is out of town and my college roommate is in Virginia Beach with her boyfriend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SPBFF&lt;/span&gt; is probably sound asleep because...it is 3 am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I turn to one of my very best friends. My thoughts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized today that I am happy with my thoughts, even though they scare me at times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the only reason they scare me is because they're tinged with reality. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A reality full of favor, blessings, slight insecurities, overall exuberance, clarity and partly cloudy skies...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My last post, I exclaimed, I AM ME!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I am :) so happily me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a great feeling to have....even with it's 3 am in the morning. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think AM means, in the morning - but somethings you have to write out twice...for emphasis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I am not at odds with myself. I think that true acceptance of each flaw, each quirk is the true essence of happiness....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Realizing that you may not have all of the answers, just a lot of gut feelings...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and blind faith - its enough :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that's all for now....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's so much more I could say - but some things, you have to let tickle the corners of your heart and mind only.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll relish that part of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and let no one see :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOOD MORNING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-1511282514839562227?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/1511282514839562227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=1511282514839562227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1511282514839562227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1511282514839562227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/08/three-am.html' title='THREE AM'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SKfNV0sWopI/AAAAAAAAAHw/9zNJM51HJbw/s72-c/22897313.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-8185916996279557025</id><published>2008-08-07T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T11:16:36.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am me....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJtRNikz6NI/AAAAAAAAAHo/5JlotIikg3A/s1600-h/jillscott340x240pgzn2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231864685182314706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJtRNikz6NI/AAAAAAAAAHo/5JlotIikg3A/s320/jillscott340x240pgzn2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;Being Me.&lt;br /&gt;I am completely at ease with who I am.&lt;br /&gt;I think that is a profound statement&lt;br /&gt;Considering many people are struggling to figure out who they are.&lt;br /&gt;I say, I am a lover.&lt;br /&gt;A companion to a great man, who loves me for who I am&lt;br /&gt;Embraces the things that make me different&lt;br /&gt;Love the curves, the lumps and bumps, my body&lt;br /&gt;Tells me each day that when I open my mouth to speak&lt;br /&gt;He falls deeper in love with me.&lt;br /&gt;I say, I am a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Not the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; friend...but I try to do what I know is right.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get it wrong. At times, I know I've said hurtful things...&lt;br /&gt;Mostly out of love, but perception, is, in fact, reality.&lt;br /&gt;But I see the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in my friends. I want them to be their &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I have their &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; interest in heart. So I learn...&lt;br /&gt;I learn to shut up and to realize sometimes the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; thing you can do it listen&lt;br /&gt;and hope they make the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;best&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; out of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;And if or when they ever need you...make &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yourself&lt;/span&gt; available.&lt;br /&gt;Loyalty, Honestly and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dependability&lt;/span&gt; - I am a friend.&lt;br /&gt;I say, I am a sister.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I try too hard to make sure you don't fall in the same traps I did...&lt;br /&gt;Can you blame me? I just want to make sure you're better than I am.&lt;br /&gt;I am the best sister in the world...I'm not bragging, it's true. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This must be how a mother feels...except without the child birth.&lt;br /&gt;I am most proud of you and who you've become.&lt;br /&gt;I am to you, what I wish an older person was to me - and I'm good at it.&lt;br /&gt;Aren't you glad...&lt;br /&gt;I say, I am larger than life.&lt;br /&gt;Its taken a long time to TRULY embrace myself. My words, my actions, my body, my hair.&lt;br /&gt;Everything that makes me grand, big, loud, large...and I like it.&lt;br /&gt;Fabulously, effortlessly, wonderfully bigger than you can ever imagine.&lt;br /&gt;Healthy, Actively me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may not be under 5'3 or weigh what society tells me...&lt;br /&gt;but I am beautiful&lt;br /&gt;I say, I am pretty....beauty is not defined by what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Eurocentrics&lt;/span&gt; think or tell me.&lt;br /&gt;What shown on videos, magazines or TVs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beauty is twisting my hair,&lt;br /&gt;two strand twists, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so when I make up in the morning my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Afro&lt;/span&gt; is FIERCE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sun kissed golden brown skin, bright smile, pink lips, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;large eyes, large thighs, medium bust, big hips...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sweeeeeet&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-8185916996279557025?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/8185916996279557025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=8185916996279557025' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8185916996279557025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8185916996279557025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-am-comfortable.html' title='I am me....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJtRNikz6NI/AAAAAAAAAHo/5JlotIikg3A/s72-c/jillscott340x240pgzn2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-2873031344157757259</id><published>2008-08-04T08:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:45:34.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Foreign Land....</title><content type='html'>your words have moved me to an unfamiliar space&lt;br /&gt;somehow a reassured confident woman is now nervous....&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how to occupy this brand new place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scared, butterflies, fear of the unknown&lt;br /&gt;isn't that how you put it the other day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 something year old black man - why is it hard being grown?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never knew that the thought of the big day&lt;br /&gt;would make you feel the opposite of me&lt;br /&gt;invoking fear of flight - that's what you say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i placed you on a pedestal, that no other man has been&lt;br /&gt;confident that my prince charming never knew the meaning of cold feet&lt;br /&gt;but one moment of honesty, much to my chagrin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see you strong, tall, large, grand&lt;br /&gt;commanding, deep voice, intense gaze&lt;br /&gt;big hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nervous of what, making a happily ever after come true?&lt;br /&gt;scared of obeying God's command?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know whether i should cry or write&lt;br /&gt;should I be happy your honest, should I run for cover&lt;br /&gt;take flight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i write the happy things, the love things,&lt;br /&gt;never been inspired much by tears&lt;br /&gt;guess there's a first time for everything&lt;br /&gt;even if hasn't happened in years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're just man&lt;br /&gt;i put my confidence in Christ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just give me a chance to heal&lt;br /&gt;just as you prayed for us last night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you held my hand, kissed my fingers&lt;br /&gt;asked God to reveal to me you're only human.&lt;br /&gt;you're just scared about changing my life forever&lt;br /&gt;Making sure we are a success, not ending in ruin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but a part of me you changed last night&lt;br /&gt;i just need a bit of time&lt;br /&gt;to adjust to seeing you in a different light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a man&lt;br /&gt;pure and simple&lt;br /&gt;capable of making a mistake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a man&lt;br /&gt;young and single&lt;br /&gt;nervous about the future&lt;br /&gt;confident in his love for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the&lt;br /&gt;man&lt;br /&gt;God&lt;br /&gt;sent&lt;br /&gt;me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-2873031344157757259?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/2873031344157757259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=2873031344157757259' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2873031344157757259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2873031344157757259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/08/foreign-land.html' title='Foreign Land....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-4308151278400643406</id><published>2008-07-28T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T10:53:19.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>baby do those things...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJHzRackA4I/AAAAAAAAAGA/czRqjICE6do/s1600-h/couple-bed-laugh-kiss-300-051407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229228122836304770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJHzRackA4I/AAAAAAAAAGA/czRqjICE6do/s320/couple-bed-laugh-kiss-300-051407.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;today i you told me everything i wanted to hear&lt;br /&gt;granted it wasn't under the most normal circumstances&lt;br /&gt;but that's neither there...nor here.&lt;br /&gt;you said things that i dreamed of hearing you say&lt;br /&gt;not the things you just repeat&lt;br /&gt;when i say it first, that day&lt;br /&gt;i know you mean it even though it lacks that sounds i want to hear&lt;br /&gt;that urgent yearning, wanting, needing&lt;br /&gt;that sounds like the cheesy best selling romance of the year&lt;br /&gt;its just that you give to me in doses&lt;br /&gt;like each nugget of your affection&lt;br /&gt;is special to me like those roses&lt;br /&gt;that I dried, the first ones you gave to me, valentines day&lt;br /&gt;i didn't expect anything from you that day&lt;br /&gt;forgive me if each of your words taste like honey to me&lt;br /&gt;the sounds of your voice sweet like heaven to me&lt;br /&gt;i crave listening to your heart beat&lt;br /&gt;playing with your size 14 feet&lt;br /&gt;falling asleep on your chest, in your arms, in our world&lt;br /&gt;babe i need to hear you say it one more time&lt;br /&gt;before I go to sleep&lt;br /&gt;maybe you didn't realize it was this deep&lt;br /&gt;for me to hear you say it the way I wanna hear it said&lt;br /&gt;wanna climb into your bed&lt;br /&gt;or have you sing to me&lt;br /&gt;even if you forget the words&lt;br /&gt;see you dance for me&lt;br /&gt;take me outta here, into your world&lt;br /&gt;you can't just give it to me once&lt;br /&gt;and not expect me to become a fiend&lt;br /&gt;of those precious timeless words that&lt;br /&gt;you show me how much i mean&lt;br /&gt;to you in the most special way&lt;br /&gt;i don't care what time of day&lt;br /&gt;just say to me&lt;br /&gt;what you know I love to hear&lt;br /&gt;anything from the heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the things I treasure...moments I hold dear ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I rhymed..ha ha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-4308151278400643406?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/4308151278400643406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=4308151278400643406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4308151278400643406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4308151278400643406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/today-i-you-told-me-everything-i-wanted.html' title='baby do those things...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SJHzRackA4I/AAAAAAAAAGA/czRqjICE6do/s72-c/couple-bed-laugh-kiss-300-051407.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-893633097468785068</id><published>2008-07-28T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T10:41:35.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I grow up....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SI4EH3ruHfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/3LuHuPLw8EI/s1600-h/WhenIGrowUp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228120750676647410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SI4EH3ruHfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/3LuHuPLw8EI/s320/WhenIGrowUp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told myself today, YOU ARE AN ADULT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I think I mean every word that I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;only its hard to fathom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;because I'm stuck somewhere between&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;buying a house and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;playing make believe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I keep having dreams of my future sons&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and how much hair my daughter's going to have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then I remembered how I stayed up till 2am last night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;watching episodes of Baldwin Hills&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and That's So Raven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, how I laughed with my boyfriend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;about how silly each character was&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And during the afternoon, this past Sunday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to Six Flags on my season's pass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought it because I knew I would go more than 1 time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and get my money's worth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'M AN ADULT, I told myself today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I can't wait to get home and play in the Wii&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and battle my roommates in a tennis tournament.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I have roommates...so what - what's wrong with that??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my rent costs less than some people's car payments&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so - don't judge me, lol..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I went out to the dancing with my girls the other night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and watched the newest Batman movie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;then I played hand clap games on the National Harbor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;remembering "how to get the rhythm of the HOOOOOT DOG"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;singing "down, down baby, down by the roller coaster"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WOW how long ago was that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not too long ago, I think to myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I said - GIRL YOU ARE AN ADULT - as I looked in the mirror.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pulled some curls towards my face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;put on some make-up, brushed my teeth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;put on a black skirt, fitted white top, black peep toes and gray shell earrings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;grabbed my company laptop, and a bowl of fruit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;got on the elevator, hopping in my mazda6.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sped down 495&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...10 minutes late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep...I'm an adult :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's what I told myself...today, as I logged onto my computer - pulled up Solitaire and got &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ready&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-893633097468785068?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/893633097468785068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=893633097468785068' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/893633097468785068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/893633097468785068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-i-grow-up.html' title='When I grow up....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SI4EH3ruHfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/3LuHuPLw8EI/s72-c/WhenIGrowUp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-3998191513862534748</id><published>2008-07-25T05:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T06:07:55.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>regular musings....</title><content type='html'>SO i was told that needed to update my blog the other day. the thing with me is, if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not inspired, I usually cannot write. it has to be this thing, like this thing that wakes me up from my sleep and no matter how much I try to fight it, i have to get up and write. its usually one word. i don't write it out, like they used to teach you in elementary school and make a word map (remember those with the clouds and stuff). i don't make an outline, but when it's done, it looks like i tried to organize it some type of way...only i didn't. the one thought usually comes out structured, when its all said and done.&lt;br /&gt;SO today...i have not pressing thoughts. not ones that make me wanna get up and write.&lt;br /&gt;but my mind it filled with a bunch of stuff. sometimes the stuff is so complex, i don't want to write it. perhaps I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; for people to see the everyday thoughts in my mind. i think because i think they're not good enough to write in this blog. if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; going to publish my post, it has to be good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;SO i wait until its an urging in my spirit, until the writing it so big it can't contain itself in my head or the thoughts are so profound that they have to go somewhere. maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; scared that my regular musing won't get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; or perhaps my random thoughts may offend someone. i think because the things I think of everyday is how i hate going to work. don't get me wrong, i don't hate my job. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; blessed to have my job. its a great job. and i get paid good money..but what if I don't want to GO?&lt;br /&gt;SO you see my everyday thoughts are full of who established this system of working 5 days a week? and how come &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; scared to ask my supervisor can we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;telework&lt;/span&gt; for one day out of the week, especially since it's corporate policy. general litigation is busy...but shoot, i can do some of this crap on a home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;pc&lt;/span&gt;. trust me. and then my other thoughts are how come I don't have enough dresses? every time i go to the store, i buy at least 3...so how come I've ran out today and i have to wear dress slacks?? i hate pants in the summer time. why can't i bum it up with my boyfriend today? and how come our titles both say we're analysts? who made up that term and did they do it to make us feel better about our positions? i mean seriously...what the heck is a systems analyst or a legal analyst?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and who cares...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-3998191513862534748?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/3998191513862534748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=3998191513862534748' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3998191513862534748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3998191513862534748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-i-was-told-that-needed-to-update-my.html' title='regular musings....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-1601560143870016849</id><published>2008-07-02T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:54:24.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1095 Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0STUtM72I/AAAAAAAAAC8/yOhzjMWi_tU/s1600-h/031506monica315.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218847666377387874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0STUtM72I/AAAAAAAAAC8/yOhzjMWi_tU/s320/031506monica315.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each written work possesses a back story.&lt;br /&gt;Its own set of tears or smiles&lt;br /&gt;a particular set of circumstances&lt;br /&gt;its individual place in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself reliving each moment&lt;br /&gt;triumphant in each victory&lt;br /&gt;crushed with every downfall&lt;br /&gt;enamored with every happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1095 days of my life&lt;br /&gt;the ages of 22 to 25&lt;br /&gt;marked with every pivotal emotion&lt;br /&gt;each public in their posting&lt;br /&gt;private in their occurrence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to keep my sanity&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to rejoice&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to explain my confusion&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to tell you off&lt;br /&gt;i wrote until my fingers hurt&lt;br /&gt;i wrote when i couldn't sleep&lt;br /&gt;i wrote when i loved&lt;br /&gt;i wrote when i hated&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to write&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to pray&lt;br /&gt;i wrote to read&lt;br /&gt;read me&lt;br /&gt;get me&lt;br /&gt;get him&lt;br /&gt;get rid of him&lt;br /&gt;get into me&lt;br /&gt;get into God&lt;br /&gt;God get him to me&lt;br /&gt;so i can&lt;br /&gt;learn him&lt;br /&gt;know him&lt;br /&gt;love him&lt;br /&gt;love me&lt;br /&gt;love him loving me&lt;br /&gt;love me loving him&lt;br /&gt;love learning love&lt;br /&gt;loving correctly&lt;br /&gt;correcting me&lt;br /&gt;correcting him&lt;br /&gt;in love&lt;br /&gt;walk beside him&lt;br /&gt;him beside me&lt;br /&gt;i write&lt;br /&gt;i wrote&lt;br /&gt;i wrote him&lt;br /&gt;i dreamed him&lt;br /&gt;i'm dreaming&lt;br /&gt;i'm writing&lt;br /&gt;i'm living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dream :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy anniversary T...&lt;br /&gt;07/02/08&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-1601560143870016849?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/1601560143870016849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=1601560143870016849' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1601560143870016849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1601560143870016849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/each-written-work-possesses-backstory.html' title='1095 Days'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0STUtM72I/AAAAAAAAAC8/yOhzjMWi_tU/s72-c/031506monica315.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-2695444376557357131</id><published>2008-07-02T11:49:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T14:46:30.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STOP ASKING ME!!!!! ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0UD9CTaDI/AAAAAAAAADM/JXm3eWf2mBM/s1600-h/past.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218849601348659250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0UD9CTaDI/AAAAAAAAADM/JXm3eWf2mBM/s320/past.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: blessed&lt;br /&gt;He's such an afterthought to me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey where's so and so &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who? Are you asking me…seriously?&lt;br /&gt;Haven't even spoken for quite some time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And each day I go through the motions&lt;br /&gt;Promise you – he's NOT on my mind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason you look at me in shock &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like it's hard for you to believe &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That I could be so completely happy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As though my heart should be bleeding &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That you assumed you would see it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On my sleeve&lt;br /&gt;Hardly pumping and gasping for air&lt;br /&gt;Like on some type of life support&lt;br /&gt;Surprised that you would think that I would care&lt;br /&gt;I feel like this question is a joke &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Didn't I tell you I would be okay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like my girl Chrisette said &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With her tall boots &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking high &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And her purse on her inner elbow crease&lt;br /&gt;Big hips switching side to side &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's who I channeling&lt;br /&gt;When I'm thinking "to the left, to the left" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ain't even on the bitter stuff&lt;br /&gt;I just wish you would stop with this&lt;br /&gt;Incessant, constant question asking &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This badgering… This probing…&lt;br /&gt;I'm good, I'm promise you…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told you I would be…&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my mobile facebook – updating my status…&lt;br /&gt;JUST….Soooooooooooooooooooooo happy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweet on something new &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Focused on MY Business&lt;br /&gt;Streams of income to field my destiny&lt;br /&gt;Shopping to UP my game &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stylin in some new demin&lt;br /&gt;Wearing peep toe pumps with tights&lt;br /&gt;Writing out my dreams in an endless sea of blogs &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterthoughts – exactly – I can't even remember &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What did you ask me a second ago? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shooot…&lt;br /&gt;My calendar's open – stop talking to me about THAT September&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-2695444376557357131?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/2695444376557357131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=2695444376557357131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2695444376557357131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2695444376557357131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/stop-asking-me.html' title='STOP ASKING ME!!!!! ;)'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0UD9CTaDI/AAAAAAAAADM/JXm3eWf2mBM/s72-c/past.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-4836048146261295685</id><published>2008-07-02T11:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:31:44.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yaaaaaaaah trick yaaaaaaaaah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0M-czHXRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/O7X7_kCUbBk/s1600-h/WomanYelling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218841810214280466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0M-czHXRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/O7X7_kCUbBk/s320/WomanYelling.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;silly silly groupie...don't you understand?&lt;br /&gt;that losing your self worth is more expensive than that autograph on your hand??&lt;br /&gt;some women would do anything to be a man's priority&lt;br /&gt;your nothing more than an option in his "potential bed post notch" category&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired of raising the bar&lt;br /&gt;and trying to show him how a lady conducts herself&lt;br /&gt;if she had a bit of integrity&lt;br /&gt;and an ounce of self worth&lt;br /&gt;the question I want to propose to you&lt;br /&gt;is how do you feel after he's had his hands all over you?&lt;br /&gt;and then never calls you? texts you, unless he wants you to come through??&lt;br /&gt;and God forbid it be at a normal hour like 7 in the evening&lt;br /&gt;and he asks you out on a date so yall be can seen out in public.&lt;br /&gt;naw he wants you to come over, chill - watch tv, so yall can "connect"&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure that's exactly what he wants to do&lt;br /&gt;get to know you&lt;br /&gt;with the lights off&lt;br /&gt;and figure out exactly who you are - through and through...&lt;br /&gt;don't you get tired of putting yourself out there&lt;br /&gt;only to find you ain't the only one?&lt;br /&gt;that's he's been running this same tired lame game&lt;br /&gt;in fact, it's easier when he doesn't refer to you by name&lt;br /&gt;he just calls you boo, baby, or honey&lt;br /&gt;maybe it would be more real to you if you exchange an act for money...&lt;br /&gt;at least then you could benefit from the transaction&lt;br /&gt;instead of him slowly breaking down your spirit each time he gets some "backseat action"&lt;br /&gt;i'ma stop pulpitting for a second and just let this breath&lt;br /&gt;i'm just so sick of you writing foolishness on your myspace page&lt;br /&gt;thinking you've won...like you've got the ultimate trick up your sleeve&lt;br /&gt;silly silly groupie...give it a rest&lt;br /&gt;you're not happy in your present state - your lifestyle is a mess..&lt;br /&gt;stop shouting out the haters and doing inappropriate picture poses&lt;br /&gt;we're all hip to your game...everything's not coming up roses..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha ha...&lt;br /&gt;a lot of that rhymed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-4836048146261295685?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/4836048146261295685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=4836048146261295685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4836048146261295685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4836048146261295685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/yaaaaaaaah-trick-yaaaaaaaaah.html' title='yaaaaaaaah trick yaaaaaaaaah!'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0M-czHXRI/AAAAAAAAAB8/O7X7_kCUbBk/s72-c/WomanYelling.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-7942751277783270293</id><published>2008-07-02T11:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:25:46.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0LlszwdYI/AAAAAAAAABs/TI4-iVpwneA/s1600-h/blackloveart16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218840285503583618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0LlszwdYI/AAAAAAAAABs/TI4-iVpwneA/s320/blackloveart16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wednesday, February 13, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current mood: jubilant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;you completely changed my life&lt;br /&gt;perception of what I&lt;br /&gt;thought perfection was&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;saw my vision&lt;br /&gt;Habakkuk chapter two verse two&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;saw flashes of the future&lt;br /&gt;us in the congregation lifting hands&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;heard God speaking clearly&lt;br /&gt;to me and you&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;fell in sync at first date&lt;br /&gt;talking till 2 am&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;couldn't imagine you not in my life&lt;br /&gt;saying things like I know I'm your wife&lt;br /&gt;in less than 7 days&lt;br /&gt;got me calling my mom and dad&lt;br /&gt;asking them what they think&lt;br /&gt;in less than seven days&lt;br /&gt;our sisters saying its the Spirit&lt;br /&gt;bringing us close&lt;br /&gt;in less than seven days&lt;br /&gt;got me praying on my knees&lt;br /&gt;asking God could it really be me&lt;br /&gt;In less than seven days?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-7942751277783270293?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/7942751277783270293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=7942751277783270293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7942751277783270293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7942751277783270293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/7.html' title='7'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0LlszwdYI/AAAAAAAAABs/TI4-iVpwneA/s72-c/blackloveart16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6202386566060511352</id><published>2008-07-02T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:27:18.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feb 6th, 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0L87hPq_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/nKC05TvXfmo/s1600-h/blackloveart4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218840684589460466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0L87hPq_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/nKC05TvXfmo/s320/blackloveart4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: amorous Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=13"&gt;Romance and Relationships&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first day I looked at you and saw you for you really were. You just got a fresh haircut and you're goatee was freshly trimmed. I thought... Hmm – he looks handsome tonight. I remember the butterflies I felt when I walked though my apartment lobby and the click clack of my high boots. I saw my reflection in the mirror and thought to myself – okay….looking good girl. And I smiled. Then wondered did you see me smile? Shoot…I probably looked sorta goofy, smiling to myself and no ones around. Is he looking at me walking towards this glass door? Perhaps I need to try to look cool. Maybe I can switch my hips a bit more….if he's looking….and make it look like I walk like this all of the time. I bet I'm smiling again – laughing at myself. Time to open the door. Is he going to get out of the car?? You do. Crap – what to say? Hi! How are you? You say, you look nice… Thanks – you got your hair cut! I like it like this. We hug. I'm nervous. He's so tall. I feel small with you. Like you can beat up the world. Like no one will harm me…ha ha. He better open my door –next thought. You don't hesitate. I CLIMB in the Suburban. I wonder how he drives this thing. How much is gas?? Uh oh - Am I supposed to unlock the door for him? I watch you walk around your car. Oh…it's already unlocked… whew! I'm not too good at this type of stuff. You get in…I remember you smelled like fresh laundry. No cologne. That's not really your style. You thumb through about 800 bootleg Cds. I think to myself, if he was my boyfriend, I would get him an ipod. We drive to the movie theatre. Some smooth R&amp;amp;B plays in the background. This is kinda romantic – I think…sorta sappy too. What to say, what to say. We make jokes, small talk and such about life, work and the rest. Where is your coat, he asks when we arrive. Its WARM outside! Like 70 degrees! I exclaim. He's wearing a big peacoat. He looks handsome. I feel small again. I like feeling like that. We walk into the theatre AND do something cheap like show them our college ids. It's only a $1 off. But it's worth it. You asks if I'm hungry. It's the first date – no eating allowed…lol No, I say. We go into an empty theatre and you make some sorta corny joke about where do I wanna sit. It's funny – I like goofy guys. Shoot – I'm still nervous. Does this end?? The nervousness, I mean. Not the date. The dates cool – he's fun, I think as we walk dead center in the middle of the theatre….ohh, here comes that seating part. The new fangled theatres have the armrest to pull up. Is he going to pull it up? And make our seats - LOVE seats?? LOL Dang, he does it before he even sits!! He already had it planned out - lol Hmm – how should I sit next to him? Is he really going to eat all of those pretzel bites? I hope his breath doesn't stink. I find a good place to sit. Not too close, not too far. You say something – you're breath smells warm…but not stinky. I can deal with it. Ummm – okay, this movies' weird. We both look at each other and laugh – he pulls me close to him… I fall into his arms. You fall into my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6202386566060511352?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6202386566060511352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6202386566060511352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6202386566060511352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6202386566060511352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/feb-6th-2008.html' title='Feb 6th, 2008'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0L87hPq_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/nKC05TvXfmo/s72-c/blackloveart4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-1418574809234237706</id><published>2008-07-02T11:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:34:27.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're gonnna miss my love....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0Nm4UHEgI/AAAAAAAAACE/DF9dKAWS_64/s1600-h/tear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218842504795197954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0Nm4UHEgI/AAAAAAAAACE/DF9dKAWS_64/s320/tear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Part of me wishes you would’ve fought harder to win me back. Wishes you could've realize the gem you had in front of you. I was that person who held you down when no one else had your back. Showed you your potential, helped you become a man, but I guess that wasn't enough for you to fight for me. Even when you hurt and betrayed me, I came back and showed that I would be loyal in the midst of anything - yet and still, it wasn't enough for you. I tried to be your friend, grow with you, wait for you, but I cannot wait my entire life for you to become something that you may never be. Part of me is pissed off b/c I spent so much time trying to turn this coal of a relationship into a diamond - but Baby....I just can't take all of the pressure and heat necessary for this thing to change into something beautiful...I'm not built for that kind of pain and hurt. That sad thing is I don't think you see what it is that you've done to me. And maybe you don't see it b/c God has spared me the feelings of bitterness and distress. He showed me who I am in Him and I don't have the base my self worth in the fact that you treated me like the dirt beneath your feet. Even in the midst of all of this, I can still say I love you...but that's neither here nor there. Thank God, my heart has healed and this is the last bit of closure I need. You say, Teach me to love???? I cannot teach what hasn't been learned at this point, especially if you aren't willing or ready to learn. Like I said in an earlier blog...it's TIME OUT for missionary dating...&lt;br /&gt;It's time for me....&lt;br /&gt;So this is my farewell to pain, hurt, misunderstanding and drama.&lt;br /&gt;I don't need it anymore...and I certainly won't take it from YOU..no matter HOW much I LOVED you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-1418574809234237706?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/1418574809234237706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=1418574809234237706' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1418574809234237706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/1418574809234237706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/youre-gonnna-miss-my-love.html' title='You&apos;re gonnna miss my love....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0Nm4UHEgI/AAAAAAAAACE/DF9dKAWS_64/s72-c/tear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-5369328186313944013</id><published>2008-07-02T11:35:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:39:40.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>avant-garde...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0O1g8vpaI/AAAAAAAAACM/V5Crfk-MhDA/s1600-h/1a851ca336b4a08a7707e2094490f81e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218843855732843938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0O1g8vpaI/AAAAAAAAACM/V5Crfk-MhDA/s320/1a851ca336b4a08a7707e2094490f81e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: optimistic Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=12"&gt;Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some type of mental stimulation, intellectual connection, verbal vibration has me giddy as all get out recently and I can't seems to differentiate between mondays and wednesdays and fridays and tuesdays and sundays and thursdays and saturdays because the days just seems to blur into this continuous mess of emotions and it makes me wonder how in the world i allowed this cerebral stimulus, mind union, spoken sensation take to me a place that has me flighty as ______.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-5369328186313944013?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/5369328186313944013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=5369328186313944013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5369328186313944013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5369328186313944013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/avant-garde.html' title='avant-garde...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0O1g8vpaI/AAAAAAAAACM/V5Crfk-MhDA/s72-c/1a851ca336b4a08a7707e2094490f81e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-7755149374917538140</id><published>2008-07-02T11:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T11:35:41.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>F-u-t-u-r-e....</title><content type='html'>Current mood: anxious Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=12"&gt;Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 years ago I had the answers - at least I thought I did...&lt;br /&gt;but on a night like tonight, after everyone's asked you all about your past and your present - it sorta makes you wonder - what is the future?&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think I was supposed to have all of the answers - in fact, I know that I'm not supposed to.&lt;br /&gt;people got me wondering if what I know is incorrect - loyalty got me questioning if I'm doing what's right&lt;br /&gt;my sense of independence has me running from commitment - my intuition's got me wondering if...I'm making the right decision&lt;br /&gt;my foundation's starting to doubt the things that I say - but it doesn't know me as a woman, just a little girl who used to lie to get out of tight spots.&lt;br /&gt;it's never seen me as an adult, so I guess I can't blame it much for not knowing me as such...&lt;br /&gt;the f-u-t-u-r-e seems so uncertain, yet full of all types of possiblities...that I know I can fulfill if I just get outta my own way&lt;br /&gt;start being my biggest cheerleader, do some things for me, don't let commitment and loyalty scare me into being somebody I don't want to be. don't let my intuition down and never compromise me for anybody...never allow my foundation to shift so that everything built upon that rock will stand&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-7755149374917538140?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/7755149374917538140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=7755149374917538140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7755149374917538140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7755149374917538140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/f-u-t-u-r-e.html' title='F-u-t-u-r-e....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-5425037207141143524</id><published>2008-07-02T11:34:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:13:01.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>she must not know about me....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0ImJ-ghdI/AAAAAAAAABc/WX0RN4YZrsk/s1600-h/GroupofWomen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218836994798421458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0ImJ-ghdI/AAAAAAAAABc/WX0RN4YZrsk/s320/GroupofWomen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: pissed off&lt;br /&gt;racism still exists in 2007...but it's covert, people make random statements and you're just supposed to accept it b/c it's not balantly in your face. people mistake my sweet, sunny disposition and think that if you come outta your mouth sideways, i'm not going to say anything....dead wrong my dear. i don't really care that we kicked it at a happy hour or two or that you've told me about some issues you had in the past. you will never disrespect my father, my brothers, my friends and my black males in front of my face and think i won't check you on it. past or not, there's no excuse for stereotyping and i'll be _____ if you're going to say something about black men to ME and think you're going to get away with it. i'm not the one. people think just b/c a level of comfort has been established that you can all of the sudden say whatever you want. listen here, i'm not a woman first....i'm a BLACK woman first and don't you ever forget that. i will have undying loyalty to my fathers/brothers/and men of intergity and you will NOT put them into any box and come outta your mouth any type of way with me. people think b/c i put on my 'workplace' persona that i'm not still erika from richmond va. you want to see some ignorance? b/c i can show you how ignorant a negro like me can get....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or i won't...i'll just answer you and shut your ignorance butt down INTELLIGENTLY....&lt;br /&gt;and show you how a BLACK woman with CLASS handles the stupidity that is YOU!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-5425037207141143524?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/5425037207141143524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=5425037207141143524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5425037207141143524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/5425037207141143524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/she-must-not-know-about-me.html' title='she must not know about me....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0ImJ-ghdI/AAAAAAAAABc/WX0RN4YZrsk/s72-c/GroupofWomen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6353592025972189182</id><published>2008-07-02T11:34:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T09:44:06.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As much as I tried...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0B0M-QFBI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qtTkwgSCuAs/s1600-h/prayer114.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218829539539424274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0B0M-QFBI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qtTkwgSCuAs/s320/prayer114.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: Blessed Category: Blessed &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=21"&gt;Religion and Philosophy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I tried to run away from you, to find joy in other things...I could never deny my first love.&lt;br /&gt;But now, I'm no longer running from you - you gave me no choice. You loved me when I didn't know I was worth loving..you showed me my beauty - you saw the best in me - even when I couldn't see it in myself.&lt;br /&gt;So - I'm pretty sure I'm done running from you - I've accepted that you'll always have a permanent place in my heart and I know that I have to change to be the person you need me to be.&lt;br /&gt;I've come to that state of ultimate realization...I can't hide for you anymore. You make me see myself for what I really am. That's why I'm scared of you sometimes. And even when you reprove me you do it in such in tender, caring way, that it makes me feel guilty for running in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;and it brings me back to you...&lt;br /&gt;all of this time I thought the quarter life crises I was going thought I was going through was just a part of life - I never realized that it was b/c i didn't have you anymore...at least we weren't tight like we used to be and I wasn't relying on you to be my...everything..&lt;br /&gt;But now, i'm here, I can't dodge this thing anymore -this love thing, this real thing, this true live connection thing - that i share with you and no one else.&lt;br /&gt;You're the one who had my back when no one else did, and protected me even when I didn't realize that I was under attack...words cannot express the way I feel...&lt;br /&gt;so i guess I'll keep typing until what I say matches up with this butterflying feeling on the inside of the gut of my stomach...&lt;br /&gt;so this is what revelation feels like? it's scary, but exciting - to know that I can't live without you and before it sounded so corny and cliche - but now I know that I can never leave my first love...&lt;br /&gt;so I'm right back where I belong - in your arms where I have the peace that surpasses all understanding. Thank you for keeping me through this and showing me that all roads lead back to you.....&lt;br /&gt;amen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6353592025972189182?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6353592025972189182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6353592025972189182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6353592025972189182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6353592025972189182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/as-much-as-i-tried.html' title='As much as I tried...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0B0M-QFBI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qtTkwgSCuAs/s72-c/prayer114.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-7550369191724956006</id><published>2008-07-02T11:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:47:45.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i think i could...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QvroPjwI/AAAAAAAAACk/cldLZyguU9g/s1600-h/sadness_by_zeliss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218845954543685378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QvroPjwI/AAAAAAAAACk/cldLZyguU9g/s320/sadness_by_zeliss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: refreshed Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=12"&gt;Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I look into those brown eyes every morning?&lt;br /&gt;i think i could&lt;br /&gt;b/c at least with you, i know that despite whatever's going on outside or around - you will always take care of me&lt;br /&gt;just like i wanna take care of you and be that wifey type that prays with you each Sunday - shoot, everyday...and kisses you on your nose and eyelids each night - shoot, and every morning...&lt;br /&gt;Could I see myself as your other half?&lt;br /&gt;i think i could&lt;br /&gt;b/c you know the delicate thin line between being firm and gentle with me and you know which ways to push me and when to tell me to stop and how to motivate me; even when you need motivating yourself&lt;br /&gt;just like i yearn to push you into higher heights and deeper depths and be that down chick who's sweet and loving but gets sassy with you when you try to act like you don't have no sense&lt;br /&gt;Could i love you for the rest of my life?&lt;br /&gt;i think i could&lt;br /&gt;b/c you love hard and passionately, and i know that you would do whatever it was in your power to make me happy&lt;br /&gt;just like i would do the same for you b/c when you hurt, I feel your pain and I just want to take it all away from you&lt;br /&gt;it's not that I think it, it's really that I know what a life would be like with you&lt;br /&gt;i know how it feels to lay in your arms and talk about everything and nothing&lt;br /&gt;and i know what its like for you to complete my thoughts with a kiss and&lt;br /&gt;how it feels to really be my self, goofy and happy and joking and love how it&lt;br /&gt;feels to know that you get me and laugh too even when i say the craziest things&lt;br /&gt;at the most inopportune time and how i stick to my guns on things even when my&lt;br /&gt;body tries to betray me and how you don't ever, haven't ever pushed me to do anything&lt;br /&gt;that I don't want to do and i just love the way you make me feel and the way I feel when i'm&lt;br /&gt;with you sorta like everything is just going to be okay or more like its just you and I that exist&lt;br /&gt;in the world and it don't really matter what goes on as long as I can be with you - who cares&lt;br /&gt;you just make me feel so good inside and outside that i don't really care what&lt;br /&gt;happens as long as I can&lt;br /&gt;wake up to you every morning&lt;br /&gt;i think i could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-7550369191724956006?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/7550369191724956006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=7550369191724956006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7550369191724956006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/7550369191724956006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-think-i-could.html' title='i think i could...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QvroPjwI/AAAAAAAAACk/cldLZyguU9g/s72-c/sadness_by_zeliss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-4484418449759628070</id><published>2008-07-02T11:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:46:53.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QiGdMKFI/AAAAAAAAACc/GivaHZdKRKw/s1600-h/blackloveart11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218845721226913874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QiGdMKFI/AAAAAAAAACc/GivaHZdKRKw/s320/blackloveart11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: thoughtful Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=13"&gt;Romance and Relationships&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEE AAA BEE WHY&lt;br /&gt;I just can't seem to get over the way you make me feel inside and everytime I try to pretend this feeling isn't real I'm reminded why I care about my&lt;br /&gt;BEE AAA BEE WHY&lt;br /&gt;so much because you fill an empty place and I didn't know existed&lt;br /&gt;I never saw this empty space until my&lt;br /&gt;BEE AAA BEE WHY&lt;br /&gt;loved me the way I needed to be loved. Suprised to know that you are my&lt;br /&gt;BEE AAA BEE WHY&lt;br /&gt;you make my heart beat faster, my cheeks turn rosy&lt;br /&gt;my voice get higher, my laugh get louder, my&lt;br /&gt;BEE AAA BEE WHY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY WHY WHY....you gotta go and do that love, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-4484418449759628070?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/4484418449759628070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=4484418449759628070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4484418449759628070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/4484418449759628070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/baby.html' title='Baby'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0QiGdMKFI/AAAAAAAAACc/GivaHZdKRKw/s72-c/blackloveart11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-3793732702474589424</id><published>2008-07-02T11:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T11:38:05.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love note...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0RiudlKII/AAAAAAAAACs/z6Fv4W_ZAZc/s1600-h/it__s_love__by_arosenello.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218846831477598338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0RiudlKII/AAAAAAAAACs/z6Fv4W_ZAZc/s320/it__s_love__by_arosenello.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: happy Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=12"&gt;Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can just write me a love note and tell me how you feel. Because that connect between you and me is fueled by the fact that you're Intelligent, Youthful and Adaptable and I'm Determined, Emotional, Passionate and Exciting and together - what you get when you mix that up is a love note from me to you that says simple things like hey. boo. i. miss. you. just. thinking. about. you. you. can. call. if. you. have. some. free. time. when. are. you. coming. through. it's. been. so. long. I. can't. wait. to. see. you.&lt;br /&gt;You can just call me in the middle of the day to say hey when you get a break because that connect between me and you is something that needs to be expressed thru acts. and thru things that don't mean that much to the average jane or joe. sometimes just to say hey. you. I. was. just. thinking. about. you. and. I. decided. to. call. just. to. say. hey. how's. your. day. what. you. working. on. working. hard. or. hardly. working. i. gotta. go. and. get. back. to. what. I. was. doing. have. a. good. day. I'll. call. you. later.&lt;br /&gt;You can just write me a love note....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-3793732702474589424?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/3793732702474589424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=3793732702474589424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3793732702474589424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3793732702474589424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-note.html' title='Love note...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0RiudlKII/AAAAAAAAACs/z6Fv4W_ZAZc/s72-c/it__s_love__by_arosenello.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-2791712911292889592</id><published>2008-07-02T11:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T11:28:47.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Happens...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0aXAldz8I/AAAAAAAAADs/Nylgq7pAFVI/s1600-h/ist2_946311-life-preserver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218856525788729282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0aXAldz8I/AAAAAAAAADs/Nylgq7pAFVI/s320/ist2_946311-life-preserver.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: indescribable Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=13"&gt;Romance and Relationships&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love happens at the craziest times...with the craziest people. And a lot of times there's really nothing you can do to control it. As much as logic tells you that this cannot happen, at least not right now and not with this person, your heart tends to have a mind of it's own. It's own logic..the logic that bascially makes no sense..whatevers the opposite of "right."&lt;br /&gt;At least maybe that's how my heart works...&lt;br /&gt;It tends to find love in the most complicated, unreasonable situations. It finds love in the things that don't quite know how to love themselves. My heart tries to help and nurture it and to allow it to see that they are worth loving..even if its them learning to love themselves. And maybe my heart believes that everything - if its loved properly will eventually realize their full potential.&lt;br /&gt;I mean - Logically - I cannot teach with my love what hasn't been taught to them through life experiences or upbringing. Unless someone really ready to learn....I'm not into "missionary" loving...trying to "save" someone from themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad my heart didn't get the memo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-2791712911292889592?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/2791712911292889592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=2791712911292889592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2791712911292889592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/2791712911292889592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-happens.html' title='Love Happens...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0aXAldz8I/AAAAAAAAADs/Nylgq7pAFVI/s72-c/ist2_946311-life-preserver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6985960972526749570</id><published>2008-07-02T11:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T11:41:12.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0dQajUM4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iqBElPyPeB4/s1600-h/couple_running_mask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218859711034831746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0dQajUM4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iqBElPyPeB4/s320/couple_running_mask.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: content Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=12"&gt;Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had to describe the way I feel about things - this would be the perfect explanation of my emotions...madness coupled with reason...does that make sense?&lt;br /&gt;If you strip away the past and all of the things you've been thru and I've been thru - wouldn't everything be perfect? wouldn't they make sense? but when you add life and complexities to the situation - you get just that...a situation vs. a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of this being a love story, it just becomes an intense, passionate SITUATION...can situations become permanent fixtures? Or does the word itself imply a fleeting desire....&lt;br /&gt;I want to know what this means - but I'm enjoying the confusion :) The chaos of me and you or the lack of me and you is exhilarating...its that storybook torrid affair and we're not on the last chapter yet...which is good b/c I don't wanna know how it ends. I just wanna enjoy being confused with you...making sense of things - being responsible is what I've done for the past 7 years.&lt;br /&gt;and I'm only 23...&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna be reckless and free and chaotic - with you...is that wrong?&lt;br /&gt;I'm only 23....&lt;br /&gt;who wants commitment when you have passion? who wants to meet the family when I've been formally introduced to your soul?&lt;br /&gt;I mean, shoot - I'm only 23...&lt;br /&gt;who wants a ring when I have your wit, your charisma and your laughter? who wants to be responsible when I can just be spontaneous - with you?&lt;br /&gt;what have I got to lose - I'm just 23...&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna get lost in your mind and relish in the fact that I don't understand exactly what I'm doing and why I'm doing it - I just wanna know that I'm doing it - with you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6985960972526749570?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6985960972526749570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6985960972526749570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6985960972526749570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6985960972526749570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/there-is-always-some-madness-in-love.html' title='&quot;There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.&quot;'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0dQajUM4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/iqBElPyPeB4/s72-c/couple_running_mask.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-8608992810900539251</id><published>2008-07-02T11:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T11:07:08.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0VRz6UzlI/AAAAAAAAADU/cuuXTIIlA-0/s1600-h/pencil-paper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218850938929073746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0VRz6UzlI/AAAAAAAAADU/cuuXTIIlA-0/s320/pencil-paper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: creative Category: &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=2"&gt;Blogging&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me wanna write..want to say things I've never said before in a way I've never said them&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why - I've never done this type of thing before..&lt;br /&gt;sure I've been inspired&lt;br /&gt;but not like this&lt;br /&gt;it's at times when I start to think about you and what you've brought into my life...&lt;br /&gt;laughter; friendship; and someone who i can talk to about everything&lt;br /&gt;it just makes me wanna write&lt;br /&gt;and write&lt;br /&gt;until my fingers fall off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for being my muse....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~E~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-8608992810900539251?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/8608992810900539251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=8608992810900539251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8608992810900539251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8608992810900539251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/inspiration.html' title='Inspiration...'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0VRz6UzlI/AAAAAAAAADU/cuuXTIIlA-0/s72-c/pencil-paper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-8188208670884943525</id><published>2008-07-02T11:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:57:15.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing me by so quickly....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0S9wzUuoI/AAAAAAAAADE/EBaic-0Nj4I/s1600-h/Confident_by_BitterGrapes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218848395473762946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0S9wzUuoI/AAAAAAAAADE/EBaic-0Nj4I/s320/Confident_by_BitterGrapes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So..LIFE - is coming at me at WARP speed - I mean, WHERE IS THE TIME GOING?? When did we become adults?&lt;br /&gt;I swear - people keep trying to make me 24 - but dangnit - my birthday's NOT for another month...so stop trying to age me, lol...&lt;br /&gt;The other day - I looked at one of my mentee's myspace page and it had some provocative lyrics on it...so I saw him and I was like, "I'm going to beat you for having those grown lyrics on your page" and he was like, "E - I'm 19 years old" and I was like, "HUH??? WHATT??? When the heck did this happen????!!!!" I could've sworn this dude was still in high school - but no...he was seriously grown, with a job and I was utterly confused and baffled as to WHEN this all happened?&lt;br /&gt;I mean - my baby sister is daggone 20 years old now!! She's talking about grad school! WHAT?? When did she become an adult???&lt;br /&gt;And my other mentee is like writing poems about men breaking her heart!?? When did she get a heart? When did she get a MAN!?!?&lt;br /&gt;When did I become a "mentor??" When did I start caring about elections and taxes? I mean, YES, I was a political science major...but all of that wasn't real - Like I really care now b/c my pockets and my life are affected. And since when did I care about people's feelings - so much so that I wanted to DO something to help improve their quality of life...just so they would be happier and realize their dreams and goals?&lt;br /&gt;and why can't I stop loving people? even when I really really really want to?&lt;br /&gt;when did I become heath conscious?&lt;br /&gt;when did my parents become my "friends?"&lt;br /&gt;when did my friends become my brothers and sisters? Why do I love them like we were blood relatives?? why would I fight for them if someone/something ever tried to harm them??&lt;br /&gt;when did I start working on cases that would change people's lives - and when did I start traveling for work - who in the heck gave me a business expense account or a corporate visa??&lt;br /&gt;when did I start thinking about what I said before I said it...when I did start forgiving those who hurt me in the past?&lt;br /&gt;how come looks and dress aren't the only things that appeal to me any more?&lt;br /&gt;when did I start looking past the package and into the heart of a man?&lt;br /&gt;when did I realize that "cool" people are really the "wack" people and the "quirky" people are really the "cool" ones??&lt;br /&gt;when did I realize that writing helped me to express the feelings in etched in the corner of my heart?&lt;br /&gt;when did I figure out that dancing is a necessary release and music is a passion that will never be quenched?&lt;br /&gt;who told me that the greatest person in the world is one who's responsible with their feelings and the feelings of others?when did I become a woman, instead of a girl - where did college go and how come I didn't realize that I was in the real world - until just now??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-8188208670884943525?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/8188208670884943525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=8188208670884943525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8188208670884943525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/8188208670884943525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/passing-me-by-so-quickly.html' title='Passing me by so quickly....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0S9wzUuoI/AAAAAAAAADE/EBaic-0Nj4I/s72-c/Confident_by_BitterGrapes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-6556575312530387123</id><published>2008-07-02T11:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T11:30:58.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ummmm...yeah....</title><content type='html'>Current mood: confused&lt;br /&gt;trying to be so sure is the hardest part.  i can't tell if i'm making the right decision, going in the right direction - many parts of me scream that this is right so perfect so true...other parts say hold on you can't make this decision so fast. many tell me you are all wrong and other say you are so right.  pop-ups from the past, flashbacks of easy street but the street wasn't so easy for me to navigate b/c i'm here right now, aren't i? i keep trying to ask for the answers and all you do is give me questions so i ask more and more and i keep getting more questions on top of questions on top of uneasiness, mixed with pollution and then it's shaken with doubt and uncertainty of who i should be....with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;confusion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-6556575312530387123?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/6556575312530387123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=6556575312530387123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6556575312530387123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/6556575312530387123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/ummmmyeah.html' title='ummmm...yeah....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-3995160026630180957</id><published>2008-07-02T11:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:13:45.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0IwtYj7OI/AAAAAAAAABk/fxhwi3o84nc/s1600-h/wak2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218837176101629154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0IwtYj7OI/AAAAAAAAABk/fxhwi3o84nc/s320/wak2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Current mood: creative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good enough to be a "wifey," refined enough to take to your company Christmas party, down enough to be with you - even if you're on the "come up," bourgie enough that you'll learn something new when you hang out, fly enough to be on your arm if you're trying to impress someone, caring enough to pray you through your hardest times, fun enough to make your boyz laugh, sweet enough to do and say those extra things to make a man smile, cool enough to be your best friend, social enough to know what's what and who's who, chill enough to know that most of the time that stuff doesn't even matter, connected enough to make her net "work," educated enough to get any job she wants, pretty enough to accentuate her beauty, intelligent enough to know how to showcase where her REAL value lies, spunky enough to not back down from you, perceptive enough to know when it's time to shut up, exposed enough to cry in front of you, brave enough to have your back, supportive enough to take care of business – whether you ask for it or not, tough enough to let you fall a little bit if it means you're going to learn a valuable lesson, respectful enough to introduce to your moms, sassy enough to get along with your sister, soft enough to smile "just because," girly enough to write in pink bubble letters, independent enough to know that she doesn't NEED you, vulnerable enough to see that she'd rather not be without you.... I am "THAT" girl :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-3995160026630180957?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/3995160026630180957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=3995160026630180957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3995160026630180957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/3995160026630180957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/enough.html' title='Enough....'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0IwtYj7OI/AAAAAAAAABk/fxhwi3o84nc/s72-c/wak2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4720360260515956362.post-824503313699469251</id><published>2008-07-02T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T09:46:20.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it.was.all.a.dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0CUzgLuYI/AAAAAAAAAA4/l8SgwDBpQJE/s1600-h/1395562265_15bac5c815.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218830099638106498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0CUzgLuYI/AAAAAAAAAA4/l8SgwDBpQJE/s320/1395562265_15bac5c815.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Current mood: confused &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Category: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.viewCategory&amp;amp;FriendID=68278689&amp;amp;BlogCategoryID=13"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Romance and Relationships&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I kept trying to find you…I searched for you everywhere. It wasn't much I was looking for, just someone who showed that they cared…..&lt;br /&gt;A little bit about me, what I was trying to say, showed appreciation when I listened, was excited that I prayed&lt;br /&gt;For you last night when you were going through something, provided a listening ear, when you felt like venting.&lt;br /&gt;About all of the BS you were going through at work, laughed and agreed when you said your boss was a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;For not understanding that the traffic was bad that day and threatened to write you up, but this time you would receive a warning…at least that day –&lt;br /&gt;I kept searching for you and I knew you weren't that complicated – just an average guy who called when he stated…showed a bit of something that's been lacking in all of the others, a powerful thing called follow through – it wasn't until my adulthood that I realized how important…&lt;br /&gt;It was for someone to call when they said they would, someone to be there when they should, someone to actually set expectation and meet me there…someone to be committed – dang…that's rare?&lt;br /&gt;You knew I didn't care if you were struggling to realize that dream your parents deferred, I didn't care if you looked like Tyrese or Tyson Beckford…if you were struggling to lose that last 20 lbs, I didn't matter to me…because my attraction, my love for you would be more than skin deep.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I knew you would love me in spite of all of my flaws…my imperfections, my bad days…&lt;br /&gt;Some say my mouths too big and I say too much how I feel – and my hairs to nappy, my thoughts too real….my hips are too big, my attitude to quirky….my fantasies too grandiose…my reality – too murky.&lt;br /&gt;I figured if could just find you, you'd get it…find my imperfections endearing – my honesty refreshing…but I just couldn't see where you were…&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I tried to talk to someone who was older – I thought maybe you were with him. Figured he be more mature – know exactly what he was looking for. Found out he was just as immature as the 20-something I dealt with before.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe your with this guy who is completely different that me…polar opposites of the spectrum, I'm A….he's Z. Guess what they say is true, opposites attract…but they don't stay together – too much ying and yang, so….hmm, that's that.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I found you again, this time, he was my friend. But what starts out as friendship, doesn't sustain was you bring in the L word to the equation.&lt;br /&gt;Finally….I found you, yesterday – it was so unexpected. I couldn't believe FINALLY – here he is…I closed my eyes – and I realized that I was dreaming. You exist in my mind and you haven't yet manifested in reality….it's frustrating that I haven't been able to see what I know is so real. B/c I know there's something more to this…something tangible, something factual.&lt;br /&gt;You told me all you wanted to do was to see inside my soul, not get into my clothes&lt;br /&gt;Just get lost inside some conversation about what the future holds&lt;br /&gt;For me and you and it doesn't matter if I wanted to move slow, it was my mind, my spirit, you were trying to get to know….&lt;br /&gt;You wanted to send me notes in the morning before I headed off to work&lt;br /&gt;Be that person who came through, shoulder to lean on, give support.&lt;br /&gt;You said you wanted to ask me why I did and said the things that I do, understand, listen..know who I was entirely…through and through.&lt;br /&gt;I was amazed when you said you would endure the arguments, the tough times and stay there when things weren't rosy.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my shock when you told me what I was asking for wasn't too much…what I expected didn't make you back down. The things that attracted you to me were the things that would keep you around…you wouldn't resent me when I pushed you to higher ground.&lt;br /&gt;That I motivated you to be a better man, that somehow you knew this was a part of God's perfect plan. You didn't find my brand of humor goofy or childish….you chuckled when I watched the Disney channel – you encouraged my keyboard wackness…&lt;br /&gt;Inside jokes, pet names, laughter and humor…our love is this type of thing that brings the sunshine out – I can't believe you see it that same way I do…&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to open my eyes and see that you aren't true, right now…I just want to dream about you sweeping me off my feet, not that you might not show up when I'm not sleep.&lt;br /&gt;When I meet you here, in a sea of dreams – everything is possible. I know I can do it on my own, but shoot – its much easier being taken care of inside this dream world, not worrying about let down after let down, not wondering if they'll finally get it right.&lt;br /&gt;So…for tonight, I won't worry about the fact that I haven't seen you on this side of my eyelids…&lt;br /&gt;I'll just go back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;And let&lt;br /&gt;My dreams reinforce that fact I KNOW you're real&lt;br /&gt;You just haven't manifested&lt;br /&gt;Quite yet&lt;br /&gt;Outside of my dreams…&lt;br /&gt;Night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4720360260515956362-824503313699469251?l=epizzle04.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/feeds/824503313699469251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4720360260515956362&amp;postID=824503313699469251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/824503313699469251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4720360260515956362/posts/default/824503313699469251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://epizzle04.blogspot.com/2008/07/current-mood-confused-category-romance.html' title='it.was.all.a.dream'/><author><name>E. "Bluntastic" Pizzler, the Fourth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02902849861935950828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SGwyTdH1trI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qZz1-tfLAUo/S220/211712184453_0_0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MvVs2dU8Ezc/SG0CUzgLuYI/AAAAAAAAAA4/l8SgwDBpQJE/s72-c/1395562265_15bac5c815.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
