<?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-736678387781781119</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:40:43.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ROXY MOTION</title><subtitle type='html'>Kind of a wishlist. Kind of an elongated whine. Kind of arrogant and bitchy and insecure and observing and it's all totally okay. It's just life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8129258684074772047</id><published>2010-06-19T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T11:23:18.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Does anybody still read this thing?</title><content type='html'>Hi, my name is Roxy and i'm a high school graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK YEAHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been like a YEAR, literally, since i've posted on this thing. i'm not really sure why. i think i kind of forgot about it, in the haze of my physical therapy and trying to finish school, which was MURDER. oh, yeah. i spent senior year in online school. and holy mother of god, i hated it. i hated every goddamn second of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's over now, i'm never going to high school ever again, and i have all summer to figure out what to do with my settlement money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm getting paid a whole shitload of money because the accident i had last year wasn't my fault. go me! i can't believe i'm actually HAPPY that i got all crushed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at least i didn't die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OTHER NEWS ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cambria and christian are getting married. after they graduate college, that is, but they're engaged right now. they're going to a christian school, naturally. next thing i know, they'll be moving into an amish colony or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and jake and i are together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, EITHER. i think about it and i almost pass out, sometimes. like, we're not BOYFRIEND &amp;amp; GIRLFRIEND or anything, but it's more of a BFWB sort of a thing. i don't know. it's crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god. i was rereading my old posts and i was just ... it was surreal. i can't believe myself and how everything has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yes, we totally did it, in case you were wondering. more than once. it's probably going to happen again tonight. and more times on the road trip we're taking this summer. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm happy. cambria doesn't really approve, though. she still is all on that waiting until marriage kick thing and is all, OMG SIN!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, not EXACTLY. but kind of. she should be happy for me, i think. but she doesn't seem to be, so honestly, i don't really care what she thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear i'm not one of those girls who is choosing a guy over everyone else in their life. i'm not. i'm still friends with everyone, you know (probably alan especially), but cambria is just making things REALLY FUCKING HARD. (that's what she said. just kidding.) she doesn't have a problem with jake and me being together -- she said she's been waiting for this for years. her problem is that we're SEXUALLY INVOLVED, as she puts it. it seems to me that HER relationship is the dysfunctional one. i mean, she and chris have been together for something like two or three years, and they still haven't done it? and they're getting married in FOUR YEARS and they think they're going to hold out that long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU SERIOUS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i just sound like a slut. but jake was my first time. he said i was his, too, but i have no way of knowing if that's true or not, since guys are traditionally more slutty than girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be honest, i really don't care if i was his first or his third or his tenth. i just ... i like being with him, and i'm happy, and i feel good these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so are you guys still around? i'd love to talk to you again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;roxy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8129258684074772047?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8129258684074772047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8129258684074772047' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8129258684074772047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8129258684074772047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2010/06/does-anybody-still-read-this-thing.html' title='Does anybody still read this thing?'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-257874409160481523</id><published>2009-07-10T21:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T22:01:04.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HEYYY!</title><content type='html'>it's me, baby! i'm back!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;god, i can't believe it's been over TWO months since i've posted here. and i've missed it like crazy. you have no idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, obviously cam told you about my little run-in with a brick wall. NOT FUN. i spent eons in the hospital, and then i got to come home, and i'm still having to do some physical therapy. it sucks so much... but at least i'm alive. and i feel so... restless or something. i am going to be 18 after all, this month. so. yay me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've missed you guys! thanks so much for the comments. you guys are the greatest and i love you like crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hit me up on aim/msn sometime? roxymotion/roxymotion@live.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND now i have a tumblr! roxymotion.tumblr.com &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pretty excited. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'll get to leaving some comments soon. now it's off to bed for me. it's late and i'm tired. posts soon.&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;xoxox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;ROXY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-257874409160481523?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/257874409160481523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=257874409160481523' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/257874409160481523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/257874409160481523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/07/heyyy.html' title='HEYYY!'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5925816140930236366</id><published>2009-05-15T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T10:41:03.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi.</title><content type='html'>This is Cambria. You might have heard about me. :P&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I just wanted to tell you all that Roxy got in a car accident a couple weeks ago. that's why she hasn't posted in a while. She's coming home tomorrow. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she's been in the hospital since the accident. See, she was driving, and a car swerved over in her lane all of a sudden and sent the car spinning into a light pole, then a concrete wall. she was hurt pretty bad (why she was in the hospital so long). Jake (you probably know about him too) was in the car, too, and since his side didn't hit the pole or wall, he wasn't really hurt. just a few minor (super, super minor, like gone in a few days minor) scratches and bruises. it probably wouldn't have been as bad if the other driver had been in a smaller car. see, Roxy drives this tiny little car (you should have seen it. it used to be so cute, before it got totaled), and the other driver was in this gargantuan SUV. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, today she mentions her blog and so I told her I'd put up a post for her. I might have to put up a few more because her left hand is broken and her right one is sprained and majorly bruised, and basically unusable. also her left arm and leg are broken in several places. then there were internal injuries, and others, because she hit her head, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, to wrap this up, she's doing better, although she's still pretty bad. but we're all so, so happy she's coming home!!! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xoxo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cambria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-5925816140930236366?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5925816140930236366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5925816140930236366' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5925816140930236366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5925816140930236366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/05/hi.html' title='Hi.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2383314064467534851</id><published>2009-04-25T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T14:17:10.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.</title><content type='html'>so, my cousin, carley, and i had a bet.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not going to say what the bet was, but if she lost, she had to make some online accounts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because carley is not what you would call wired in. far from it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so. she lost. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and her blog url is palsessi.blogspot.com, same for twitter and myspace (username: palsessi, that is). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;love you all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;long, juicy post coming soon. i promise!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;roxy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/736678387781781119-2383314064467534851?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2383314064467534851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2383314064467534851' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2383314064467534851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2383314064467534851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/04/yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.html' title='YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8700037306248683991</id><published>2009-04-11T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T12:02:27.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>color quiz results.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;i found a link to this quiz on someone's blog, so, of course i had to take it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it seems somewhat accurate (albeit being described on the site as "very accurate" ... exaggerated advertising strikes again!)... i don't know. TRUE OR NOT?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(i posted the results below so there would be no need for links or anything.)&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Free personality analysis of &lt;strong&gt;roxy&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;Generated on Sat, 11 Apr 2009 12:00:05 -0700&lt;h3&gt;roxy's Existing Situation&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;"Is sensitive and easily influenced by other's thoughts and emotions. Looking for friendly, easy-going relationships and jobs that help develop them."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;roxy's Stress Sources&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;"Needs to meet people who have the same high principals and values as himself, but finds the need unfulfilled. her need to feel dominate and superior leaves her feeling isolated and does not allow for her to give freely of himself. she would like to surrender and let go, but sees that as a weakness she must not give in to. Holding back will allow her to stand out for the crowd and earn a higher status, recognized by others as unique and important."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;roxy's Restrained Characteristics&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;Current events leave her feeling forced into compromise in order to avoid being cut off from affection or future cooperation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;Has strong emotional demands and is picky when it comes to choosing a partner. she chooses to remain emotionally distant and uninvolved in relationships.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;"Although she is able to find contentment through sexual activity, she feels hopeless to change her problems and difficulties and continues to make the best of what she has."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;"Struggles to make her demands clear, but feels ignored. Feels resentful, but acts as if she doesn't care, doing what is necessary to keep peace."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;Current events leave her feeling forced into compromise in order to avoid being cut off from affection or future cooperation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;roxy's Desired Objective&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;Seeks to be known for something she has accomplished and uses her social abilities to win people over. Emotional and sensitive and romantic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;roxy's Actual Problem&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 30px; "&gt;"Impressed by unique and one of a kind things, and by people with exceptional personalities. Tries to takes the characteristics she likes in other people and apply it to herself as well as coming across as a unique individual."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--End ColorQuiz.com code--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8700037306248683991?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8700037306248683991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8700037306248683991' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8700037306248683991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8700037306248683991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/04/roxy-took-free-colorquiz.html' title='color quiz results.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2684404209675917372</id><published>2009-04-10T23:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T23:22:07.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>post #50! dance with me, baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMzk*MzA4NDI4OTQmcHQ9MTIzOTQzMDg1NTU2NiZwPTEzMDIyMSZkPW15c3BhY2VidWxsZXRpbiZnPTEmdD*mbz*5MTMzYzhjZmQ3OTY*ZmIxYTVlN2M*NjlkNDgzYzY3YQ==.gif" /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Take this survey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's your favorite color gummy bear?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;orange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the sexiest part of the opposite sex's body?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um. face. (cliched, i know, but he's got to have an amazing smile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Have you ever made up/sang a song for someone you cared about?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pahaha. i can't write poetry/songs. but my friends and i have sang to each other as jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ever had a song sang about/for you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-thinks- actually, yes. (landon; that "far away" song by nickelback)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is there a baby in the room with you right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pahaha. there isn't even a baby DOLL in this whole house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you know how to dance?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like to think so. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where do you sing the most, in the car, the shower or other?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sing. shower. onstage. um. in my room. to my kitkat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your favorite thing that is green?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my limegreen sharpie! lol. um. i have a ring with a green stone in it that i wear a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What did your last text message say?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"that's the shittiest excuse i've ever heard"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Boxers, briefs or boxer briefs?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhhh. i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is your middle name?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it starts with a J and it's five letters long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is the way to your heart?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do you smell like?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, i guess my shampoo, which has a fruity smell, since i just got out of the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's in your pocket?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pajama pants are pocketless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anything in your mouth?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tongue. teeth. gums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ever hurt yourself playing Wii?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pahaha. no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have freckles?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have five exactly. two are on my legs, two are on my stomach and one on my arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;How many languages can you say "Hello" in?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um. hello. hola. howdy. ciao. bonjour. five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the last movie you saw in the theater?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly? right now i don't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ever jumped/fallen/been pushed in a pool with your clothes on?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohhh yes. good times. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you wearing any clothes that you wore yesterday?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;negative. it's kind of gross to put on what you were wearing BEFORE you took a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Name a song that you know all the words to:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most/all anberlin, fm static, flyleaf, fall out boy, avril lavigne, and green day songs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you in love with someone right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pahaha. um. no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the last thing you watched on TV?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an at&amp;amp;t commercial&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's the last video game you played?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guitar hero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who is your daddy and what does he do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my daddy is my father. he's partially responsible for me being here. he works a job most of the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can you do the alphabet in sign language?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you have an unkle named Joe?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"unkle," you say? i don't have such a thing. as for unCles, no, i don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What word do you use when people pass gas?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"awwwww shiiiiiiiiiiit" ... pahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you wear glasses?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What can you hear right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;commercial on the radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Did you feel better or worse or the same yesterday?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i'm a freakin' zombie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ever been overseas?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are your plans for today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saturday... sleep in, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;How long have you had MySpace?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was your favorite childhood show?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bill nye the science guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you close to your siblings?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm closer to my brother than i am to my sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was your first job?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first job? president of the roxy lemonade company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you bite your nails?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when they break&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you like your feet?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;super gay, fetishy freakish question. i don't know. i suppose. feet are feet are feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you sleep well at night?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more or less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.surveydumpster.com/takesurvey.php?id=940"&gt;CLICK HERE TO TAKE THIS SURVEY!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2684404209675917372?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2684404209675917372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2684404209675917372' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2684404209675917372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2684404209675917372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/04/post-50-dance-with-me-baby_10.html' title='post #50! dance with me, baby!'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2870463757132107410</id><published>2009-04-06T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T17:52:00.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>normally, i'd write this post later on, but there's nothing else to do, so why not?</title><content type='html'>got back from the hill about five minutes ago. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;jake roxy is extremely protective of his little kitty tail. he'll be all happy and purring and such, just sitting there, but if you touch his tail (i mean touch with your finger, not pull or anything), he'll hiss at you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND HE'S GOT THE CUTEST DAMN HISS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then he might shake his paw at me, depending on his mood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyways. my "date" with landon. it wasn't really a date; it was simply two friends going out to chat and catch up on old times and .... nobody wants to hear that bullshit. okay. well, actually we wound up making out for a while and then we did it in the backseat of his car and now i think i might be pregnant and ... oh, wait, none of that is true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOTCHA. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, i got there first, but he wasn't there, so i went in the bathroom and made sure my hair looked okay. (which it did. saturday was an awesome hair day.) when i came out, he was there, looking at a coffee display. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he looks pretty much the same as he used to, except he might be a little bit taller. he's definitely more muscular, and i don't know what happened to his eyes, but... wow. i definitely don't remember them being that blue. or, well, piercing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i remember he's always had a gorgeous smile. i mean, he still does have that, but his eyes are freakin' hypnotic now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'll just be succinct and say he got hotter, somehow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but that sounds too crass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MOVING ON. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"roxy?" he says, like he's not sure who i am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"hi," i say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he smiles. "you look great."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"you do too."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LIE LIE LIE. he looks amazing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, then we walk up to the counter, and order our drinks and take them over to this little table in the corner by a big window. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he said he wasn't sure i'd show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i asked him why. i mean, seriously. i was the one who called HIM. why wouldn't i show?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or is that code for "i was kind of hoping you wouldn't show so i could get my decaf mango/papaya/banana/vanilla/caramel/cinnamon mocha with skim milk, hold the whipped cream, with a cherry on top and go home in peace"? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(i don't know if such an atrocious drink really exists. but i swear, it took the guy in front of us a full minute to describe what he wanted. at least.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he said he didn't know. then he's like, "blah blah, it's been a while, why did you call, blah blah"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(okay, so he wasn't THAT blase about it. or even rude.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i said he'd just popped into my head (i conveniently left out the part about wc's tag, and my blog... god only knows, he might try to read it or something. not that i care.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i asked him why we'd broken up... i honestly can't remember, really. he said he doesn't remember either. he also asked me if i'd been dating anyone. i said no. which is true, really,  but he doesn't have to know about all of my little crushes and such. he had one girlfriend, named either alexandra or alexandria. not sure which. i think i might actually know his girlfriend... unless i'm thinking of the wrong alexandr[i]a, because i sure as hell haven't seen landon ANYWHERE since we broke up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but he and this alex girl are broken up now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;perfect timing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not that i'm looking to get back together with him. at least i don't think so. not yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so we talked for a while about random shit and all... then we left. i went home, and alan texted me and suggested we go out to the hill. so we did. we ate big macs (more like big macstake) and talked about nothing. i told him about landon (turns out, he knows landon and thinks he's a good person) and he said to just let whatever happens happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we figured out that we'd met sometime a while ago, when landon and i were dating. just in passing... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HA. and to think we'd wind up friends all this time later by chance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sunday = boring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today = equally boring. yay for spring break. the other family are coming here soon and i really, really, really don't want that to happen. ugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because it's not like i can go run off to hang out with my friends. (i don't know what jake's doing, but i know c&amp;amp;c are going off to do something with the church... evangelizing the lost or something. who knows. thankfully, my dad thought it was ridiculous (i'm not sure why he's even going to this church... he and i are basically of the same opinion as far as church goes, more or less) and my mother thought it was unnecessary, and rude, since the dear lord only knows what the family would think of us if i went away while family are here. fuck it. alan's staying here, i know, which is good for me.) my mother would make me take joolz with me. carley and ryan i don't really mind, because they're good people, but joolz... well, i guess she can always babysit mandy. watch me not give a fuck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shit, this is long... well, i'm going to go... find a snack or something. i wonder if carley still has the pink in her hair. maybe this time we can go get snakebites. pahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;roxy&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/736678387781781119-2870463757132107410?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2870463757132107410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2870463757132107410' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2870463757132107410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2870463757132107410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/04/normally-id-write-this-post-later-on.html' title='normally, i&apos;d write this post later on, but there&apos;s nothing else to do, so why not?'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-7019725698223789727</id><published>2009-04-02T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:52:14.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just fine and dandy</title><content type='html'>so... um. well, i found landon's number.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i held onto it for a few days, debating on whether or not to call him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then i threw his number away. i said, "fuck it, he's part of my past, let it go, roxy."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then i fished his number out of the trashcan and dialed it before i could change my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then i realized that i still knew his number by heart, because i didn't even look at the paper as i was punching the buttons on my phone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was really worried that he didn't have the same number, because i remember that he changed his number, like, three times when we were dating. (i'm not sure why. i think he switched services and they gave him different numbers.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT HE ANSWERED.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"hi," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"hi," i said. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;silence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"this is roxy," i said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"i know," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was surprised, because i hadn't even been smart enough to say, "hi, this is roxy," when he picked up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"you do?" i said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"yeah," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"how?" i said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"i recognized your voice."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OF COURSE HE DID. i've never been good at recognizing people's voices on the phone. i always have to ask who's calling, if caller id doesn't show it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"um," i say, because i'm just that articulate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he laughs. "what's up? it's been a while."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"yeah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;looking back, i'm thinking this must be the worst case of nerves EVER. if there's one thing i can do, it's talk (ask anyone who knows me), and i've never been a shy kid or stricken dumb with stage fright. yet there i was, acting like my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth with peanut butter. (why does peanut butter do that, anyway?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"how have you been?" he says.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"pretty good," i say. "you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"not bad."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and we're silent again. i used to spend HOURS talking to this guy... online, in person, on the phone... and now we have nothing to say to each other?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"you know, it's weird that you call," he says. "i was just thinking about you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"really?" i say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have a feeling that he's lying to make me feel better or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"all good things, i hope," i continue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he laughs. "you know i always think good things about you, z."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then i felt better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;landon has always had a million nicknames for me: rox (which, surprisingly, very few people ever call me), x (for the x in my name), z (because the "xy" tends to be pronounced like a z), ro (either short for rock on or like row, row, row your boat), RJ (my first and middle initals), JC (my middle and last initials), RC (first and last), etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, long story short, we talked for a while and one thing led to another and we're going out on saturday. to starbucks, around noon or something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm kind of chipper right now. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;roxy.&lt;/span&gt;&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/736678387781781119-7019725698223789727?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/7019725698223789727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=7019725698223789727' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7019725698223789727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7019725698223789727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-fine-and-dandy.html' title='just fine and dandy'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2645760849373129702</id><published>2009-03-29T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T19:18:59.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>47</title><content type='html'>okay, so this is my 47th post. which is, i guess, kind of pathetic since i've had this thing for almost a year, in july. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wandering child is making me do this. um. it's better than other tags i've been forced to do. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;ROXY IN THE EARLY DAYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;i was born just after midnight on july 23, 1991, which makes me a leo by only a few minutes. (i'm very proud of being a leo for some reason. don't ask why.) at first, my mom thought her contractions were indigestion, but my dad was freaking out and insisted on taking her to the hospital. turned out, he was right, and i arrived in the big, wide world a couple of hours later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at age five, i discovered what meat was made of, and i tried vegetarianism. that lasted about three days, when i discovered that the only things i liked eating had meat in them. (for the most part, anyway. you can't live on french fries and cucumber slices.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at school, i was constantly criticized for being the first one to finish my work (which means i was always the first one out on the playground, bitch) and often accused (wrongly, might i add) of cheating. several teachers thought i was gifted, but this isn't true. i'm fast, not smart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i attended only about a month of second grade, due to the fact that i was constantly falling ill or severely injuring myself, so i had to repeat that grade, which was very embarrassing for me at the time, and i often lied about my age. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we moved around a lot until mom discovered she was pregnant with the twins (they were born not long before i turned nine), and we settled in the town i'm in now, although we have changed houses a few times. i met jake the summer before fourth grade at the girl next door's birthday party. he was really only there because his mom and her mom were close friends. i found the party ridiculously boring (it was supposed to be a fantasy ball theme, and it was stupid), and jake and i wound up bonding over a mutual love of baseball and nickelodeon. it turned out that we were in the same class when school started, so we wound up hanging out together a lot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we also went to catholic church (or whatever it's called... mass?) when we lived in jersey, mostly because we lived with my uber-religious great aunt. her house was like a freakin' shrine, and every time the church doors were open, we were there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; "&gt;ROXY IN THE T(W)EEN YEARS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;at twelve, in sixth grade, we met cambria. she's a year younger than jake and me. when i first met her, i must say, i wasn't exactly impressed. she was very quiet and dressed like the cast of barney and friends. (obviously, i was much, much cooler.) we really didn't hit it off until spring break, when jake went off to wherever he went with his family, and cambria and i were left to entertain ourselves. actually, we probably wouldn't have gotten close if our dads hadn't become friends. her dad would drop cambria off at our house while he and my dad went off to go fishing or whatever. anyway, by the end of sixth grade, jake, cambria and i were inseparable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in seventh grade, at thirteen, i got my first boyfriend (who has since moved to colorado or someplace), nathan, who gave me my first kiss. i think we were both too immature, since the next day he was dating some other girl (he was very popular in seventh grade, i might add) and i was rigging his locker to spit a million ping pong balls into the hall when he opened it. i can't believe i got away with that. good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eighth grade, cambria's dad got married (well, remarried, anyway), jake got his first girlfriend (amid much suspicion that i was his girlfriend... some things never change), and i didn't date anyone, having come to the conclusion that all guys were scum (super long story). jake asked me what he was, chopped liver? i said yes, he was. that was also the year i got my first starring role in the school play. what can i say... participation was low, and so they had to lower their standards considerably. it was either me or the loudmouthed bitch who wound up playing my servant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ninth grade, freshman year, was actually pretty tame, free from fabled freshman torture. i started dating landon, whom i consider my first REAL boyfriend (nathan was... experimental, i guess). more on him in a moment. jake's girlfriend (i can't remember her name) moved, and they eventually just stopped talking. cambria's stepmother got religion and made cambria get a promise ring, along with making the family start attending church regularly. cambria complained for a while, until she got religion too (or something... she won't say she got saved or whatever), and then she shut up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in tenth grade, landon and i broke up very amicably, although i went home and cried myself to sleep two nights in a row. come to think of it, i'm still not sure why we broke up. maybe i should give him a call. i'm pretty sure he's still around. i also tried being a vegetarian again, twice. that lasted all of two weeks, collectively. i also worked on the newspaper, debate team (which they disbanded because no one was really interested in it), ran track and was on drama team. i also spent a lot of time helping cambria with yearbook, although i wasn't yearbook staff. (I HATED YEARBOOK.) i also met jade that year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; "&gt;ROXY IN THE PRESENT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;right now, i'm seventeen, a junior, and an extremely sporadic blogger. this past year has been more or less recorded here, so i'm not going to reiterate it entirely. i had a very interesting summer with some extended family, jake dated a girl named kira (very seriously, might i add), cambria started dating a guy named christian, who is also her first boyfriend and fellow promise-ring wearer, and i haven't dated anyone yet. i've become close with alan, who is dating a guy named milo, and jade and i are still friends. i've also started going to cambria's church (TOTALLY not my idea) and youth group, and i'm still in acting and i write an advice column for the school newspaper. that's fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that was more of a rundown of my love life than anything, which is pathetic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm thinking i might give landon a call, though. or at least try... i mean, why not? i haven't thought about him in FOREVER, until this tag thinger... props to WC.&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;roxy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;am i supposed to tag other people? um.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i tag pooks, nicole linette, jemima, alayna whisper, natalie, and rose valentine.&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;the end of the story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2645760849373129702?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2645760849373129702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2645760849373129702' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2645760849373129702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2645760849373129702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/03/47.html' title='47'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-6919655574307036063</id><published>2009-03-25T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:56:05.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and I walked right into school and caught you staring at me</title><content type='html'>i do not like katy perry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but cambria does. and she's been singing/playing "one of the boys" all day and it's stuck in my head now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's not bad. "i kissed a girl" was okay the first few times. after that, it just got annoying, especially with all the media frenzy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GET OVER IT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"hot n cold" was basically the same, without the insane media frenzy ... and "ur so gay" ... well, let's just say that i really hate that song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;moving on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;these past weeks have been ... interesting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i really have no idea where the time goes. you look at the clock, it's around eleven a.m. ... you look again and it's five p.m.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wtf? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;katie came to YG, so i finally got to meet her. she turned out to be an eighth-grader. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she's pretty. blond, blue-eyed. just ... kind of blah. from what i can tell, there's nothing remotely interesting or quirky about her. white bread, cookie-cutter type of person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a circle is more edgy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i like to think i'm more or less an open-minded person. but, really... i mean, katie is twelve. mike is seventeen. and they're dating. it's one of those, "um,  yeah, okay" type of relationships.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and ah... jake and i kissed, for real this time (not my fault, it was all him), and it felt really good but so, so wrong... so wrong. and we had a very long, very awkward conversation and now we're really not speaking to each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i mean, we're friendly, on speaking TERMS and such but not really hanging out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so. yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;last saturday i took a mini road trip with alan and milo over to the next town to visit milo's sister. that was pretty fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;see, this is why i love alan. he's one of the best people i know, he's nice and funny and caring and nothing is ever complicated with him. i mean, it's like he just GETS everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(from what i can tell, milo is pretty much the same way, only he doesn't like anything that alan likes, except football.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nothing is ever a major issue with between us. it's there, it is what it is, we can talk about it and it's okay, either way, and IT'S REALLY ANNOYING THAT I CAN'T HAVE THAT WITH ANYONE ELSE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okay, i didn't realize this was kind of a sore subject with me until i started writing about it. but it's not all bad. except for a few things, this week has been pretty okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in a way, i envy katie. i wish i were back in middle school, when everything was so much less complicated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'd love to have a nice long chat with my younger self... you know, give her a few pointers, tell her a few things to avoid... and a few things to do instead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like, maybe i should have started this blog sooner, and i definitely shouldn't have let cambria try to layer my hair that one time. although, all in all, it really didn't turn out that bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;r o x y m o t i o n ♥&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg align="center" style="color:#EEEEEE;"&gt; &lt;span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;You Are 16% Spoiled&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/areyouspoiledquiz/spoiled-1.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; You are definitely not spoiled. You've worked hard for what you have.&lt;br /&gt; Down to earth and grounded, you don't need a lot to make you happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;so said the personality test, and personality tests are never wrong!&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/736678387781781119-6919655574307036063?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/6919655574307036063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=6919655574307036063' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6919655574307036063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6919655574307036063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-i-walked-right-into-school-and.html' title='and I walked right into school and caught you staring at me'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-202476766363105114</id><published>2009-03-15T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:34:38.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hey, man, tell me, what were you thinking?</title><content type='html'>okay, i'm home now and i can write what i wanted to before, but couldn't with jake looking over my shoulder. and i don't mean jake roxy, who is sitting next to me, punctuating various words with meows.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so glad it's spring break. the only thing is, joolz &amp;amp; co. are coming for a visit. not really looking forward to that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wonder if she's showing yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-evil smile-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm such a mean person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MOVING ON!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;jake and i have been hanging out a lot again, sometimes with alan, sometimes with c&amp;amp;c, sometimes all of us, sometimes just the two of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;actually, a lot of it's just the two of us, now, since alan's sort of, but not really, dating this guy milo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;yes, milo. like milo &amp;amp; otis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but milo is nice. kind of cute. smart. funny. i like him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then there's mike, who i talk to at youth group, but never outside of it or anything. (he goes to another school, so i only have to see him thursday nights and whenever YG does shit.) and it's almost like he gets better looking every time i see him. WHICH IS ANNOYING. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and he's been talking about some girl named katie lately, which is boring. i mean, really. do i care who you know or like? not really. (unless it's me.) do i go around talking about the people i know to you? no, i do not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not THAT mean, exactly. i don't TOTALLY mind listening to people tell me about their friends. but the thing is, i can't tell if he's using her to make me jealous or something (i certainly don't see him talking with other girls at YG) or if he likes her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that's really fucking annoying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but other than that, he's nice. except for when he spouts churchy lingo. like, "what's God been doing for you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"uh, nothing much, really. he's there, i'm here."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"isn't that the truth. he's always there."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"so i've heard."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can't complain, i'm in a church, you expect to hear stuff about God. but i don't think it's fair for my parents to make me attend YG.  when i'm out on my own, i am fully not going to church. i don't like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;moving further along to what i wanted to say before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a couple of nights ago, i kissed jake on the cheek &amp;mdash; well, i was aiming for his cheek, anyway &amp;mdash; and he turned his head and caught half of it on the lips.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was over too quickly for me to tell if he's a good kisser or not. (which i've always been curious about.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then it just got awkward and embarrassing for about five minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then we were talking about something else and more or less forgot about it. well, the awkwardness dissipated, anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i don't know if i actually want to DATE jake. i mean, if he asked me out, in all honesty, i'd probably say yes. but... i think maybe more a FWB type of thing. i mean, what if it all goes south if we date and then break up? and just sort of fade out of each other's lives like kira's doing. it's like she's trying to wean herself off us or vice versa or whatever. but we're not seeing as much of her these days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's been my best friend since we were kids. and i really don't want to lose that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so... i don't what i'll do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if anything. i'm kind of fine with the way it is right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ps. that doesn't mean i'm still not curious about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-202476766363105114?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/202476766363105114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=202476766363105114' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/202476766363105114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/202476766363105114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/03/hey-man-tell-me-what-were-you-thinking.html' title='hey, man, tell me, what were you thinking?'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5432629682492968404</id><published>2009-03-15T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T13:08:37.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>want to be your last first kiss</title><content type='html'>my previous record was 12 comments on a blog post. that was broken by one comment.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cats are apparently a very comment-inducing topic. especially when you are asking for your readership's help naming said cat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;which is named like a celebrity baby. you know, since celebrity kids get stuck with, like, twenty names and all of them are weird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;most of the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, on official documents it says the kitty's name is jake roxy, which nobody likes, but it's my cat and i can name him whatever i want. (jake roxy turned out to be a boy, which was a grave disappointment to me.) so, obviously, i call him that. and it's very hard when i'm trying to scold jake roxy for something (like chewing paper and leaving little saliva-drenched shreds all over the place), because i laugh every time i say "jake roxy" out loud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my mother calls JR felix, after the iconic black &amp;amp; white cartoon cat. my sister calls him spots (which is a really, really lame name, but at least it's better than her previous suggestions of either nick (for nick jonas) or zac (for zac efron) for a boy, or miley (obvious) or ashley (for ashley tisdale) for a girl). my brother's name for jake roxy changes depending on who he's with (case in point: around my mom he calls JR felix, around me he calls him either jake or roxy, etc.). my father had a good laugh over the whole name fiasco and now refers to jake roxy as "your cat", as in, "roxy, will you please come down here and get your cat? he's chewing my newspaper again."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and my father does not appreciate his copy of the new york times being turned into wet confetti, let me tell you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fortunately for me, jake roxy doesn't really chew up anything important. he prefers crumpled paper, mostly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;overall, i think JR has been pretty well-received.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there's more i want to write but i'll have to do it after jake (the original one) leaves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xox&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&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/736678387781781119-5432629682492968404?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5432629682492968404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5432629682492968404' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5432629682492968404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5432629682492968404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/03/want-to-be-your-last-first-kiss.html' title='want to be your last first kiss'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8053079753044614712</id><published>2009-02-27T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T22:03:09.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>guess this means you're sorry</title><content type='html'>you're standing at my door.&lt;br /&gt;guess this means you take back all you said before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am currently in possession of a tiny little kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, kitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;compliments of jake, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was expecting alan to come over (and he left like five minutes ago) and when i heard the doorbell ring, i thought it was him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but no, it's jake, holding a squirming little bundle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"it's for you," he says, and basically leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, this cat is adorable. she (i assume it's a she -- jake didn't think to tell me its gender, apparently)'s got black and white splotches all over, with a few gray ones thrown in. she looks like a rorschach test in cat form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm like, shit, kitty, you are just the cutest thing... unfortunately for me, what am i going to do when nature calls? or you get hungry? i mean, we've got plenty of milk, but not, like, tuna or anything... (that ran out on the old cat)... fortunately for all of us, for some reason, my mom never got rid of the cat bed and litter box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then alan knocks at the back door (which he usually does, so i'm not sure why i thought he'd try coming through the front) and he's holding a bag of cat food and a bag of kitty litter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i get suspicious, like, maybe this was all some sort of scheme the two of them had cooked up... then he asks, "what's with the cat stuff--" and then he sees the cat i'm holding. kitten. this is a tiny, tiny cat -- and he's like, "oh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i ask him if he had anything to do with this, and he says no. i believe him, but, well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah, i'm not going to complain. i was kind of wanting another kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really need to get ahold of jake to find out the cat's gender and if it's had its shots and stuff. otherwise, it will be bye bye, kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although... i mean, what would be the point of giving me a cat that needs to be fixed? that's just stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD THIS CAT IS SO CUTE. she (i'm going to refer to it as she unless i discover differently) seems to find my typing fingers fascinating and alternately stares at them intensely or swipes them with her tiny paws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she seems to be declawed, so i assume she's fixed. maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need help naming this cat... any ideas, people? because i am fully drawing a blank here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks muchly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;roxymotion♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because we belong together now, yeah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;forever united here somehow, yeah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you got a piece of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and honestly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my life would suck without you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8053079753044614712?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8053079753044614712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8053079753044614712' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8053079753044614712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8053079753044614712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/02/guess-this-means-youre-sorry.html' title='guess this means you&apos;re sorry'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8133776619534446211</id><published>2009-02-25T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T16:01:17.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>boom boom boom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i've been tagged by the fabulous &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://theskywhispersinabaritone.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;jemima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;who also gave me the award below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THANK YOU. I feel special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;go read her blog. it's very whimsical and awesome in general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SaXZMBER20I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y5DtQ5KXVHc/s1600-h/blogaward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SaXZMBER20I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y5DtQ5KXVHc/s320/blogaward.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886536394038082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;The rules of this blogging award are to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;1. Link the blog who gave you this award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;2. Give the award to seven other bloggers and link them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;3. Tell them that you have given them an award.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i, roxy motion, award the following seven:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://mindkeepswandering.blogspot.com/"&gt;wandering child&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://justlikeaheadache.blogspot.com/"&gt;cady cep&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://miserybusinessforever.blogspot.com/"&gt;alayna whisper&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://loquaciousnicole.blogspot.com/"&gt;nicole linette&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://apeekintothemindofme.blogspot.com/"&gt;pooks&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://skippy-treesareforhugging.blogspot.com/"&gt;skippy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://x-freeky-disaster-x.blogspot.com/"&gt;helen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:24px;"&gt;now, time for the 4x4 tag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Places I go over and over...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. school. just about every day, there i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. the hill. pretty obvious... a grass carpeting a big mound of dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. blogspot. what can i say... blogs are interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. lalaland... more commonly known as the space roxy goes in her head when she kind of spaces out... maybe roxyland is a better term....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;People who e-mail me regularly:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cambria with all her stupid chain emails... there's a reason i don't pass those on, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. blogger to tell me i have new comments!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. twitter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. IMVU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Favorite Smells:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. lip gloss... especially the fruity kind. i'm such a lip gloss whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. britney spears's "curious" perfume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. cookies baking. nothing better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. roses and jasmine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Places I Would Rather Be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. california.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. with alan on the hill. or maybe with jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. seventh grade history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. on television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;TV Shows I Watch:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. how i met your mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. the loop (bring this show back!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. 30 rock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;The Fourth Picture From My Folder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i542.photobucket.com/albums/gg434/justlikeaheadache/GLAMOROUS.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i'm just going to do what jemima did and give the 4x4 to everyone i awarded the award to. lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;roxymotion♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8133776619534446211?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8133776619534446211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8133776619534446211' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8133776619534446211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8133776619534446211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/02/boom-boom-boom.html' title='boom boom boom'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SaXZMBER20I/AAAAAAAAABw/Y5DtQ5KXVHc/s72-c/blogaward.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-4418177779870692270</id><published>2009-02-24T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T21:51:42.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the best you could hope to be</title><content type='html'>i'm really not in the proper frame of mind to write this post, because i'm kind of upbeat and hyper right now and a lot of shit has gone down this week.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;on a completely unrelated note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know how there are some subjects you just never think about until somebody brings them up. because, as a general rule, you don't sit around wondering if your parents ever feel underappreciated (or whatever), unless it's mothers day or something like that and then you're obligated. anyhow, when someone does bring up the subject, it's like an obnoxious gnat determined to investigate the black hole that is your ear and won't shut up or die. because gnats are too tiny to kill, the bitches. and then, with that subject gnat bugging you, you feel guilty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;which is annoying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okay, i'm in the right frame of mind now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, we all know the end of the j&amp;amp;k saga... they're done, over, toast, kaput, yada yada, and we're all acting like retarded idiots, yada yada (except jade... aka the only sane one, who isn't technically ONE, but hey)...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;jake and i have been hanging out a lot lately. which is really cutting into my time with alan. i wish cambria wasn't with christian so the three of us could be together again and she could listen to him whine while i watch how i met your mother or whatever. but if she and christian broke up, i'd be stuck with two whiny bitches instead of one. i don't know who kira is whining to, but it's not me, which is good, because i'm sick of being in the middle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so... uh... well, last night, jake and i went out on the hill and hung out for a while there. and we almost wound up kissing several times. the first time, i sort of freaked and was like, "holy shit, this grass is cold" ... even though i'd been sitting on it for the past couple of hours. stupid, roxy, stupid... the second time was my doing (brain spasm, like well, i screwed it up the first time, maybe the second time will work) and he's like, "wow, your eyes kind of look like kira's... oh, shit... i mean, ah, wow. how's that story coming?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(i had to write a story for lit class... long story short, i suck at writing, like, majorly. i got jade to help me by bribing her with jelly beans. i know her achilles heel. ;) )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;third time i'm not sure who started it, but then i was like, "oh, hey, you know, i never gave you your notebook back" and he's like, "oh, yeah, right. i need that"... the fourth time, well, i kind of grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek (yeah, i know, i know) and basically walked home without saying anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i even cried a little, although i'm not really sure why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my mother met me at the back door as i was coming in and she's all, "have a nice time with jake? it's good that you two are hanging out again"... and i just said, "yeah, sure, mom" and went upstairs. it's just too depressing. and all i really wanted to do was sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today was okay. i thought it was going to be awkward or something, but apparently debate team (which jake is on) had to have an emergency meeting and jake wasn't at lunch or anything, and everything else was pretty standard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm still wondering if kira is/was pregnant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i didn't know i was such a... chicken. or a prude, i guess. really. it's embarrassing. but... i don't know. i'm kind of... naive, in a way, that i want everything to stay like it was a few years ago. or even before 2008. gah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i don't want to be the rebound girl. i don't think jake's like that, exactly, but you never know what people will do... and i mean, i don't want to ruin our friendship, or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not sure how i feel about the whole friends with benefits thing, either. especially with him fresh off a breakup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i guess it means something that i'm the one he's coming to to whine about the breakup. maybe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;roxymotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;btw: it was fun talking to you tonight. you know who you are. :)&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/736678387781781119-4418177779870692270?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/4418177779870692270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=4418177779870692270' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/4418177779870692270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/4418177779870692270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/02/best-you-could-hope-to-be.html' title='the best you could hope to be'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-7210290575403812492</id><published>2009-02-12T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T18:30:50.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#40</title><content type='html'>my current favorite song combination is "upside down" by a*teens and "w.a.m.s." by fall out boy. fun stuff.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;j&amp;amp;k are no longer j&amp;amp;k. we're all acting like nothing happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but there is obvious tension... i mean, how could there not be? and then, just when everything is semi-normal for, like, half a second, someone makes some thoughtless remark and BAM! instant tension again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then today alan's like, "so, jake, how about going out with roxy?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i felt my freaking BLOOD freeze. i wanted to strangle alan with the fringe on cambria's stupid jacket (today she was wearing this awful brown leather jacket with fringe all over it... and matching cowboy boots... UGLY BEYOND BELIEF.)... and then jake decides to play along and goes, "sure, rox, how about it?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(i'm sitting between alan (on my left) and jake (on my right) at the picnic table outside... alan's across from kira, i'm across from christian, and jake's across from cambria...... just so you have a better visual)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and drapes his arm around me like he's serious. but i can see his eyes look sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and anyway... so, i completely lost my mind and said:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"what? no. are you gay?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and everyone laughed like it was funnier than a coach hines skit from madtv (and that shit is HILARIOUS --- i've spent the evening watching it on youtube).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's really hard to know what the old roxy would have done. i mean, we all know i used to be jealous of j&amp;amp;k's relationship (and that's putting it mildly). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i'm reading waaaaay too much into this. IT WAS A JOKE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;grrr. this is so ANNOYING. maybe i do still like jake like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so now i'm watching how i met your mother. i've seen every episode of that show twice... now 3 times, i guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UGH. mandy just got out of the shower and now the whole upstairs REEKS of her shower gel. it's amazing that we don't go broke buying her grooming products. she uses like half a bottle of shampoo every time she takes a shower. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and now the upstairs is going to smell like dead strawberries for the next couple of hours. i just might die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thank god tomorrow is friday. i have no plans for the weekend or anything, so i guess i'll sleep in or something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;right now all i have to do is school, and i like having plenty of unstructured time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;everyone said junior year was going to be so hard academically. so far, that isn't true. no harder than sophomore or freshman year, anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;also, my earliest posts (like from july) really annoy me. they were so... i don't know. i like to think i've matured since then, but you can never really tell about those sorts of things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxy&amp;hearts;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-7210290575403812492?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/7210290575403812492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=7210290575403812492' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7210290575403812492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7210290575403812492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/02/40.html' title='#40'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2188803080856736524</id><published>2009-02-02T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T18:52:07.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>feeling like a blog whore</title><content type='html'>when's the last time i posted so much? never. that's when.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today robby saw mandy kissing the kid who lives down the street and (literally) ran crying to my mother. screaming, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he is eight, after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mandy is also eight. and the kid she kissed is like twelve. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-cue collective EW from everyone reading-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;according to robby, they kissed a lot. or something. i'm reasonably certain he didn't hang around long enough to find out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, now, my mother has been explaining things to mandy about sexuality. my poor mother is incredibly uncomfortable. mandy is bored. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's kind of funny, yet weird. i grew up in the 90s and all... and i got my first kiss when i was 13. i grew up playing with the boys next door (because there was no one else around), and so i really didn't think of boys any differently than girls. and it's only been since last year that i developed a crush on jake. which i'm not entirely sure i still have. but still.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we don't even talk all that much anymore... despite that i'm around him kind of a lot. it's like being friends with a stranger. if that makes sense. and it makes me sad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and cambria: stop reading my blog without leaving comments and then dropping hints to me later about what you read. it's annoying. LEAVE A COMMENT, HALFER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; luvu. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;off to do more homework. not only am i turning into a blog whore, i'm also turning into a nerd. crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&lt;/span&gt;&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/736678387781781119-2188803080856736524?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2188803080856736524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2188803080856736524' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2188803080856736524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2188803080856736524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/02/feeling-like-blog-whore.html' title='feeling like a blog whore'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-7294604798374330695</id><published>2009-01-30T21:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T21:48:39.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>when i was feeling down, you'd start to hang around</title><content type='html'>had avril's "get over it" stuck in my head all day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love that song. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyhoo. tonight was fun. alan came over tonight and we just sort of hung out for a while. he left not long ago (because of my mom... "hey, kids, it's getting kind of late..."). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love late nights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i also love how my mother is a little weird about alan, you know, hanging out in my room alone and all. she knows he's gay, so she's a little bit more relaxed, but... i mean, she was less concerned about JAKE and he's STRAIGHT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;geez, mom. you know, sometimes parents are really just not very bright.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-roxy being generous-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OO! I NOW HAVE A TWITTER! you might have noticed this. but. twitter is SO FUN! i'm sort of addicted. i'm not sure what's addicting about posting little clippets about what you're thinking and doing, but it is. and i love it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;plus my twitter looks remarkably like my blog. i know. i'm just amazing like that. lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think alan and i talked about EVERYTHING under the freaking sun. i feel happy and kind of calm and quiet inside. i think maybe i got some stuff off my chest that i needed to get off, stuff that doesn't come out right on paper and sounds kind of crazy out loud unless you're talking to someone who GETS IT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;alan and i have really only been friends for a few months. it's crazy, really. but, ah, they say time flies when you're having fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&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/736678387781781119-7294604798374330695?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/7294604798374330695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=7294604798374330695' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7294604798374330695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7294604798374330695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-i-was-feeling-down-youd-start-to.html' title='when i was feeling down, you&apos;d start to hang around'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1150367127686708507</id><published>2009-01-29T17:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T17:55:53.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't turn around</title><content type='html'>i hate adverb clauses. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyhoo. thanks for the comments, everyone. all i have to say is, it's better to actually BE in the middle than it is to put someone in the middle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if that makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i got an a on my last english quiz, despite my hatred of adverb clauses, and i'm pretty freaking happy about that right about now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c&amp;amp;c and j&amp;amp;k are the same. except i caught christian reading maxim (the one with avril lavigne on the cover) and he begged me not to tell cambria. i just let him sweat. no promises, c, and i can't help it if cambria sometimes reads my blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;excuse me while i go hack up a lung laughing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anywho. other news... i got my revenge... and i didn't have to do anything at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the golden girl of the family... the beautiful one... the talented one... the smart one with the hot boyfriend, my cousin joulia...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;got herself knocked up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;carley said that this isn't j's first pregnancy scare (more like the third), but this one turned out to be the real deal, so she had to fess up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mom was pale when she got off the phone, and i was all, "god, that sucks, what's going to happen to the baby?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;even though i was laughing on the inside. hard. evilly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm guessing it's erik's baby (which would make that kid a genetic goldmine, i must say), but with joolz you never really know. supposedly joolz has had a nerdy sex partner with acne (says carley).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um. okay. i'm assuming it wasn't rape. you never hear about nerds raping people (i think). so was it some sort of freakish attraction or payment for a favor? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ewwww. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, if it was payment for a favor, that would explain joolz's a's in math class. she's even worse at math than i am, and that's saying a lot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"joolz, what's 8 times 7?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"uhh. hold on a sec. god, why do you want to know anyway? get a calculator."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or something like that. but you get the idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not long ago i was whining about what a bitch karma is. and now i'm pretty happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;funny. i make peace with being single, and i meet a cute guy at youth group (yes, my parents make me go to youth group now, which sucks) who is, um, really nice, but has a bit of a God obsession. the last topic was missionary dating, which apparently is a christian dating a non christian so they'll (the non christian) see the error of their ways and get saved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so he had to talk about that for a while. and the phrase "unequally yoked" came up a lot. i asked him what that meant, you know, because he could have been talking about oxen for all i know. he just laughed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wouldn't be against dating him, really. just that God thing is kind of annoying (although i have nothing against God, but hey ... talking about anything too much is obnoxious, like j&amp;amp;k's former pda), and i really am hoping he's not trying to save me or whatever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his name is mike.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;back to homework for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1150367127686708507?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1150367127686708507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1150367127686708507' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1150367127686708507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1150367127686708507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-turn-around.html' title='don&apos;t turn around'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5170153902636035172</id><published>2009-01-20T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T14:47:32.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You make breaking hearts look so easy</title><content type='html'>how sad is it that my first post of 2009 is 20 days into the new year?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sad, roxy, sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWHO! I found out that my website, roxymotion.webs.com, was in the top 1% of sites the day i made it. WOOT! that's exciting. i should update it more, once i figure it out more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyways.... c&amp;amp;c have promise rings. i guess they're going to get married eventually. or whatever. alan's going out with an art freak (i really don't know what he sees in the guy, personally), and j&amp;amp;k are on the verge of a breakup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I KNOW! i wanted it to happen for so long so i could have jake... and now... i'm actually SAD about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;doesn't it suck when two of your friends are breaking up? (yes, i consider kira a friend now.) then you can't really pick sides like you can if it's just one friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i talk to jake. he seems sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then i talk to kira. she seems sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's like they don't really WANT me to choose a side, or break up, or anything... and yet they're trying to get me to pick a side during this mess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;stupid, pathetic, idiotic people...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me, i've made peace with being single. i like where i am right now. most of my friends are sane (with a few notable exceptions) and my life is going okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;erik and i don't text anymore. i don't know if he's with joolz or what. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sounds weird, me being all optimistic and all. but it's a good feeling, for once. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the weather is so incredibly nice!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've missed you guys so much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxymotion&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-5170153902636035172?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5170153902636035172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5170153902636035172' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5170153902636035172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5170153902636035172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-make-breaking-hearts-look-so-easy.html' title='You make breaking hearts look so easy'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8664641863236828395</id><published>2008-12-29T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T16:00:53.495-08:00</updated><title type='text'>newness</title><content type='html'>sooo i have a new site.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://roxymotion.webs.com/"&gt;roxymotion.webs.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you can update that in your following things. i'm going to be posting there and all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and it's exciting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8664641863236828395?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8664641863236828395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8664641863236828395' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8664641863236828395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8664641863236828395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/12/newness.html' title='newness'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2175082362512634231</id><published>2008-12-28T16:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T16:25:24.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you never</title><content type='html'>hey yo.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;holy freakin' a i've missed this thing. absolutely no time to get on. and then mandy borrowed my computer and somehow managed to give it the blue screen of death. sooooo basically i had to get a new one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway. a lot has gone down. cait was right. i am in a good mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c&amp;amp;c are still going strong. they're sort of like an old married couple. but it's cute to watch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;j&amp;amp;k .... well, it's like for how long they were attached with velcro. not anymore. their relationship seems more like jake's and mine, except we never made out in public all the time. i asked jake if they'd broken up (give me a break, i was taken over by the curiosity demon) and he said no. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;huh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;alan and i are tight. sort of like the new jake except not. i'm a little sad that now i spend more time with him than i do jake, but that's life, i guess. and it's cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh. and alan is gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was surprised when he told me. i think i'm the first person he came out to. it's weird. it's like i can't see him with another guy and yet i can. but i fully support him. i personally don't know how i would ever come out if i were gay. it seems like it's hard. i don't know. it's not like being ashamed of what you are, i guess, but more afraid of what people will say. alan seemed relieved that i was cool about it. and that made me happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and it really has worked out, more or less. i told him i used to have a sort of crush on him, and we just laughed about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's a really good person to laugh with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thanksgiving was pretty calm. it was just us. by "us" i mean me, my mom and dad, and robby and mandy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mandy thinks she's sixteen. it's funny to watch, but holy freaking A. i don't think i knew half the stuff at her age that she seems to know. and that was only a few years ago. i'm laughing here, but seriously ..... she's all, "does this look sexy?" blah blah blah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i don't think i ever really cared about looking sexy. still don't, really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she's freaking EIGHT. good lord.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;robby, on the other hand, is trying to fend off the advances of a little eight-year-old vixen. seems the girl stuck her tongue in his mouth and he hauled off and slapped her, so his teacher called mom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i laughed so hard when i heard the story. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my poor mom. she was just like, "roxy, will you PLEASE stop laughing! this is not at all funny!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;which only made me laugh harder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;christmas was fun. we opened the presents on christmas eve and had christmas breakfast ... then i went out with the c's and j&amp;amp;k and alan for a few hours. there's this big hill over and we sat on that, ripping out the grass and just talking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wonder if maybe alan sort of likes jake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;join the crowd, homey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i feel more settled these days, like i don't feel all this empty, nervous space inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe i'm just maturing or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OR i could be just accepting all this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm going to stop before i start sounding like jade. not that i actually can. she's smarter than i am. lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2175082362512634231?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2175082362512634231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2175082362512634231' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2175082362512634231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2175082362512634231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-never.html' title='you never'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-7255680688950488233</id><published>2008-12-27T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T20:17:40.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>headaches &amp; happiness</title><content type='html'>six thingers that happify me......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) lip gloss. i'm a freakin' lip gloss WHORE.&lt;br /&gt;2) starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;3) how i met your mother. god i love that show.&lt;br /&gt;4) memories.&lt;br /&gt;5) my cell phone. lol.&lt;br /&gt;6) my blog and all its lovers and haters and crocigators&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm in a weird mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take this and get happy. i shouldn't have to tag you. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-7255680688950488233?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/7255680688950488233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=7255680688950488233' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7255680688950488233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7255680688950488233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/12/headaches-happiness.html' title='headaches &amp; happiness'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1141305052963829608</id><published>2008-10-30T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T18:42:13.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hey, it's not over now</title><content type='html'>me, roxy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for halloween i'm borrowing my mother's clothes and stuff to make myself look older than i am, and i'm taking robby &amp;amp; mandy trick-or-treating. which i'm actually excited about, because i'm going to tell everyone they're my children and see who i fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;probably no one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i told everyone i don't feel like going to the halloween party tomorrow. which is true. i feel like being lonely and feeling sorry for myself. except i don't really feel sorry for myself. today i woke up and i was completely okay with myself and my life, fucked up and shitty as it is and I am. acceptance is the final step, as they say. or is that what they say? i have no idea. whatever. the point is, i'm cool with everything exactly as it is now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also going to borrow cambria's blond wig from two halloweens ago, since my mom is blond and i can't pass for her without blond hair, since mine is black/blond/pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alan gave me a sympathy hug, like aww, roxy, you poor devil, you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, thanks everyone who gave me costume ideas (even though i didn't use any of them . . . HA!) and commented, and i hope you all have a wickedly awesome halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and maybe an epiphany or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but a wicked halloween all the way around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1141305052963829608?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1141305052963829608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1141305052963829608' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1141305052963829608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1141305052963829608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/hey-its-not-over-now.html' title='hey, it&apos;s not over now'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3827608501571519656</id><published>2008-10-22T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T16:46:53.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>little creepy girl with her little creepy face</title><content type='html'>so i've had 30 posts since my debut in july (oy.... i had no idea i'd written that many....) and they've all been commented save one! (&lt;a href="http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/pink-hair-makes-you-invincible.html"&gt;pink hair makes you invincible&lt;/a&gt;.... you can go leave me comments on that if you wish. just so it's not left out in the cold. ;])&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neenerneenerneener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;halloween is coming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of my all time favorite holidays. i know, i'm 17 and i'm too old to trick or treat, but last year i went (with mandy &amp;amp; robby.... i also went to some halloween parties with my friends)..... i feel like going this year, although i really don't want to take my siblings. (for one, mandy is going to be hannah montana. really. robby's not sure yet. he's thinking about being a ninja or a pirate. so cliched, both of them.) and i need to pick a costume. last year i was corpse bride. haha. i'm really not sure what i want to be this year. i was thinking about maybe being a gothic doll (i love those dolls!!) or something retro and 60s-ish ....... ahh, i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cam&amp;amp;chris are going to be bella &amp;amp; edward, you know, from twilight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so. annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake is also going to be a vampire, but he's going the goth route, sort of like gerard way (which will be awesome because he still has gerard hair). kira's going to be helena, like in the mcr video helena. (which will be weird, because the girl in that video is so skinny, and kira's gained around 15 pounds in the past month or so. oh god. i hope she isn't pregnant. i literally just thought of that. great. now i'm going to be all freaked over that. and i also can't see kira as being, you know, goth and dead. she's too........ lively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then me.... again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRRRRRRRR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alan's going to be kurt cobain. two of his other friends are going to be krist novoselic and dave grohl. that's going to be cool. alan suggested that if i wanted to be "matchy" like c&amp;amp;c and j&amp;amp;k, i could be courtney love or something......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which i am vaguely tempted to do....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i don't want to go the whole matchy route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's probably because i don't want to be courtney love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or i could go really cliched and be a witch. all i would have to do is get the pointy hat. i have this really cool black cape that i could wear over ........ something black, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i don't wear slutty costumes as a matter of principle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like some of the costumes hot topic has. the black angel one is cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or..... i could be avril lavigne, with my pink hair and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll think of something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's basically the only important thing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except jake &amp;amp; cambria don't really seem to notice that i'm hanging out with them less and hanging out with alan &amp;amp; jade more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stuff changes.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like change as long as it doesn't change anything, if you know what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3827608501571519656?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3827608501571519656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3827608501571519656' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3827608501571519656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3827608501571519656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/little-creepy-girl-with-her-little.html' title='little creepy girl with her little creepy face'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1959430713078670605</id><published>2008-10-15T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T20:39:56.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match</title><content type='html'>so i downloaded "what a catch, donnie" today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is one of the saddest songs i've ever heard. i mean, it actually made me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;miss flack said "i still want you back"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i've got troubled thoughts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and the self-esteem to match&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;what a catch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i got this assignment in writing class today...... i have to write a (short) romantic story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i suck at writing stories to begin with (mostly because i can't describe things very well), and romantic stories are even worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like, i can't write about sexual stuff like some people can..... it's just unnatural for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, a normal kissing scene is fairly descriptive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a kissing scen written by me contains only a few words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they kissed.&lt;br /&gt;he kissed her.&lt;br /&gt;she kissed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, geez. what else do you want me to say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cambria is so good at this stuff. i'm not sure why. i'm jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like, i can't even write DIALOGUE. it comes off like a conversation between nervous people who hate each other or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like...... i don't know. it's just weird for me. i can't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'll give it the old college try, as they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once upon a time there lived a boy and a girl. they lived in the same town and attended the same school. one day they decided to go out. so they decided they really liked dating and became boyfriend and girlfriend and made out in public all the time. they got married after they graduated and had seven children and lived happily ever after. the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alternate ending:&lt;br /&gt;one day the girl caught the boy making out with another girl so she broke up with him and went home and slit her wrists and died. the boy married the other girl and lived happily ever after. the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are more possible alternate endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the point is, the story fucking sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not that i can't come up with a basic story EXACTLY. (although i admittedly took some parts of that story from my real life. if you've been a reader of mine for a while you know what i mean.) it's that i can't turn a stick figure into a portrait, if you catch my drift. like, i can't take that basic story (if i were to use it, which i'm not going to) and add pizzazz to it. (it's 1000ish words. oh, and it's due monday.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;motherclucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder why my hands are so cold. i mean, my laptop is hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah..... those are the only important things that happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and erik and i have been texting again. i can't tell if he and joolz are broken up or not. he's being very vague (deliberately, i bet).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i cared. but i don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what comes of feeling so sorry for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i talked to cambria about volunteering. she says all i have to do is show up about an hour before their doors are supposed to open and i'm golden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah. and we have officially joined cambria's church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i might go hang myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if my parents HAD to get religious, why couldn't they have gotten a more.... i don't know. MODERN religion? it's just so blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe if i volunteer my parents will let me out of church. i would fully love that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, god understands. he knows that the sermons aren't doing me any good anyway. or anyone else, for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sound like i'm trying to rationalize this away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm going to end this post before i write something genuinely insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;roxy♥&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1959430713078670605?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1959430713078670605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1959430713078670605' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1959430713078670605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1959430713078670605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-got-troubled-thoughts-and-self.html' title='i&apos;ve got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1722740263088078284</id><published>2008-10-12T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:53:47.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the word on the street is i lost it</title><content type='html'>can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, how utterly boring am i? all i talk about anymore is j/k/c/c. me, the lonely fifth wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i seriously need to get a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i still like jake after all. but i can't tell him. i'm not a homewrecker (with a heart of gold or otherwise).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do think that this whole pda-thing is probably kira's fault. because jake's had girlfriends before that he didn't do this with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe i'm just too..... i don't know. puritanical isn't the right word. and i'm not a prude. i'm just......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm just feeling sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;half of me says i have a right to feel sorry for myself. the other half says i should get the fuck over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they're both right, which sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only good things i can think about right now are the fact that my gpa is pretty solid and my hair looks really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and alan and jade are my friends. (dammit. i'm all sad again. i can't think of the word FRIENDS without thinking of cambria &amp;amp; jake, and how we're rapidly growing apart.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just ..... i mean, you can't just replace people. my mom asked me yesterday if i was dating alan, and i said no (but i wouldn't be above it if he'd ask me out), and then she asked me if "he's the new jake" ..... which i vehemently denied......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although i guess he is, kinda sorta, even though he's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like, at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just need to get my mind off myself. i told my mom that today. she said i could volunteer at cambria's church's soup kitchen if i wanted to. i might. it's a good thing to do, and besides, doesn't that look good on college applications? and there i go being selfish again. that one was just wrong though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah. dad &amp;amp; mom made us all go to cambria's church again today. i don't know if we're going to join or what. i've  been avoiding the youth group thing in the morning as much as i can (and getting away with it, because cambria's too into her boyfriend to notice) and spacing out during the sermon, because the pastor is boring and i can't understand his sermons anyway, and besides, he frequently breaks out into song. let me tell you, god did not gift that man with a singing voice. and all the singers suck for the most part and the music is boring. if we have to go to church, can't we go to that other one with the interesting pastor and the GOOD music? like, modern stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think we're only attending this particular church because of cambria's family. sheesh. although in all the years we've known them, we've never gone, so what's with attending now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess my parents are getting religious in their old age. although they're not that old. in their 40s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever. just so long as they don't expect me to actually start taking sermon notes or whatever. i've seen people do that. i can't, for the life of me, understand why. i mean, even reading the bible is more interesting than listening to him talk. at least the bible tells good stories. even in the king james version or whatever it's called, with all those thous and thees and shalls and arts in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah well. i think i might try that volunteering thing. i hope i don't have to pray for anyone or anything. because my total knowledge of prayer goes about as far as "god is great, god is good, now we thank you for this food" and "now i lay me down to sleep" and "god, please get me out of this mess and i swear i will never ever ever do (fill in the blank) again"  ..... and i'm sure that those prayers aren't exactly going to help anyone. they probably don't even help ME. not that i even pray them except for that last one. i prayed the sleep one when i was a kid when i was at my grandparents' house (because they insisted on it) and the food one at camp (again, because they insisted on it) and the last one when i'm in a really bad fix. god probably doesn't like that very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think my problem is that i borrow trouble, and i'm too fixated on the little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all they'll probably have me do is ladle soup in people's bowls or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and hey. i'd much rather do that than sit through that pastor's hideously boring sermons. at least volunteering does some actual GOOD in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;roxymotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1722740263088078284?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1722740263088078284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1722740263088078284' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1722740263088078284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1722740263088078284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/word-on-street-is-i-lost-it.html' title='the word on the street is i lost it'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-9083527761562003201</id><published>2008-10-09T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T14:30:58.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More thoughtfood. :)</title><content type='html'>so i took skippy's advice that my friend who wrote &lt;a href="http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/thoughtfood.html"&gt;the amazing essay&lt;/a&gt; (is it an essay? something like that, anyway) should have a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i made her one. shizam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she posted twice already -is excited- so if you want to, go check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://almostjade.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://almostjade.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;roxymotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-9083527761562003201?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/9083527761562003201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=9083527761562003201' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/9083527761562003201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/9083527761562003201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/more-thoughtfood.html' title='More thoughtfood. :)'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1166378316555359400</id><published>2008-10-08T16:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:17:59.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughtfood.</title><content type='html'>the thing is, you can't be so stuck up that you think you're not going to mess up. shit happens. that's life. and a lot of the problems you have, you made yourself. you can't rely on someone else to fix it for you, either. you have to suck it up and tell yourself that you're not going to do that again. you have to realize that people aren't going to like you, they won't understand, and they will probably assume the worst about you, your motives, and your actions. sometimes you'll cry. even if you think tears are weak. sometimes you'll weep hysterically and won't be able to stop no matter who tells you to or how much you berate yourself. eventually, you'll realize that everyone who ever hurt you was insecure. and we all hurt each other. we are all insecure no matter how much we think we're not. you'll wake up one day and realize that you've moved on. sure, you might still be bitter. but you will realize that you are the only one who has the power to mess up your life. being different isn't all it's cracked up to be. sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and rebellion and do as you're told. you will forget things. important, major things. minor things that no one will ever see. intentionally or without meaning to. you will disregard the minor things only to realize in two days or twenty years that those were actually the most important things. sometimes you have to swallow your pride and ask for help. some people will never forgive you. the people you hurt the most will either be the people that you love the most, or that love you the most, or both. writing is good therapy. nothing is unimportant. no one is unimportant. remember that everyone basically feels the same way you do. the golden rule is not cliched advice. it is fact. you will eventually realize that there is a god, and you will talk to him or her, and at other times you will be so ashamed you can't even look skyward. you are selfish. it is the fundamental human flaw. every sin ever committed has been because of selfishness. you will be rejected. you will be lonely. you will be hurt. you will despair for your life. if you hang on for just a few more hours, you will still be miserable, yet happy to be alive. air is a beautiful thing. vital. it is okay to be a face in the crowd. sometimes it's the best place to be. the grass is not greener in someone else's yard. you're just seeing it from a nice angle. remember that though you see all your yard's faults, someone is wishing that they had your yard. you are highly flawed. if you doubt this, it is proof of your disability because you are also blind. don't apologize unless you mean it. don't break people's trust. it doesn't matter if you like them or not. be nice. don't snub. don't lie. honesty is not always the best policy, though. cultivate a good reputation. do not damage it. realize that you will damage it and some people may never forgive you. take a quick break to remember where you came from and then get back to where you're going. you can't walk looking through binoculars. eventually, you'll realize that, ultimately, no one will be there for you, you will die alone, you cannot trust them, and if you want something done you will have to do it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;note: i did not write this. i came across it when my friend dropped her notebook in the hall and this fell out. she wasn't even mad that i read it, and she gave me permission to reprint this in my blog. i think it's quite impressive, personally. can you believe she's only sixteen? geez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--roxymotion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1166378316555359400?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1166378316555359400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1166378316555359400' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1166378316555359400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1166378316555359400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/10/thoughtfood.html' title='Thoughtfood.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2442369512526419525</id><published>2008-09-29T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T19:51:38.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh donna won't you pick me up tomorrow</title><content type='html'>i miss carley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we talked earlier today and she told me she got her pink streaks dyed blue. i am so fucking jealous. i want blue in my hair, too. or maybe green. i think green would look cool with the pink.... idk. whatever. this pink is holding up remarkably well (god love my stylist), so overall i'm pretty happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for all the comments, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at lunch today i went outside (it was a gorgeous day) and sat on the picnic tables on the back lot..... because all J&amp;amp;K do at lunch is full frontal snogging, as the british say, and all C&amp;amp;C do is feed each other. it's sickening. so i ate with alan. we've been talking a lot lately. it makes me feel vaguely guilty about what i said back when the lesbian rumor was circulating, because alan is really very nice and i see him as a friend now. so, the funny thing is, although i usually make my own lunch (yes, i'm lame like that, but i'm a picky eater so i have to prepare meals exactly how i like them), today mom was feeling particularly motherly and she made lunches for the three of us. sooo there was a peanut butter/mayo sandwich and cucumbers on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE PB/M. if they serve food in hell, that is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the cucumber slices were basically okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway. so, before i knew what i was doing, i stood up and growled in utter agony,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I HATE THESE SANDWICHES. I'VE ALWAYS HATED THESE SANDWICHES. WHY DO I HAVE TO BE BURDENED WITH THESE SANDWICHES?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i threw the offending sandwich against a tree and sat back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i realized what i did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i was like "motherfuckerrrrrrrr" and then alan's like, "so, you're in drama, right?" like it was no big deal. which it wasn't, of course. but still. it's vaguely embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why does bending your nail backwards hurt so bad? i just did it and it really hurt, although it doesn't hurt anymore, but i'm still holding my finger like i just broke it. freak that i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stupid mrs. k in drama club. she keeps telling me to SMILE onstage. dude. we are doing a DRAMA. there is no need for me to smile. and then she tells my mom who picked me up after school friday that i lack confidence. motherfuckingfucker. oooo that made me mad. i am totally confident. at least i think i am. or something like that. whatever. the point is, i am not a shy person onstage or off. i just am not a very smiley person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate cough drops. i just ate one and now my tongue feels all itchy and tingly. it's not a good feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to go start my homework and find a snack or something. peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2442369512526419525?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2442369512526419525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2442369512526419525' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2442369512526419525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2442369512526419525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-donna-wont-you-pick-me-up-tomorrow.html' title='oh donna won&apos;t you pick me up tomorrow'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5215259293600028662</id><published>2008-09-17T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T19:34:55.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>goodbye ruby tuesday</title><content type='html'>i like wednesdays. you never hear anything bad about wednesdays. they have a history of being good days. plus, the week is half over, so glory freakin' hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ennywhoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was good. being a wednesday and all. and it was better because kira had a doctor's appointment then a dentist appointment, so she wasn't at school today. and i had jake all to myself like i used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that was REALLY AMAZING because that very thing happened last week. except she was out with her parents. but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake's hair is growing out and right now he's got that whole gerard way thing going on. it looks smexy on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i actually told him that. he just laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because, you know. i'm his best girl friend (suck it up, cambria, i knew him first) and i can say stuff like that and get away with it because it doesn't mean anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sooo apparently i'm not a lesbian anymore. which is good. fucking nicole (i can't speak of that girl without saying the word fucking before her name) decided to aim her guns at someone else. not that i'm complaining. i never heard of this person until she started some random rumor mill. and the funny thing is, all rumors die down once she shuts the fuck up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah. my school is gay, and not homosexually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i laughed because jake's iming me, and he's complaining about how hard his math homework is. (we're in the same class, so i had the same work.) so right now i'm laughing at him because it literally took me ten minutes. maybe even less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;usually i don't laugh, but he really deserves it for this whole kira thing. and besides. it's aim. he can't see me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-5215259293600028662?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5215259293600028662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5215259293600028662' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5215259293600028662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5215259293600028662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/goodbye-ruby-tuesday.html' title='goodbye ruby tuesday'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1729516946076227793</id><published>2008-09-13T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:07:10.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I know she's kind of socially retarded and weird, but she's my friend."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1729516946076227793?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1729516946076227793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1729516946076227793' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1729516946076227793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1729516946076227793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-know-shes-kind-of-socially-retarded.html' title='&quot;I know she&apos;s kind of socially retarded and weird, but she&apos;s my friend.&quot;'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-872091147307591932</id><published>2008-09-12T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T19:57:05.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grand Theft Autumn - Fall Out Boy.</title><content type='html'>Where is your boy tonight?&lt;br /&gt;I hope he is a gentleman&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he won't find out what I know&lt;br /&gt;You were the last good thing about this part of town&lt;br /&gt;When I wake up&lt;br /&gt;I'm willing to take my chances on&lt;br /&gt;The hope I forget&lt;br /&gt;That you hate him more than you notice&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this for you&lt;br /&gt;(for you, so...)&lt;br /&gt;You need him&lt;br /&gt;I could be him&lt;br /&gt;I could be an accident but I'm still trying&lt;br /&gt;That's more than I can say for him&lt;br /&gt;Where is your boy tonight?&lt;br /&gt;I hope he is a gentleman&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he won't find out what I know&lt;br /&gt;You were the last good thing about this part of town&lt;br /&gt;Someday I'll appreciate in value&lt;br /&gt;Get off my ass and call you&lt;br /&gt;But in the meantime I'll sport my brand new fashion&lt;br /&gt;Of waking up with pants on at 4:00 in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;You need him&lt;br /&gt;I could be him&lt;br /&gt;I could be an accident but I'm still trying&lt;br /&gt;That's more than I can say for him&lt;br /&gt;(1-2-3-4!)&lt;br /&gt;Where is your boy tonight?&lt;br /&gt;I hope he is a gentleman&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he won't find out what I know&lt;br /&gt;You were the last good thing about this part of town&lt;br /&gt;(won't find out)&lt;br /&gt;He won't find out&lt;br /&gt;(won't find out)&lt;br /&gt;He won't find out&lt;br /&gt;Where is your boy tonight?&lt;br /&gt;I hope he is a gentleman&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he won't find out what I know&lt;br /&gt;You were the last good thing about this part of town&lt;br /&gt;Where is your boy tonight?&lt;br /&gt;I hope he is a gentleman&lt;br /&gt;(he won't find out)&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he won't find out what I know&lt;br /&gt;You were the last good thing about this part of town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kind of how i feel right now. soo yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;-roxymotion-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-872091147307591932?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/872091147307591932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=872091147307591932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/872091147307591932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/872091147307591932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/grand-theft-autumn-fall-out-boy.html' title='Grand Theft Autumn - Fall Out Boy.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-9127227227193858901</id><published>2008-09-10T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T18:50:41.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>uh uh uh</title><content type='html'>sooo i'm pretty happy right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kira had to go to the next town for the day with her parents for whatever reason, and i had jake all to myself again. it was like old times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and erik decided to start texting me again. he hasn't texted me in weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the things i like about myself is that i somehow manage to get my homework done really quickly. when i was in middle school i was always calling jake and cambria to ask if they got their homework done now? how about now? GOD,  HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO SPEND ON IT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but you know. it's how i roll. i race through everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks to everyone who took the time to make me un-bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, posts two days in a row. cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--roxymotion--&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-9127227227193858901?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/9127227227193858901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=9127227227193858901' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/9127227227193858901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/9127227227193858901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/uh-uh-uh.html' title='uh uh uh'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3724959642051169709</id><published>2008-09-09T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T18:23:17.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mkay</title><content type='html'>rephrase:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aim or msn. haha. it's all i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the aim is roxymotion and the msn is &lt;a href="mailto:roxymotion@gmail.com"&gt;roxymotion@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for replying though. =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3724959642051169709?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3724959642051169709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3724959642051169709' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3724959642051169709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3724959642051169709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/mkay.html' title='mkay'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2811520718899548456</id><published>2008-09-09T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T17:46:30.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, my . . .</title><content type='html'>HOLY MOTHER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alan called me tonight. just to chat, apparently. but it was fun. he's nicer than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should do this more often. this whole blogging thing is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if anyone has AIM, im me. i am so bored right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aim = roxymotion&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2811520718899548456?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2811520718899548456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2811520718899548456' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2811520718899548456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2811520718899548456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-my.html' title='Oh, my . . .'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3220870833382860449</id><published>2008-09-09T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T13:20:37.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't care what you think as long as it's about me</title><content type='html'>Woot! The new fall out boy song is on itunes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes. i am in love with that song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you so much to all my wonderful readers! you're the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i fucking hate school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not really my classes, because my teachers are pretty okay. it's the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fucking nicole started a rumor that i am a lesbian, because i guess she saw me talking to whitney, who IS a lesbian. i mean, really. i have to associate with whitney because we're both in this drama class AND the drama club. but she's a good person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could have ignored that if christine (who is probably the biggest lesbian in the school) hadn't started asking me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hey roxy. i heard you're a lesbian. want to go out sometime?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear to god, she literally said that to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i said, "i'm not a lesbian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she says, "well, the whole school says you are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i say, "no, they do not. nicole just started that rumor to be the fucking bitch she is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she says, "whatever. bye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then a couple of days later, she does it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOTHERFUCKER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and hanging out with jake and cambria (and their respective partners) is hard, because not only am i a fifth wheel, i'm a desperate lesbian who's in love with my best friend, who keeps shunning my advances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, for the past several days, i've been telling everyone to fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some motherfucker told my MOM that i'm gay, and she tried to talk to me about it ("it doesn't matter, honey, we'll always love you, blah blah blah") and before i realized what i was saying, i said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GOD, WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to my MOM, of all people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i started crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is pretty rare, for me. i'm not big on crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soooo, to make a long story short, i apologized to my mom and somehow the whole goddamn story came out, like i'm a seventh grader again and i tell my mom everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sooo she treats me like a seventh grader and gives me all the useless advice they teach moms to say at mom school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"just ignore them!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"they're just jealous of you, honey!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"just walk away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"remember, what goes around, comes around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, i know. karma is a bitch. but why is it so bitchy to me so often?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, yeah. i forgot to say that yes, kira does go to my school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i get to see their pda-fest every second of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and i think c &amp;amp; c finally kissed. woo. how cute is the fact that they're all shy and holding hands? why don't you  just go move to an amish colony or whatever they're called?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been avoiding them as much as i can, which isn't much, because, between the four of them, they always manage to find me. i need to get a place. you know,  like a secret place that most people don't know about and where nobody would think to look for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, alan, who is probably the most popular guy on campus, is my lab partner. he is hot, i must admit (still not as hot as jake or even erik), and he's quarterback and dated a cheerleader and all that jazz . . . he's also in a band and likes art. so he's weird. but he's also pretty nice. and i think he might like me. he's also single. which is good. now i just need to make out with him in a public place so i get my heterosexual status back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe that would backfire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh god. i am the most selfish person alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i should probably post here more just so i get everything sorted out in my own head. guh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3220870833382860449?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3220870833382860449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3220870833382860449' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3220870833382860449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3220870833382860449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-dont-care-what-you-think-as-long-as.html' title='I don&apos;t care what you think as long as it&apos;s about me'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5161246838253049481</id><published>2008-08-31T17:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T17:43:43.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chayeahh</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven't posted in forever. Been busy being a fifth wheel and prepping for school and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for the comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ummm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;methinks that jake &amp;amp; kira went all the way, but neither of them will cop to it. they went from being cute, holding hands and arms around each other, to massive PDA. it's gross, not to mention annoying, mostly because it happened all of a sudden. cambria has this thing about chastity (she even wears a purity ring) so you wouldn't know that she and her boyfriend are dating if you didn't actually KNOW. (he has one of those rings, too. i don't have much faith in that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my pink was fading, so yesterday i went and got it touched up. and i had my ends dyed this light blue color. i look awesome. and it didn't cost that much because i had coupons. (the people were trying to tell me i could only use one coupon at once, but i told them that since it wasn't explicitly stated as such on the coupons, they couldn't possibly expect me to save a coupon for next time. i mean, it would be expired by the time next time rolled around.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dad made us go to cambria's church today (i can't remember a word the pastor said, but i do remember that people looked at me oddly and my mom was embarrassed, although she didn't say anything), which basically sucked . . . so boring. i don't know how c does it EVERY WEEK, for the love of God . . . or fear of punishment, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;afterwards, cambria and her boyfriend (whose name is, weirdly enough, christian) and jake and kira and i went to the mall. we mostly stayed in the food court and didn't shop . . . although we did go in the gamestop and spencer's and the barnes &amp;amp; noble because it's always REALLY cold in there for some reason . . . and i found this book about that true love waits thing and i was reading it a little while the other four did . . . whatever. j &amp;amp; k probably made out in the stacks while c &amp;amp; c went to the kids section and cambria read dr. seuss . . . i guess. i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, the book. i can't remember the name or who wrote it. but it wasn't ALL bad. you know, it didn't say "if you have premarital sex you'll go to hell" . . . just that it's God's plan to wait until you get married . . . and that you also don't have to worry about getting pregnant or an STD. which i agree with. the pregnancy and the STD thing. i don't think i'll ever get married. and i don't really want to get married. but i don't want to die a virgin, either. i just . . . i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching j &amp;amp; k's constant PDA kind of kills my own desire to make out with him, because if i did, all i would think about is kira and how i probably have her germs in my mouth now. although i suspect that jake is a really good kisser. he looks like he would be. (i can't help it . . . watching them make out is both repulsive and hypnotizing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the new fall out boy mixtape is really good. it's on friendsorenemies.com and if you like them you should download it if you haven't already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-5161246838253049481?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5161246838253049481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5161246838253049481' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5161246838253049481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5161246838253049481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/chayeahh.html' title='chayeahh'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-1440123985381206339</id><published>2008-08-16T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T18:43:41.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i've loved everything about you that hurts</title><content type='html'>soooooooooooo i met kira today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i kind of spent the day with her. and with jake, of course. you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arms around each other. KOTCs (and otherwise). smiling. laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was the third wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, they were nice, don't get me wrong. jake's not exactly ditching me because he's got a girlfriend. but it's kind of hard to just be normal when he's wrapped around this random girl he met on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not that kira's a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's actually just about the nicest person i ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's so ANNOYING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no wonder jake likes her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;compliment after compliment. ms. uppity. helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you can tell it's not an act. she really is that way. it's almost like she would give someone a hug if they walked up and smacked her upside the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, maybe not exactly, but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we were going to the movies and saw cambria and -- guess what -- HER new boyfriend. (she didn't go away on vacation, she met this guy right here) well, i was already feeling kind of sick (maybe because of all the visual sugar i'd ingested today, who knows), so i begged off. i completely forgot that i'd been riding around in jake's car all day, and he let me drive it home and said he and kira would ride back with cambria &amp;amp; her guy (i can't remember his name for the life of me). and then cambria hugged me (of course) and then jake hugged me (maybe a little too long, but only because it was in front of his girlfriend, never mind that i'm his best friend) and then kira hugged me and said she hoped i felt better soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um. okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i drove jake's car to his house and then walked home. i wish i could see his reaction when he sees that. he'll be shocked. he might even think i decided to crash on his couch or something. (actually, i'm more interested in kira's reaction. i hope they don't drop her off before they do jake.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kind of wish i was still on vacation. it wasn't all bad, as much as i complained, and it was easier to talk to jake (and think about him) without kira, even though i knew she was around. sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, now he has this OTHER GIRL, and it's just ......... well, it's weird. you know how it is. or i assume you do. and if you don't, you will, eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and NOW what am i going to do? jake &amp;amp; cambria &amp;amp; i always hang out together. we're like the three musketeers. or some other equally bad metaphor. my point is, we're inseparable. and now there's this ........ PARASITE hanging on. i wonder if kira goes to my school. i've certainly never seen her before. maybe she goes to our rival. under normal circumstances, jake shouldn't want anything to do with her, but he sees everyone as equal, all the same, so he wouldn't care that she faithfully attends the heart of evil. maybe she's a really, really, REALLY good liar. or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although i don't know if she actually GOES there or not. yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and what if she does? what if she transfers to mine? what if jake transfers THERE? i'd have to kill somebody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-1440123985381206339?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/1440123985381206339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=1440123985381206339' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1440123985381206339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/1440123985381206339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/ive-loved-everything-about-you-that.html' title='i&apos;ve loved everything about you that hurts'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3885447907002145816</id><published>2008-08-12T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T11:21:31.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no lying quiz..... mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sianneiam.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-lying-quiz.html"&gt;No Lying Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Lying Quiz&lt;br /&gt;Lasts:10 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Last beverage: sprite&lt;br /&gt;2. Last phone call: jake&lt;br /&gt;3. Last text message: erik&lt;br /&gt;4. Last cd played: fm static's second album&lt;br /&gt;5. Last BUBBLE bath: 20 years ago? haha. i have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;6. Last hug: today.&lt;br /&gt;7.Have you ever Dated someone twice: well, of course i've been on dates with the same person twice. haha. but the breakup/makeup thing isn't for me.&lt;br /&gt;8. Have you ever been cheated on: maybe.&lt;br /&gt;9. Last vacation: this one, which is over tomorrow, YAYYY!&lt;br /&gt;10.Have you ever fallen in love: mmmm. nah.&lt;br /&gt;11.Have you ever lost someone special: yeah. =[&lt;br /&gt;12.Have you ever Been depressed: yeah. not really bad or anything, though.&lt;br /&gt;13. Have you ever been drunk and threw up:  hahaha. not yet. XD&lt;br /&gt;14.List 5 people you can tell anything to: jake, cambria, jake, cambria, this blog (sort of)&lt;br /&gt;15.List your favorite colors: black/blue/bright green/bright pink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you:&lt;br /&gt;1. Laughed: who me??? neverrrrrrr. hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;2. Met someone who changed your life? kinda sorta.&lt;br /&gt;3. Found out who your true friends are? more or less.&lt;br /&gt;4. Wanted to lower the drinking age? like i care. people will drink if they want to, doesn't matter what age they are.&lt;br /&gt;5. Gay, Straight, or Bi? straight. (that's right, lz, and i still hate you. lol.)&lt;br /&gt;6. Who is the best hugger that you know? mmmm. jake &amp;amp; cambria. haha.&lt;br /&gt;7. Do you believe in Love at first sight? i believe in crush at first sight. mwahaha.&lt;br /&gt;8. Is there something you want to tell someone? plenty.&lt;br /&gt;9. Brand of shirt you are wearing? old navy&lt;br /&gt;10. How many people on your top friends do you know in real life? all of them. duh.&lt;br /&gt;11. How many kids do you want to have? right now, none. lol.&lt;br /&gt;12. Do you have any pets? kitty &amp;amp; doggy&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you wanna change your name? Nah. although when i was younger i wanted to switch names with cambria. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;14. What did you do for your last birthday? nothing. jake &amp;amp; cambria wished me a happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;15. What time did you wake up today? almost 9&lt;br /&gt;16.What were you doing at midnight last night? sleeping&lt;br /&gt;17.Last time you saw your mother? this morning&lt;br /&gt;18. What are you listening to right now? silence&lt;br /&gt;19. Have you ever donated money to a good cause? yeah.&lt;br /&gt;20. Have you ever talked about someone behind their back? who hasn't?&lt;br /&gt;21. What's the last piece of clothing you borrowed from anyone? ahhhh i can't remember. i think this is cambria's belt i'm wearing, though.&lt;br /&gt;22. Who's getting on your nerves right now? the typos i keep making&lt;br /&gt;23.Most visited webpage? i don't know .......&lt;br /&gt;24. Coke or Pepsi? coke.&lt;br /&gt;25. Have you kissed or been kissed by anyone in the past month? nope. =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3885447907002145816?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3885447907002145816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3885447907002145816' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3885447907002145816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3885447907002145816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-lying-quiz-mother.html' title='no lying quiz..... mother'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-7900909810714949995</id><published>2008-08-12T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T11:37:02.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pink hair makes you invincible</title><content type='html'>Well, the family reunion was over yesterday (glory freakin' HALLELUJAH!) and we're spending one last day with joolz &amp;amp; co. before going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i get to see jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and erik's coming over later. he's making it look like a surprise, or something, but i know because he texted me about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i seriously can't wait to go home. i miss jake, and cambria. and . . . idk. blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so . . . the family reunion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i totally died and went to hell. i swear. if there is a hell, that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mkay, so everyone came and brought their kids, right? and i swear, there were about fifty screaming little kids running around. and one would fall, and cry, and then two others would be pummeling each other, and then others would be arguing about hannah montana, and then someone said she was going to marry a jonas brother, and another girl told her she was stupid because nobody was hotter than zac efron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously. these kids are all like under eight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is proof of what a totally screwed up world this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then someone got the bright idea to put them in an air-conditioned room with a bunch of tvs in it. so there was a group sitting watching hannah montana, another some anime flick . . . you get the idea. but that was on the second day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so then everyone from 9-17 ish was kind of forced to hang out, while the adults got drunk. (kidding. although a few did get sloshed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;carley and i were the only ones with pink hair. which was awesome, but seriously. this is supposed to be a TOLERANT age, not INTOLERANT. Pink hair is nothing new. i mean, GOD. GROW UP. GET A LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some moron even asked if we'd joined a cult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whoops. I meant GROW A BRAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so last night, jake called me and i was whining to him about everything that happened this week (which he oddly thought was funny, because he laughed the whole effing time) and i forget why i said this, but then I was like "MOTHERFUCKER!!" and mandy and mom heard me and gave me a lecture about my language. she said if this pink hair was going to affect me like this, then when we got home we would just have to go to a salon and get it dyed out. i told her it had nothing in hell to do with my hair (because it doesn't) and that this week had been murder in hell, and that i couldn't wait to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she just looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but i thought you were having fun this summer," was what she said. "you know, with carley and joulia........"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gee, mom. stoned much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kidding. but seriously. JOULIA??????? what has she been smoking? EVERYONE knows that joolz and i don't get along. and here she's thinking we're best friends or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or, excuse me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BFFS, LIKE, OMG LOL SERIOUSLY!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see, joolz and mandy already used acronyms in real-life speak sometimes, but now they do it practically every other word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these are what conversations sound like around here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"where's the milk?"&lt;br /&gt;"omg idk"&lt;br /&gt;"what?"&lt;br /&gt;"like, itdk so, like, maybe open the fridge? lol!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it REALLY pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sooo yeah. thanks to all my loverly commenters. i'll try to post more often, now that i'm going home tomorrow!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rxymtn♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-7900909810714949995?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/7900909810714949995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=7900909810714949995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7900909810714949995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/7900909810714949995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/pink-hair-makes-you-invincible.html' title='pink hair makes you invincible'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3041577042254698851</id><published>2008-08-03T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T20:41:31.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>any thoughts of you and me have(n't) gone away</title><content type='html'>listening to avril lavigne.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;welllllllllllllllllllll tomorrow's the big family reunion. how convenient that day one is a monday. such marvelous, abundant joy. i can hardly contain myself. i think i'm high from the endorphins. i might die from happiness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;yeah yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, i'm (kinda) happy for real. becauseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;erik broke up with joolz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IN YOUR FACE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no, that wasn't a lie. he really did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we've been texting and all that jazz. and he's nicer than i originally thought. (either that or he knows how to be nice when he wants to. i'm not entirely naive.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i found his myspace. god he is so hot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like, beyond belief hot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i already knew that, of course. but he photographs reallllllllllllllllllllllllly well. he should be a model.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GAH JAKE BREAK UP WITH THAT KIRA BITCH ALREADY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mkay so i'm not exactly over jake. and it's not like i can stop seeing him or something. he lives the next street over from me, we go to the same high school, and he probably doesn't want to stop being my friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know. because i'm cute, i have pink hair and good taste in music.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wonder just how close kira lives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i wonder why i'm turning into an obsessive stalker. it's not like me. i've never done this sort of thing before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then, i never had a crush on jake before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;god this is so unfair! why now? i mean, we've been friends since we were kids. this is insaneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you do realize that this thing with erik is never gonna work out, if only because i still think of him as an ass in the back of my head, and because of the long distance thing. it's stupid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i need to get a boyfriend right where i live, if i get one at all. (which is lame of me. it sounds like i'm talking about  buying a purse or something)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but at least i have the satisfaction that joolz is bummed about the breakup. she's pretending she doesn't care, but i don't think she got the red eyes and smeared eye makeup from watching PG-13 romantic comedies with mandy. (it's so funny to see mom try to handle this. like i said before, she never ever ever yells. and she doesn't exactly think PG-13s are appropriate for an eight-year-old. you know. haha. somehow she still thinks miley cyrus  is the ideal role model. whatever.) so that's kind of comforting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that i can sort of rub it in jake's face. (yes, i like rubbing things in people's faces.) hey, you think you had a good summer? i had a BETTER summer. my boyfriend is hotter than your girlfriend, bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can call people bitches and get away with it. i'm not sure why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH NO, WHAT IF KIRA IS HOT?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is so unfair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;haha. i saw a mosquito on my arm and i totally flipped out. it just startled me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, um, i guess i could feel sorry for myself, or i could go to bed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or something like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i need sleep for tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oo, funny thing happened today. i forgot what i said, but it was whiny and it was about jake, and robby asked me if i was in love with jake. (not in his usual taunting annoying eight year old way, but like he was really curious.) i denied it vehemently. he then asked me if i liked "that weird erik guy that's joolz's boyfriend" and i told him that e &amp;amp; j broke up, and that i might, potentially, like erik. but not like that. then robby gave me this weird look, like he was eating lemons, and told me not to get a boyfriend, because he needs me to be on call to play video games all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it really was a sweet moment, and pretty uncharacteristic for an eight year old BOY. isn't he supposed to hate me and mandy supposed to like me? oh well. i would be suspicious that he might be gay, but he likes all the stereotypical boy stuff, and hates girls, unless they're me and mom. and grandma. he likes mandy but he won't admit it. you know, twin thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think he liked her more before joolz came along, but that's joolz for you. a snooty wet blanket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that was seriously a funny combination of words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why am i rambling on and on and on and on and on and on? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ay ya ya ya ya ya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway. i think i'm gonna go. i have thinking to do, and it's best done with ice cream. cheers.&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/736678387781781119-3041577042254698851?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3041577042254698851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3041577042254698851' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3041577042254698851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3041577042254698851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/any-thoughts-of-you-and-me-havent-gone.html' title='any thoughts of you and me have(n&apos;t) gone away'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3145433798267660701</id><published>2008-08-01T16:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T16:12:40.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>but you know, if jake likes her, she's probably okay.</title><content type='html'>RIGHT?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3145433798267660701?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3145433798267660701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3145433798267660701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3145433798267660701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3145433798267660701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/but-you-know-if-jake-likes-her-shes.html' title='but you know, if jake likes her, she&apos;s probably okay.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-151289735594785565</id><published>2008-08-01T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T15:28:29.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE THIS.</title><content type='html'>you'll never guess what our parents did now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they made joolz and me go shopping together! all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apparently we haven't "bonded" enough so our punishment was spending the day together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we did sort of get around it because they left us by ourselves in a big mall, and we met up occasionally so when our moms called that we could easily say we're together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the lucky thing was, they let us borrow their credit cards.  i was tempted to steal joolz's (and i could have easily done it) and cut it up and throw it away buuuuuuuuuut i didn't. and i really regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEY. I SAID I WOULD CUT IT UP FIRST. I'M NOT TOTALLY HEARTLESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway. i did buy some stuff, mostly accessories at claire's. and i used my own money because i feel weird about using mom's card. she gets . . . um . . . patronizing. she never ever ever ever yells. she just lectures politely. i'd almost rather she yell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah. i'm writing this on my phone in  the bathroom at this restaurant we're all at. i really want a hamburger. from wendy's. but i ordered chicken parmigiana because they don't have hamburgers here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stupid fancyish restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, carley and i are getting weird looks from people because we have pink in our hair. would they be giving avril lavigne weird looks? no. they would be asking her for her autograph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well. only two more days here. and then we're all off to the big, glorious, wonderful, dreamlike family reunion. OH, SUCH JOY. I CAN BARELY CONTAIN  MYSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway........ jake called me today. at the mall. this is pretty much how it went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: hola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: hey roxy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: eeeeeee! hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: (laughs) hey yourself. what are you up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh, shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh yeah. i've bought $200 worth of stuff and every cent of it's been for you. NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although i did buy him this smashing pumpkins cd he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: how thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: hell yes. what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: just got back. i was out with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: yeah. it was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (silently seething) sounds like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: remember kira? i told you about her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: she lives near us. i know, crazy, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (laughs audibly, growls silently) oh really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: yeah. i can't wait for you to meet her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;translation: meet my new girlfriend. kira (squeezes), this is my friend roxy. (notice the omission of the word "best" from "best friend" on PURPOSE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah, i can't wait. so are you two . . . you know, together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jake: yeah. (laughs) it's been a cool summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so that's kind of a paraphrase, but it's still basically the same thing. we talked for a little while after that, but what i wrote up there is the important part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE IS DATING THAT KIRA GIRL AFTER ALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope someone pushes her in front of a bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, not really. but kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, either way, this is an excuse to go after erik. because he's seriously sexy. and i don't say that word about 99% of people.  i hope he breaks up with joolz soon. soon soon soon soon soon. so maybe she'll stop acting so goddamn superior for just ONE second. it's unlikely, but hey, anything is possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really like that song "then i woke up" by clique girlz. the ultimate bubblegum pop. the lyrics are lame and so is the video, but i like that song for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's certainly a lot better than diana degarmo's version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, carley came in to check on me so i'm going to go now. toodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-151289735594785565?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/151289735594785565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=151289735594785565' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/151289735594785565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/151289735594785565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-hate-this.html' title='I HATE THIS.'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8817864442629276906</id><published>2008-07-31T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T09:07:42.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!</title><content type='html'>He's coming back in a week! IN A WEEK IN A WEEK IN A WEEK IN A WEEK!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh yeah. by "he" i mean j. whose real name is jake. but anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I'M SO HAPPYYYYYYYYYYY! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;okayyyy. i guess i missed him more than i thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;which is cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;unfortunately, i won't be home in a week, i'll be two states away at the family reunion. which lasts a week in this family. really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate family reunions. they're so miserable. and yet the whole clan keeps coming, year after year, sometimes with unrelated people, just to make each other miserable? WHY, I ASK YOU? WHY?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gah i'm so bored. somebody who has msn IM me. it's roxymotion@live.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's another good thing about jake coming back. he'll be able to be online all the time so i can im him whenever i want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i asked him if he's dating that girl he keeps talking about in his emails, and i have yet to hear a reply. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;COME ON JAKE, YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so yeah. why are all my contacts offline? i know it's summer, but come on. i am so so so so so so bored. i think i'm going to watch friends on here. that's the great thing about the internet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so feel free to bug me (CAMBRIA I MEAN IT!! haha. love youuuuuu.) . . . or whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roxyyyyyyyyyyyy.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&amp;hearts;&lt;/span&gt;&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/736678387781781119-8817864442629276906?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8817864442629276906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8817864442629276906' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8817864442629276906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8817864442629276906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.html' title='EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2217001961727368207</id><published>2008-07-30T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T09:03:56.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i fought the law</title><content type='html'>we're at the beach. i'm putting this up from my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ryan doesn't either, so right now we're in this little greek restaurant waiting for our gyros to come (is that how they're spelled? i first said "euros" but that's money, not food). actually, right now he's in the bathroom, so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's fun, being away from the rest of the family for once. jk. haha. we tried to talk carley into coming, but she wanted to get a tan. so we just left the beach and walked downtown (not very far) because this whole town is a beach, really. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no little kids screaming and throwing sand (robby, trent, mandy &amp;amp; everyone else's young progeny) and annoying moms and dads out racing each other on jetskiis (although i personally love jetskiiing or HOWEVER YOU SPELL IT --- probably not with 3 i's) and joolz taking pictures of herself in her string bikini for you-know-who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LAUGHED SO HARD. because of course, no one knows about erik &amp;amp; me. (busted) i told everyone i was remembering something from a tv show. which was a lie, but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooo yay the gyros are here!! good lord, where the hell is ryan? oh, never mind. he's on his phone in the corner. see ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2217001961727368207?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2217001961727368207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2217001961727368207' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2217001961727368207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2217001961727368207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-fought-law.html' title='i fought the law'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2146166532598210487</id><published>2008-07-28T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T21:50:29.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>can't get it out of my mind</title><content type='html'>AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SO DEAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEAD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well kinda. i mean, it's not really my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;k. apparently joolz's boyfriend (erik) got ahold of my phone, or maybe carley's or ryan's, or my parents's ....... anyway, THE POINT IS, erik got my number and he's texting me!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh my godddddddd. if joolz finds out...... or anyone else for that matter.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to catholic church when i was little..... what are some of those prayers they say? hail marys or whatever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know. like a dead religious icon can help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho. it was totally innocent, i swear. we have this swingset in our backyard, and i was sitting on a swing doing nothing when my phone rang on the ground and i jumped and fell off the swing. i mean, my ringtone is "girlfriend" by avril lavigne and it's STARTLING when it suddenly bursts out of nowhere at top volume&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEY HEY YOU YOU I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!&lt;br /&gt;NO WAY NO WAY I THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE&lt;br /&gt;HEY HEY YOU YOU I COULD BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY. so i flip it open. random number i've never seen before. text. so i open it (carefully, like it might explode --- how stupid am i? i  mean, cringing as i open it doesn't mean it's going to eat my phone less, or something) and it's like, hey what's up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: uh yeah. who is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them: erik. joolz's friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note the key use of the word "FRIEND". Back at Joolz's place he said he was her BOYFRIEND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh. YOU. how'd you get my number?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: around. why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: because i want to know. it's my phone you're using up texts on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have unlimited texting. But he doesn't have to know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: oh. i can stop if you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: it's okay. i just wondered where you came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: lol. well now you know. so what's up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE STILL DIDN'T ANSWER THE QUESTION. And why in the world did I say "it's okay"? IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT "OKAY". I can just see what will happen if someone finds out. And what about J?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so yeah, I might, POTENTIALLY, harbor a small crush on my best friend. okay. I LOVE HIM. I mean, he's always there for me and all. plus he's reallyyyyyyyyyyyy cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: nothing much. you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: same. bored. got a myspace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: as far as you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: can i have it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: as far as you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: ok, fine. i can see you're busy. i'll ttyl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: sure. hasta la vista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik: yeah. you look really pretty with pink in your hair, by the way. bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah. i know, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I called him a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you know what REALLY sucks? i just checked my sent stuff on my phone and i just found out he sent a picture of ME to his phone!!!!!!!! so he did get it off my phone after all!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so torn between feeling giddy and fearing for my life. and thinking about j. i really wish he'd at least get online or something so i can talk to him. i mean, i need him to give me some advice, aside from my whole insane crush thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he'd probably just ask me what i was asking him for. "uh, rox. you can take care of yourself better than ten people can take care of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is true. but still. THAT DOESN'T MAKE THIS ANY EASIER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my phone is never leaving my sight again. i'll glue it to my hand if i have to. goodnight people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as far as you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion(is pissed)&amp;hearts;&amp;clubs;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2146166532598210487?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2146166532598210487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2146166532598210487' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2146166532598210487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2146166532598210487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/cant-get-it-out-of-my-mind.html' title='can&apos;t get it out of my mind'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-2682936422112885583</id><published>2008-07-28T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T07:41:21.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>marrying ashlee simpson is probably the worst career move pete wentz ever made</title><content type='html'>you know i'm right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because the pete wentz fangirls make up a hell of a large part of fall out boy's fans, and now they're all pissed that he married ms. plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it makes me laugh when i see people say things like, "omg i hope that baby has her old nose"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude. to me, she looked better with the old nose. but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she still never admitted to having it redone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if it had been me, and i wouldn't have wanted to cop to having a nose job for mere vanity, i would have concocted a story that somebody punched me in the face and broke my nose, or that maybe i fell down a flight of stairs and had to have some repairs done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then at least people would feel sorry for me and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;carley and i were watching live in phoenix last night (she has that dvd and i am so fucking jealous) and all of what i just said occurred to me. well, at least they look happy and all that jazz. (although looks are deceiving and all that jazz, too.) carley was kind of upset about the wentzlee marriage, but it didn't really bug me. it was pretty funny watching everyone cry about it. (i'm a hurley fan, personally.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all of us are back at our place for now. after that we're going to visit my mom's sister's family and then we're going back to our normal lives. GLORY, HALLELUJAH! the sooner i get away from joolz, the happier i'll be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night i had a nightmare that uncle el got a job transfer to our town, and joolz and carley and ryan went to my school and JOOLZ STOLE J AWAY FROM ME!!!!! well, not that he's MINE, technically, but you know what i mean. he's my best friend and all. and he broke up with his girlfriend and started dating her and it was so terrible.....everywhere i went, there they were, making out. finally i just sat down and cried, and all i could see with my eyes closed was them making out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told carley and she laughed sooooooo hard it was unbelievable. IT WAS NOT FUNNY. she said it was unlikely that the whole joolz &amp;amp; j thing would ever happen, not because uncle el is unlikely to get a job transfer here, but because joolz would probably go for the most popular jock on campus. (his name's greg. he used to be my partner in bio. i had a vague (and i mean vague) crush on him because he has amazing eyes, but he never made me tongue-tied or anything. and he's kind of a bitch. which is gay, because i know his girlfriend, and she is pretty much the sweetest person alive.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, anyway......i think i'm going to post more often, because i like this thing more than i thought i would. and thanks everyone who's commented. yes. my hair is awesome. HA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&amp;hearts;roxy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-2682936422112885583?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/2682936422112885583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=2682936422112885583' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2682936422112885583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/2682936422112885583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/marrying-ashlee-simpson-is-probably.html' title='marrying ashlee simpson is probably the worst career move pete wentz ever made'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-6697335954038638195</id><published>2008-07-23T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T11:38:53.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the best damn thing</title><content type='html'>ahhh last night carley and i did something ridiculously fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we snuck out to her friend's house and her friend's older sister gave us pink streaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it looks awesome. especially because i had half-blond half-black hair to begin with (blond on top, black underneath). now i have a bunch of neon pink streaks all over. carley's got brown hair, and her bangs (she has that sideswept bang thing) are pink and the lowest layer of her hair is pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup. we look AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone gasped in SHOCK when we came down. robby and trent didn't like it because it was pink, then asked if they could do it to their hair. ryan said we looked great, joolz turned her nose up at us, mandy told us we looked terrible, and our moms started to give us a lecture before our dads stopped them and they just shook their heads. they said we'd regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but we don't. we loveeeeeeee it. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so joolz's boyfriend came by today. he's been coming by most days lately. he said i looked really good with pink in my hair. i said i knew that. he laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he looks really goddamn sexy when he laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i might have a crush on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd be sorry, joolz, but you know, i'm kind of not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plus, you totally deserve it, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not like i would ever make a move on him or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but he's been being nice to me lately. carley says he probably kind of likes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not ugly or anything. you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i have more of a personality than joolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;great. now who's the bitch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna go. we're all driving south today. i'm riding with ryan and carley. thankfully, joolz and mandy will be in the other car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i don't have to see joolz's boyfriend for a couple of weeks now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is gonna be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ciao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;roxymotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-6697335954038638195?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/6697335954038638195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=6697335954038638195' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6697335954038638195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6697335954038638195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/best-damn-thing.html' title='the best damn thing'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-730173213422917958</id><published>2008-07-19T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T22:47:56.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up alone</title><content type='html'>well stuff changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, duh, Roxy. that's why it's a minute later than it was a minute ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was all excited to see Joolz (who now insists on being called Joulia).........but apparently she's not too excited to see me. she really seems to like my kid sister, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which is totally unfair. doesn't she remember all the time that she and I used to spend together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carley &amp;amp; Ryan sort of took me under their wing (Joolz's younger bro &amp;amp; sis) while Trent (the latest addition to the family, who is a few years younger than my brother) is with my brother. Oh yeah. Joolz spends her time mostly with my sister. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway. so we get there. and j makes it pretty damn clear that she's not happy I'm here. aunt kay was going to put me up in her room but she made such a deal out of it that carley volunteered to let me stay with her. which was really sweet. and i've been having fun with her and ryan. but this whole joolz thing is kind of a letdown. our parents are totally oblivious and keep trying to make us do stuff together. well you know what? if she doesn't want to, i'm certainly not going to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mandy (my sister) is practically in love with joolz. and it's so annoying! this is what she says whenever j isn't in the same room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OMG WHERE'S JOULIA?? I WANT TO SEE JOULIA!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she actually says "omg", too. which drives me completely insane. aunt kay seems happy with this strange turn of events, because I overheard her say that j always hated babysitting. despite the fact that mandy is my sister and I do love her, I don't actually LIKE her very much. i like robby (my brother) better. he actually SORT of likes me. mandy makes it clear that I'm a worthless slab of crud because i don't give a damn about hannah montana and high school musical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope disney burns in hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm kind of complaining. but i can't help myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, today me and carley and ryan took trent and robby to the local aquarium and walked around looking at all the fish and stuff. it was cool. and it was the most fun i've had since i've been here. then we went to game stop and a toy store and had a lightsaber battle. it kept getting knocked out of my hands by an overzealous eight year old and six year old, but hey, at least it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the meantime, dad and uncle el went golfing or something and mom and aunt kay and joolz and mandy went to a salon. then we all went out to dinner at some hotel restaurant. (the food sucked and was SO OVERPRICED!) i had to go to the bathroom before we were seated and when i got back there was one empty chair in between joolz and robby. which was half okay, because robby and i drew fierce alien battles on the backs of the paper placemats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i really love my kid brother. and he really is pretty okay, despite everything. i guess he likes me because i'm willing to play video games and stuff with him. he likes halo and guitar hero. and all the hours playing with robby made me pretty damn good. robby totally sucks at halo, but he's really good at guitar hero. it's almost shocking. they have a wii (ours malfunctioned and so we're going to get a new one) so carley, ryan, trent, robby and i have been playing stuff on that a lot. i really am not sure what joolz and mandy are doing. but they seem to be getting snobbier by the second. and i really hate it when joolz's boyfriend comes around, because he is SO HOT and such an arrogant asshole. seriously. he is like one of the hottest guys i've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would ask what he's doing with joolz, but it's not like she's ugly or anything. she's really, really gorgeous. and apparently just like him. so i guess it's a match made in heaven. or maybe it's the other, hotter place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i had a boyfriend. and i wish he was here. and i wish i didn't feel so sad about joolz. because ryan and carley are some of the sweetest people alive. so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow!! i can't believe i wrote so much. go me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ciao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;r♥xym♥ti♥n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-730173213422917958?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/730173213422917958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=730173213422917958' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/730173213422917958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/730173213422917958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/wake-up-alone.html' title='wake up alone'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-6318311115597120568</id><published>2008-07-17T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T16:10:03.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sick and i'm tired of your face</title><content type='html'>about another hour to drive before we get to the fam's place. we're at starbucks (yay for the free internet) and the twins are banging around, as per usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sort of hate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd better go. i want to post tonight but i probably won't. whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion&amp;hearts;&amp;hearts;&amp;hearts;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-6318311115597120568?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/6318311115597120568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=6318311115597120568' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6318311115597120568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/6318311115597120568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/sick-and-im-tired-of-your-face.html' title='sick and i&apos;m tired of your face'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-4176917077449946457</id><published>2008-07-16T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T16:06:39.081-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it really bugs me</title><content type='html'>mkkkkkkkkkk soooo the parents packed us up to go see some fambam (as kendra says) two nights ago and i have had no internet access until now.......... at a hotel. it's guh-reat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhoo. we saw my dad's grambam (who you think would be senile by now, being like ninety) and his mom (HOW DOES HIS MOM PUT UP WITH HER???) ....... who somehow manage to live without any outside communication (the damn phone barely worked) ..... and now tomorrow we're going to see fun people, like my dad's brother's fambam, which means i get to see joolz &amp;amp; co., my cuzzins. i totally love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My IM isn't working properly so i've had to resort to using the electronic version of snail mail. i sent J a longggggggggggg whine and he responded with sympathy and a whine of his own. i think he's getting a girlfriend there. oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go. so tired and the gruesome twosome are bitching at me for blocking the view of the tv. WHY CAN'T THEY MOVE??? and of course mom will take their side, because they're eight years old. THEY ARE NOT INNOCENT, MOM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;roxymotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (is pissed)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-4176917077449946457?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/4176917077449946457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=4176917077449946457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/4176917077449946457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/4176917077449946457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/it-really-bugs-me.html' title='it really bugs me'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-8766878684724081026</id><published>2008-07-14T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T16:06:23.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not too lovelyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy</title><content type='html'>MKAYYYYYY WELLLLLLLLLL today was kinda boring and shitty and all that jazz (I love saying all that jazz)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate summer. I'd rather be back in skl with the friendlies doing something. rather than just hanging out by the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess that's why i started this blog but what in the helllllllllll...............i guess maybe i'll stop when school starts....... or whatever.......... who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss J.......i wish he'd get his ass back home like SOON................stupid family, dragging him away and leaving me to occupy myself.................dammit.............oh well...........i forget when he's coming back but it's not all that long......... in real time...... in roxy time it's like forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sssssssssssss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxyyyyyyyy♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-8766878684724081026?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/8766878684724081026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=8766878684724081026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8766878684724081026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/8766878684724081026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-not-too-lovelyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.html' title='It&apos;s not too lovelyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-5767653777871098787</id><published>2008-07-13T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:43:59.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The way I see it......</title><content type='html'>So I stumbled upon some blogs today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sort of like all these people have their own little community thing going on. Like, they post a lot, and they all read each other's posts, and comment. Which is cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of them are story blogs, which is TFA, because I love stories, as I said. I would love to write them but I don't have the patience and all that jazz. Plus I suck at writing.....but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this thing I thought was funny.......someone posted a blog (I believe this person is called Neon Duck----awesome name BTW) asking "why do you post your stories on blogs when they could be ripped off and stuff".......and then someone responded (I think named Cady Lola Cep? I'm too lazy to go back and check) that they're just bored and experimenting and desperate or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA HA HA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it makes sense, since you could easily be ripped off. But the stories I've read so far are pretty good. So yes...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady Lola Cep, Cait, Kyla, Ellie, Susanne Claire.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyla's and Susanne Claire's were the only ones I was patient enough to read all the way through because the other three post a hell of a lot. I mean, like EVERY DAY for the past few months. It would take hours. And it looks like CLC has like four stories going. You probably have a shitload of time on your hands. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;♥&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;roxymotion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-5767653777871098787?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/5767653777871098787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=5767653777871098787' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5767653777871098787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/5767653777871098787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/way-i-see-it.html' title='The way I see it......'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736678387781781119.post-3357039365100191034</id><published>2008-07-13T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T00:40:45.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU'RE NOT NOT NOT GONNA GET ANY BETTER!</title><content type='html'>Yes, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the inaugural post of Roxy Motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Roxy Motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is roxymotion.blogspot.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is there to say, really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a family. That I live with. We have a cat. It's a girl cat. We have a house in suburbia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standard stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't look like anyone in the family, think like anyone in the family, or act like anyone in the family. So?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what I am. Besides being a 16-year-old girl and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have a label or anything. They're too narrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who needs labels, anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's all. I'm tired now. I took a nap earlier and that gave me energy to sit up all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roxymotion&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/736678387781781119-3357039365100191034?l=roxymotion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/feeds/3357039365100191034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=736678387781781119&amp;postID=3357039365100191034' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3357039365100191034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/736678387781781119/posts/default/3357039365100191034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roxymotion.blogspot.com/2008/07/youre-not-not-not-gonna-get-any-better.html' title='YOU&apos;RE NOT NOT NOT GONNA GET ANY BETTER!'/><author><name>Roxy Motion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10099703444073361072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PX2fXKwiew/SdVeBK_8wAI/AAAAAAAAACA/6yDawKcMzqs/S220/roxy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
