<?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-36269823</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:13:41.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ink Hearts Designs</title><subtitle type='html'>Everything is in the midts of nothing.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-177459531256193140</id><published>2007-09-06T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T19:21:33.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another</title><content type='html'>new blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.xanga.com/sfatheatreslave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy! hah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-177459531256193140?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/177459531256193140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=177459531256193140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/177459531256193140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/177459531256193140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/09/yet-another.html' title='Yet another'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8968071179537575677</id><published>2007-08-04T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T19:42:44.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think today was</title><content type='html'>the most productive day of my whole summer.  I got so much done. I don't really know when it all happened but my room is clean. And its pretty and I am sure I have made this same post like two years ago or so. But yeah, I am excited now and very tired and sore. . .and kinda lonely today. I haven't gotten to see anyone at all. I am still sick, plus sore from helping bail hay, plus I have a cavity that is finally at what I think is its worse state. I have been keeping down Tylenol and Advil and whatever else I can find.   Aside from that not a lot interesting is going on. Kory lost his job for a really stupid reason and its kinda turning out to be a good thing. I don't like the idea of him having to drive 7 hours to go to work. But with him working either 29/14 or 14/7 I will get to see him more often. He will not really be able to drink which is something his mother does not like. And it will cut back on spending money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby Is coming to see me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8968071179537575677?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8968071179537575677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8968071179537575677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8968071179537575677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8968071179537575677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-think-today-was.html' title='I think today was'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-7872615035922016114</id><published>2007-07-28T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T20:31:54.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark me EMO</title><content type='html'>because I am about to sound it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been feeling very depressed. Probably because of depressing situations. I was feeling like doing something this afternoon and could not really come up with anyone to do something with. I knew I would not keep in touch with people after high school. That is me, I don't feel like most people are worth keeping in touch with. For me to call up Heather, she would be too busy. . and she will be leaving in the fall. Kelsey had already been gone for forever now, and Zach and I are slowly drifting apart. Kory is in Galveston most of the time and while he is in now things are crazy. He is going to spend time with his memaw tonight which is understandable. So I have kinda realized that my lack of like for people and being so picky and all in the past is kinda screwing me over in the long run. Now all I basically have is Kory when he is here and it is not fare for me to demand all of his time, but I have no one else anymore really. Aside from faimly, which is different. This also makes me the needy person in the relationship, which I do not like at all. I understand needing to spend time with other friends and family and time apart, but there really isn't anyone else anymore. And I am afraid I will end up expecting65 too much of his time as a result and then running him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eating habbits have went to crap lately too. I have gained weight that I had lost which makes me upset which causes me to eat and gain weight. I love things that circle around like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kinda miss my job. Having something to take up my time. But I know if I had it I would not want it.  I am so so ready for classes to start. I know that has to be my problem is all the time I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been sick. Heavy lungs, stuffed up nose. I hate it. I have cut down on my smoking a lot because of it, that and the lack of money, hopefully it will stay that way. Now I only smoke if someone has a spare ciggarette which is helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, I feel like something is going wrong or is about to but I know nothing is. . maybe I am in trying to sabotage myself and make something wrong. Or I have too much time on my hands and it will not be an issue when school starts bacl/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-7872615035922016114?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/7872615035922016114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=7872615035922016114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7872615035922016114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7872615035922016114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/07/mark-me-emo.html' title='Mark me EMO'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8569367949049627390</id><published>2007-07-24T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T13:59:04.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJGtAs6I/AAAAAAAAABw/CU8gCU_ndO8/s1600-h/PICT0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has managed to set a record on me knowing someone and them pissing me off in the shortest amount of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sucks at plans, and time. And it has driven me crazy for the last like, 5 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I had heather over for some cool down time. We got a 20 dollar bottle of silver tequlia and finished it. It is safe to say we were gone.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before hitting the liquor I went to walmart. Kory told me to spend the money on something nice for me. So I went and tried on Jeans outside the dressing room at walmart since they were locked. I got that and a shirt. Then I bought him a planer. hopefully he will use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJGtAs6I/AAAAAAAAABw/CU8gCU_ndO8/s1600-h/PICT0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJGtAs6I/AAAAAAAAABw/CU8gCU_ndO8/s400/PICT0125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090857740276904866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJWtAs7I/AAAAAAAAAB4/pVcMXLNlRLk/s1600-h/PICT0140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJWtAs7I/AAAAAAAAAB4/pVcMXLNlRLk/s400/PICT0140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090857744571872178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJWtAs8I/AAAAAAAAACA/dTzPnCokzh0/s1600-h/PICT0160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJWtAs8I/AAAAAAAAACA/dTzPnCokzh0/s400/PICT0160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090857744571872194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJmtAs9I/AAAAAAAAACI/2IIPGTHO0rA/s1600-h/PICT0183.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJmtAs9I/AAAAAAAAACI/2IIPGTHO0rA/s400/PICT0183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090857748866839506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcKGtAs-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/r2_Kyv6dJIM/s1600-h/PICT0170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcKGtAs-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/r2_Kyv6dJIM/s400/PICT0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090857757456774114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8569367949049627390?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8569367949049627390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8569367949049627390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8569367949049627390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8569367949049627390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/07/kory.html' title='Kory'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/RqZcJGtAs6I/AAAAAAAAABw/CU8gCU_ndO8/s72-c/PICT0125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-6097052377702714913</id><published>2007-07-12T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T20:12:58.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I got up</title><content type='html'>at 6 to finish packing and head to Korys house. We left his house about 7 and headed for Houston. It was a pretty nice trip. I followed him and he took a different way than the directions that I have so I tried to stay right there with him. The only time I didn't a truck driver tried to run my ass over. He was really way way to close to my car. If the car in front of me had stopped I would have been fucked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I see an Exit to pearland and take it. I was suppose to take 288 but later I found out I was pretty much exact opposite of 288. I pretty much drove all the way thought pearland and had to go back because I turned the wrong way. . then I went way to far again.  I am the worst about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I got to my Aunt Jessica and Uncle Ronnies house and see them for a bit. While the carpet was getting cleaned I went to the Baybrook Mall. I felt like that place needed a dress code and that I could not ever possibly meet that code. I finally found some cheepy stores, thank god, and found a really cute dress and three really cute tops. Most of the things I brought to wear were sleveless or tube top or halter, whatever. So not I have nine things that are in that area and a farmers tan so that I can not wear them. I have two tops I can wear, that I brought to wear not as pj's.   I would have put the top in my up but it was so hot out and my AC does not work, so I am crispy fried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say for the past few days I have gotten to know kory even better than before and Still I can not really understand so many things.  Why he was single for so long, why he is interested in me, why he is the way he is. . . he is still as amazing as he was, even more amazing.  He is honest with just about everything, I could go on and on about everything that makes him amazing non stop, just so you know. But I need some sleep so I can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-6097052377702714913?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/6097052377702714913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=6097052377702714913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6097052377702714913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6097052377702714913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/07/today-i-got-up.html' title='Today I got up'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2213607431206809263</id><published>2007-07-07T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T02:47:38.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kory with a K</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Ro9dwgycuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GF5ZXrabKCA/s1600-h/PICT0088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Ro9dwgycuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GF5ZXrabKCA/s400/PICT0088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084385592341215538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are my jeans that I have had for years. There are two wholes in them right under my ass in the back. Zach picked them out for me to wear today because they were light coloured and Trey thought it would be a good idea to have it be a pair that everyone sign. Kory would not let me read what he was writing. And forgot exactly what the quote was he was quoting and asking everyone to help him. And they would read it but read it out loud and every time he would be like no, not out loud! Shhhh. After every person had almost read it outloud he still would not let me read it. Then he said I could go outside but If I read it in front of him he would blush.  So I go read it outside and find that he basically asked me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roses are Red&lt;br /&gt;Violets are Blue&lt;br /&gt;If you go out with me&lt;br /&gt;You would like me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think had Zach and his mothers comments not been right after that I would have totally missed the fact that he did ask me out. Might be a little cheesy but, I do not care.  I liked it and I will have it forever. I walked back in and he says, well? and I was like, Ummm Yeah. . . (yes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Ro9dwwycuUI/AAAAAAAAABA/y5KIYxCgmDo/s1600-h/PICT0089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Ro9dwwycuUI/AAAAAAAAABA/y5KIYxCgmDo/s400/PICT0089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084385596636182850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what Zach and his mom had to say about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came back and hung out at my house. We talked a good bit. He said that he had planed on asking me pretty soon but wasn't really planing on tonight. It was a spare of the moment thing. He saw the opportunity and took it and figured we were just about dating anyways.  Something to that extent. We talked about a lot of other things but I won't mention them, at least as of now.&lt;br /&gt;I am excited. He is finally mine.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2213607431206809263?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2213607431206809263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2213607431206809263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2213607431206809263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2213607431206809263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/07/kory-with-k.html' title='Kory with a K'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Ro9dwgycuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GF5ZXrabKCA/s72-c/PICT0088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2230733939658670836</id><published>2007-07-01T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T20:31:24.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have grown</title><content type='html'>to truly hate my job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost all the compassion that I use to have for these people. I have no pity for them whether they deserve it for not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This job in the last three weeks had turned me from caring to completely heartless. I don't know if it is because I am just fed up with everything or if it is time for me to get out of it or what. . . but I am not normally a heartless person and I have turned into one when it comes to this job. It has made me bitter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a residents room and was washing my hands and looked in the mirror. The only emotion I saw on my face was bitterness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job is not the only thing lately that has made me bitter. Before I left for Houston I washed all of my laundry, I just did not have them put up. The first thing I did when I came home from Houston was wash Zach and I's laundry. I went that morning and picked him up and as they finished drying we would fold them, then he was helping me get rid of some clothes. One of my necklaces got washed with the first load of clothes, so every load after that beads would fall out. My dad told me to clean up the laundry room. Why am I going to clean it up if It is only going to happen 3 more times. I can just wait and clean it up then. My dad threw a fit because I did not do it right then. As if I was not ever going to do it. Zach and I were going to get food and he was going to tan and my dad said that it was not my job to take zach to tan and there was food at the house, that I had been gone for a week and it would not kill me to stay home, that I needed to do laundry. Which I was in the process of doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is not that he just said this, he was being an ass about it. When people are an ass to me about things that I need to do then they really do not get done. It makes me depressed and bitter and unproductive. And that is what happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2230733939658670836?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2230733939658670836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2230733939658670836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2230733939658670836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2230733939658670836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-have-grown.html' title='I have grown'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-7161136205655151603</id><published>2007-06-29T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T18:48:57.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have had</title><content type='html'>a great time in Houston this week. We did a lot of things and stayed pretty cheep. I pretty much just spent money on food and gas. I spent a shit load of money on gas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got here &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt; and I pretty much headed strait to Galveston after I got here. I went and saw Kory and we went and ate at some place with sea food right on the water. It was really beautiful and the food was great. Expensive but great. fisherman's reef. . . maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive down there was one of the most frustrating drives of my life. . . no it was the most frustrating drive of my life. I felt so sick. i had no idea if I was going the right way and had never driven in Houston. I felt like I was going to vomit and we were probably a quarter way into our meal until I chilled out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive back was a lot better except I did get lost, kinda. I knew where I was but did not know where to go after that. Zach could not help me because he had to pick up his sister because she snuck out of the house and got caught by the cops. So I was lost driving down cypress wood for an hour or more. Catie finally unlost me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt; Zach took me to a Huka bar and we got mint and melon tobacco. It was interesting. Not something I could smoke all the time or four two hours which is how long it last two people. Later that night we went with Catie and James to the movies. We saw 1408 which flipped me out. I was disappointed with the ending but aside from that it was a damn good movie. It was one like the older movies that was suspenseful. It made me jump very very many times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; I went and saw Kory again. This time instead of it taking an hour and a half it took two hours. I have to say I am impressed with myself when it comes to driving in Houston. I can actually do it. Probably has a bit to do with my car. but yes, I hit the five o'clock traffic and it was lame as hell. I was not nearly as frustrated though since I knew where I was going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there I meet Kory at wall mart and we went and got on the ferry and road it. It made me a bit queezy. I enjoyed getting to talk with Kory though. He loves being on boats. I am a little worried that, well. Right now the job he is working he does not seam to be that crazy about it. He says the money he makes is not enough for the work that they get out of them. He had been talking about going back on a boat which originally he would be 28 days on and 7 off, but now it would be 14 days on and 7 off. Much of an improvement in my opinion. He seamed excited about getting hired back, which he did but today he texted me and said he was thinking about staying because his crew wanted him too. I am not so sure that would be the best reason to stay. He needs the money and would be making better money on the boats, it would be an easier job and he likes being on a boat. To me there really inst a decision to make here. From a job that he hot all the time and gets paid less to a job that gets paid more and is easier, that you would probably like more. . . however it is his job and I am not in a position and will probably never be in a position to tell him no, don't do that. Even if I were every in that position I would not tell him you should go with this one. Maybe I will get the chance to tell him what I think and it might bring up some things he hasn't though of, except I think he knows all of this. Maybe his crew means that much too him, which is fine. I just really think he would be happier with the other job. But I could be completely wrong, and he is the one that would know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip back was bad. I drove to Huntsville. Yes, got to see the statue of Sam Houston. I just got in my driving Zone and went and that was it. I was driving, listening to music and smoking and totally forgot about road signs. This time Rachel got me back to where I needed to be which was her house. It was not until 230 when I got back. It was lame as hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; we went to another movie, Mr. Brooks. That is one twisted fucked up movie. It was also at the same time really good. That was about all that happened Thursday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh we did go to a really neat little jewelry store and we were standing there talking about James and Kory. We had both been pretty emotional for one reason or another lately. He was kinda upset and I had said something about glad that Kory would be coming home Thursday and we gave each other a hug and he told me ' I am glad that you are happy." OMG, talk about a way to kill of a Nikki on her period. I could not help but cry. It makes me so happy that as much as Zach screws with me about Kory stealing his time with me away from him he is happy for me. Nothing in the world could have made me happier than that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;, today, Zach took me Ice Skating. He and I both just new I was going to bust my ass, but I did not. I think he might have been a little disappointed. I really enjoyed it but It hurt my feet. I actually got pretty fast every once in a while for it being my first time. . . I think.  And now we are driving back home. As much of a good time as I had in Houston I am definitely ready to go home. I miss my mom and dad, and Zach's mom and dad. And my room. Which is clean now. Yay! I will be so happy to go home to a clean room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Zachs little sister is the Shit. Even though she snuck out of the house and got caught. She is really sweet. Zach's mom is pretty cool too and he looks so so much like her. Aside from all this we did other little things throughout the week, we went Wall mart, Target, Zach found this awesome drink called Bawls (balls), we watched Banger sisters, went to the mall twice, saw the poor little puppies caged up in the glass windows, I almost cried. That was sad. There was this one boxer puppy who was adorable and cute and we wanted to take him home and keep him for ever and ever and watch him grow up big and strong, but he cost too much money. Sad Day. Other than that we hung out with Zachs sister and family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is about it. I have driven over 600 miles since Monday. And now I am sitting in the passenger seat typing this while Zach drives, which both of us are very happy with. Yay for breaking the law!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-7161136205655151603?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/7161136205655151603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=7161136205655151603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7161136205655151603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7161136205655151603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-had.html' title='I have had'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8051739549351241758</id><published>2007-06-27T00:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T00:09:41.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8051739549351241758?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8051739549351241758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8051739549351241758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8051739549351241758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8051739549351241758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-9106628127353673813</id><published>2007-06-26T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T00:10:50.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am sure</title><content type='html'>that you could find this post somewhere else in my blog talking about the same thing. How much I hate being single. I hate it as much as the last time I posted about it. I usually am fine but every once in a while it hits me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like when my best friend is making out in the back seat of a car and telling me about all the things that he has and I have always wanted and never had. I am not mad about it. I am very happy for him and approve very much of his choice. It is just really depressing. It is the reason I hate being around groups of people. There are always couples and it is always depressing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Zach is mad at me because I won't tell him what is wrong, but Idk, I really don't want things like that to be something that is weird between us, because it should not be. And James really is awesome and Catie. I want to put on a show and be like no, I'm fine except I am no actress. I am going to flunk beginning acting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a ton of things to write about as far as this trip to Houston. Some good some bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am going back to Galveston to see Kory again. If that throws you for a loop with the top part, not really a relationship, not like that. He likes to take things slow. . . too slow. But that is okay, I can wait. I don't even care about the sex, making out, kissing. . . just everything to slow. Being like okay, we are together. I am really scared that he might not realize how crazy about him I am. Which is why I am waiting, and really it hasn't been that long, but it feels like its been forever. I just hope he sees it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-9106628127353673813?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/9106628127353673813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=9106628127353673813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/9106628127353673813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/9106628127353673813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/am-am-sure.html' title='I am sure'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-3805852070864982512</id><published>2007-06-24T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T13:29:14.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Yesterday</title><content type='html'>or today, . . both. . was incredibly boring. I pretty much finished everything I was suppose to do by 1. I always try to get done with every thing early by default. Having Four hours with nothing to do sucks a lot. This is the first weekend that I did not have the friendly faces of Kory and Trey to come and visit me which really made my night drag. I guess I got spoiled to their company. I feel very ridiculous that I can miss him as much as I do. I have always said I get easily attached to people and this proves it. I have known him for such a short period of time yet it feels like I have known him for years. He does such cheesy little things that make me smile. Says things that I have never heard come out of any other guys mouth. Its nice to get back as much attention as you are giving. I haven't ever really had that before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I went to work and was giving my pills like normal and I came to Mrs. Bakers room. Her name plate was gone. I knew she was going to leave eventually but I had just been there Friday Morning until 2pm. All of her stuff was there then. Then I come back Saturday at 6 and its all gone and shes gone. It came as quite a shock to me. Such a short period of time. It brought me to two completely opposite conclusions. That one, I really should not be leaving because we are about to have a lot of people leaving and it is just going to make this job incredibly easy, and that two, I am glad that I am leaving because I don't think I could handle seeing all of these residents leave. Of course I have already put in my two weeks notice so I am going with the 2nd. I have also become less and less sympathetic for the residents which I think is another sign it is time to get out. Of course I listen to there problems but now it tends to go in one ear and out the other. I am not sure if I am trying to detach myself from them and I am turning myself heartless or if it is just getting old to me, but I have been known to turn off all emotions in the past when it comes to certain situations. Either way I am leaving. I am ready to leave and I will probably ball my eyes out once I do. Hopefully my leaving is on well enough terms I can go and visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-3805852070864982512?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/3805852070864982512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=3805852070864982512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3805852070864982512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3805852070864982512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/work-yesterday.html' title='Work Yesterday'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2781360633083120174</id><published>2007-06-23T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T13:57:17.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday I</title><content type='html'>put in my two weeks notice for my work. My last day will be the 6th of July. I know I will miss everyone but while I am losing the residents I am also losing the base of my stress. Also It is very hard to watch someone go completely down hill and it seams everyone is. I am ready to have a break from it though. It will be a nice pause before college starts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so ready for Monday it is unreal. I am ready to leave and go to Houston for four days. Ready for the drive there with Zach, Ready to see Kory. Ready to be away from here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a very productive day today. I got most of my laundry done and shampooed the carpet in my room and on the stairs. It is very nice to have a clean room. . . finally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2781360633083120174?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2781360633083120174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2781360633083120174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2781360633083120174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2781360633083120174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/yesterday-i.html' title='Yesterday I'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-5664156352246107376</id><published>2007-06-16T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T00:40:34.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am very</title><content type='html'>bored of this place. It is the same thing every night. I have been up for 9 hours now and feel like I have been up for 24 hours. It makes no sense. I went home and slept for 8 or more. I am ready for Zach and Kory to get here. Hoping for a certain treat from Zach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that work for me bring me to the most extreme emotions. I am either extremely happy or sad, upbeat or depressed, energetic or exhausted, and I easily swing back and forth from one to another. Right now, very tired, depressed, fairly sad. . . I have freshman orientation starting tomorrow at 1030 and I am not looking forward to it at all. I will get off at 6 and that leaves no time for actual sleep. I am afraid to look in the mirror. I am scared I will have the eyes of a dead girl. And I still have things I need to do. . . heh, I was outside laying down smoking and my phone gos off and it is a message from Kory, except I didn't really notice that part and it says I c u! And I am like what? and jump up really quick and go inside. . . he couldn't even really see me, he just could not find me. Anyways. . . going to do more work I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-5664156352246107376?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/5664156352246107376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=5664156352246107376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5664156352246107376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5664156352246107376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-am-very.html' title='I am very'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-4362095564614192162</id><published>2007-06-15T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T15:13:31.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for a rant</title><content type='html'>I am so sick of people, not all people just certain people who can not spare all the details so when I got off for Sunday for freshman orientation, no one said okay, well that means you have to work Friday night, not until five o'clock. Which means that I am going home to go to sleep tomorrow and I have to cancel my plans with my parents. Okay, just because you get off one day does not mean you have to make up for it. It means that you lose that money. If I had known that I was going to have to work tonight I would have came home and went to sleep. Now I am far from tired but i know I sure as hell will be tonight.  I work with a bunch of fucking dumb asses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-4362095564614192162?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/4362095564614192162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=4362095564614192162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/4362095564614192162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/4362095564614192162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/time-for-rant.html' title='Time for a rant'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2735583362401674282</id><published>2007-06-12T01:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T01:49:43.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kisses</title><content type='html'>Kisses Lovelys&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2735583362401674282?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2735583362401674282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2735583362401674282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2735583362401674282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2735583362401674282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/kisses.html' title='Kisses'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-3411102753734981090</id><published>2007-06-12T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T01:47:52.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just have to say</title><content type='html'>I am crazy for this guy. He is so polite, laid back, lovable, considerate. . . I can not find a negative thing about him. A single thing that I do not like. He is amazing. He is damn good looking, a little, lot in touch with his feminine side. He is outgoing and does not care what people think about him. He keeps telling me how much he likes me, I told him the other day I don't know what to do with myself, much less with him. And I don't. I can not stop thinking about him. It is so childish and ridiculous but I love it. He makes me feel good, about everything, particularly myself. He makes me happy. I like him, my parents like him and he likes me back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hung out until 3 tonight, I really enjoyed it. Tomorrow I am going to the doctor in Lufkin with him at 815. He is queasy with blood and needles so I figure maybe he might need a hand to hold. Anyways, going to bed so I can get up really early, wonder if I should even go to sleep. . . Heh. Later. Loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-3411102753734981090?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/3411102753734981090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=3411102753734981090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3411102753734981090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3411102753734981090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-just-have-to-say.html' title='I just have to say'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-6292086707656128427</id><published>2007-06-10T02:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T03:32:07.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I figure now</title><content type='html'>with me not really doing anything at work and all at the moment would be a good time to type a little something up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found a place with internet connection. The med room, you would think since that is where you can generally find me this would be the first place I would check. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At curves one of the lady's said that starving yourself would not help with losing weight. I am not starving myself, however at work I have very little time to eat and when I am at home I don't because I am trying to get as much sleep as possible. When I do eat something it is like some combos, or some mac n cheese and after a 5 or 6 bites I am back to full. I am pretty sure 5 or 6 bites of something in such a short period of time will not actually make you full. . . I think it must be a mental thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am very very tired. A little worried about driving home and quite hungry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been talking with this guy Kory. In short I have to say he is amazing. He is intellegent, open minded, kind, not to mention HOT, and I think he thinks about me as often as I do him. He sends me goofy little comments or text messages or just something checking to see how I am, how my day has been. I haven't had this much attention from a guy even when I was in a relationship with them. The only thing is I get attached to people really easily and there is a pretty good chance that in the fall he will move to Branson. I hadn't really looked at Branson and though huge career opportunity for me until now. However that will not be until after college. It might be weird that I have already looked but there are only two colleges within 50 minutes away from Branson with my majors and that are not religious. It would be hard enough to transfer at some point in time, I would have to take all kinds of test over again. . but to pick up in the fall and leave, it just really isn't an option for me.  Not now. . . later maybe even fairly soon later, but just later, it might be completely possible but fall, I just don't see it happening. I know anyone reading this would think I am jumping the gun on this, however he brought it up and it really is something to consider. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that things would work out with us and then when fall hits I could ask him to stay, except that is completely unfair, and I could not do that to him.  So now I hope that things will work out and he will reconsider his views on long distance relationships. He doesn't think they work, which is fine. I understand it not working, mine didn't but It was because of them, not me. I think that if I am strong eought, and I find someone else who is just as strong and crazy about me as I am them, then it could totally work. But that is just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its crazy, I meet him a little over a week ago. .maybe less than a week ago. . I can't really remember, but I haven't known him long. Anyways, I am getting to tired to type, and have to hand out my 6am pills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-6292086707656128427?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/6292086707656128427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=6292086707656128427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6292086707656128427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6292086707656128427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-figure-now.html' title='I figure now'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-4292796611385416789</id><published>2007-06-06T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T11:15:58.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I remembered</title><content type='html'>one of the major emotional points in the day yesterday. Sandra was going to see Sandra H's daughter. She has been sick with cancer and other things and sandra was goning after work to pick up bath and body works for her. She told me that she had accepted that she was going to die and that had asked god to forgiver her of her sins and all that. That was after supper. At 9 when Dinah left she told me that she had died that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to know what Sandra went though planing on going to see her and having to find out that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so sad that a 16 year old girl, cheerleader, healthy girl. . . would come up with a tumor for no reason. It is really amazing to me how some people can say to her mom, God touched her soul, it was her time to go. God has a plan for her. I could go on and on with this and spring all kinda controversial issues, however I think I will just stop there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you pray, pray for her mom. I know if my kid died I would need some major prayer. . . or antidepressants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-4292796611385416789?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/4292796611385416789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=4292796611385416789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/4292796611385416789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/4292796611385416789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/today-i-remembered.html' title='Today I remembered'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-239841765087185368</id><published>2007-06-06T02:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T02:27:51.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey</title><content type='html'>That was for you Kels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-239841765087185368?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/239841765087185368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=239841765087185368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/239841765087185368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/239841765087185368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/hey.html' title='Hey'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-3506783582707967513</id><published>2007-06-06T02:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T02:26:25.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have been planing on</title><content type='html'>posting my work schedule for a while. Every time a make a post something tends to happen and then well, it never happens. I realize that it is pretty pointless for me to post it here seeing as how Kelsey is the only person who really reads this and she is in Dallas, but I usually don't post for others anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fridays &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6am-2pm and then 10pm-6am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2pm-10pm and 10pm-6am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2pm-10pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any phone calls or text messages during the 10-6 shift would be great. Since I am alone the whole night and very board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the shift alright, I can wear what I want, listen to music, and I like alone time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a lot of things to talk about but now they have left my mind. Maybe for another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-3506783582707967513?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/3506783582707967513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=3506783582707967513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3506783582707967513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3506783582707967513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-been-planing-on.html' title='I have been planing on'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-7930571108479914556</id><published>2007-05-14T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T19:36:05.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The last few days</title><content type='html'>have been from one extreme to the other. I found out that I got the scholarship that I auditioned for which was great but I was so stressed from school and things that I never got that Yes! they liked it feeling. CC told me that if I didn't get it it would not mean much of anything, probably just be because they knew I was getting a different one worth more. It wouldn't stop me from actually doing theatre. As right as she was I wasn't really after the money. I mean, its great and I am glad to have gotten it, but the real reason I wanted it so bad was that I hoped my dad would see how hard I worked for it, and see that I had to compete for it, and that I got it because I am that good at what I do, and everyone sees that. More or less I got a lecture on how I need to keep my grades up because if I do not hes not going to help me pay for my college, before he would even sign it. I have to keep a 3.25 GPA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work was awful this weekend. Angelica got fired for not doing extra work and got replaced  by someone who cant even do a quarter of what her job is. Basically I ended up being Med and PSA this weekend. I mean, there was food out but no drinks or residents and Amee was having to pass out the food, which never happens. Sunday during my break I went and laid face down in the middle of the driveway. I was so warn out. The wireless phone came up missing and so I was having to literately run down the hall to answer it because we aren't suppose to let it ring more than twice, and then I had to run down to a residents room because they fell and then back to get the stuff to take B/P and Temp. On Saturday the key to the med room bent so I could not open it so I got the spare and put it on the keys. Sunday, genius me, I locked them in the med room. . . with no spare. The only other key for the room was in troop. Great huh. After 40 minutes of calling and worrying about it I went and looked in the Emergency Supplies room and found a bowl full of keys. After trying almost every key there was in there I finally found one to open it up. Both days I went to sleep right after I got home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today aside from the major headache I had all night and this morning I stayed home to catch up on homework that I didn't have time to do over the weekend. I have to say that while all I have done today is homework It has been so nice. I guess this weekend and last week were so stressful that I needed a day to just read and write and chill. I got five assignments in English done, a lab, a spanish recipe and visual, and a pre cal assignment(almost on the pre cal) finished. I feel so accomplished! And when my headache let up I washed my car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have a whole whole lot of things to do with my room. . . like clean it. I kinda destroyed it looking for something, which is how it always gets destroyed. I have to go check my cake!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-7930571108479914556?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/7930571108479914556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=7930571108479914556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7930571108479914556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7930571108479914556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/05/last-few-days.html' title='The last few days'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-3519684038657824671</id><published>2007-05-06T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T19:50:12.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had originally came here to say something, but it seams I do not have a whole lot to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this feeling that I am not in my norm and I do not know if it is good or bad or what. . . of course that means nothing to anyone reading this, assuming anyone is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then this isn't for you, its for me, so I guess it doesn't matter either way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-3519684038657824671?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/3519684038657824671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=3519684038657824671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3519684038657824671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/3519684038657824671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-had-originally-came-here-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-1231513124373610477</id><published>2007-04-25T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T22:45:08.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a test.</title><content type='html'>One more post. A test. . to see what is wrong with my page. if anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-1231513124373610477?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/1231513124373610477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=1231513124373610477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/1231513124373610477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/1231513124373610477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/04/test.html' title='a test.'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-5412370321744832978</id><published>2007-04-25T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T22:44:17.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude,</title><content type='html'>Now I am really curious as to if you can touch light or not. I mean, you can feel it, the heat coming from it, you can reflect it. Its colour is altered, not to much by touching it though, not most of the time. Then you have black from the lack of colour and white from all colour which makes not since when you paint because if I want to make black paint I mix them all together. And then all the other colours are just depending on how the light hits them. I mean, when there is no light things are black. because you cant see. But are things not a colour because you can't see in the dark or because there is not light to reflect the colour. . . or is it all the same thing. But then the colour of the light really has nothing to do with touching the light, now does it? I wonder if you have no colour, everything is black, so there is no light right. . then if you had a lot of light like an ridiculous amount of light if everything would be white. And how does this all effect people who are colour bind or just blind. I mean, if they see at all then it is just shadow and the shadows are caused from the light but that has nothing to do with colour either. But then if there is not colour and they can see shadows then light touches everything. So maybe they actors do touch the light and there is something for the audience to reach out to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you are blind, then you are just fucked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not 'hating', I will probably be blind one day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-5412370321744832978?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/5412370321744832978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=5412370321744832978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5412370321744832978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5412370321744832978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/04/dude.html' title='Dude,'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2756296424807547540</id><published>2007-04-25T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T22:17:53.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Was very nerve racking. . . I swear that my arms went numb before my audition started. I feel like I did well though. As compared to last time. . . great. Last time was really really bad though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lets start from the beginning. I wake up this morning to carol screaming about the colt being here. Yes, our beautiful Poco finally had her baby. I haven't really slowed down enough to find out what we have named it yet. The last time I heard it was between Loco  so mother and son would be poco loco, a little bit crazy. . which they are, or sky dancer, which they seam. . . shy for short. Well she had it some time last night and it got scared and ran under the electrical fence and though the bobbed wire fence. To cuts around its eye and one on. It has to have eye drops or it might go blinded, still might even with them. Other wise it is pretty okay. I cut on its leg. . . but alive and definitely kicking. Its funny. My dad can pick him up and walk around with him. . . hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my dad is looking at getting a new route because the milk business is not making a lot of profit. . just enough to get buy on. . and I go up to wall mart to pick up some paperwork, by my work to pick up a letter of recommendation and the school to see if there is a CD for me waiting.  There was. I try to print screen so I can make photos and It didn't work at all. Thank God for CC. I got to the college as fast as I could, CC helped me take captures of a show YET AGAIN and then I spend like an hour at CVS trying decide what to use. . . I wonder what CC stands for that it is not coming up as an error. I am sure that I will feel like a moron when I find out. . . Anyways, I get home and have just enough time to get those in my book and edit and print my resume and then go to the college. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the tour, skipped the class and went to the show. My audition went alright actually. Like I said numb arms, very numb arms. . it was weird and I have never had that happen before but maybe it was just nevers. I don't know what else it would be. It was a lot less people than last time which was good, and the guy that went before me kinda gave me a lot of confidence. He was never very specific about what he actually did in any show which is okay for a stage manager I guess. Then there was one guy who wants to make a triangle stage for more intimate space in theatre. I am sure that there was more to it then that but I am pretty okay with the system we have now. I mean, I triangle stage, you would have no place to put props, no place to enter and exit and no way to do any lighting with three areas, nothing creative at all. I did like the idea of the audience being able to touch the light, but even the actors hardly touch the light, they are just in it. You can cup it or look like you are but you can not move it over or spin it in circles, not without moving what contains it. At least I don't think you can. Unless you had smoke then  you can appear to be doing so. I wish I had paid more attention in high school about the colour spectrum and bending light and all that. I think hat was eight grade science. Hah! Can you imagine how many actors would turn around and walk right of the edge of a triangle stage. It might would help with all the competition a lot. I wanted to ask him why. . what he thought was wrong with what we have now. I mean, I am sure it is not flawless and there is room for change, but that is some extreme change. I just don't see it happening. From the sound of it I will probably be going to school with this guy next year. I should have gotten his name. Ill probably end up dating him or some shit, not even know because he has changed so over the summer and then four years into he'll be like okay on with the triangle stage and Ill be like WTF? that was you?! No, thats my luck luck though. Speaking of my luck, I will get to my luck in a second. I also met someone else who will be starting in the fall. She seams to be very resourceful. . . but I honestly do not have time for her and the triangle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My luck. . . good in some areas, shit in others. I have been cursed by some computer god that hates me. Its not that I am computer illiterate, I just have shit luck with computers. . good song btw. . .by modest mouse. . I like it. Well right now my problem is my laptop screen does not work, at all. Thats all I am going to say because I will just get upset over it and I don't want to. I have been putting off calling dell because I have been to stressed as is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zach was suppose to come with me to the play but could not because he had to go to Houston. Sad Day. But I did get Arrie to get dinner with me and come see the play with me. I was so glad to eat. All I had had all day was a terrible chocolate muffing from starbucks. It was very dry. . . most of there stuff is, although i would like to try one of there cookies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Play. The play was great. The only thing I would have changed was the pink lighting on the front of the stage in the beginning. Otherwise I loved it. I think Zach will regret having missed it though. It was the gayest play I have ever seen and   I mean it like fag like, not happy and not cigarette. :) Zach is still my favorite fag.  Dead silence during the two guys kissing. . I loved it! I think it was Urm. . . idk how to put it, it was very preformed to the audience, as opposed to for the audience if that makes any sense. There is a word for it and I should know it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I need to get to bed. I can feel myself getting sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2756296424807547540?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2756296424807547540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2756296424807547540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2756296424807547540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2756296424807547540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/04/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8949759175721931260</id><published>2007-04-24T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T19:05:27.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Things have been very stressful lately. My mind is in so many directions that I can not get anything done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad has managed to come up with an excuse for me staying out anywhere over night. It's a school night, It's a work night. Every night is a school or work night for me, there is not one day that I have off. As if I had ever matter before in previous years. It almost makes me want to quit my job. I honestly do not like my work. It is very repetitious and boring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that is not his excuse then its that he has work in the morning. Yes he gets up early and I have respected this for years however the dog does not get in the same fuss he use to. At night he wants to sleep and does so weather I am there or not. As far as me coming in late, well, most of the time I am sneaking outside to go smoke and that doesn't wake him up. . .or when I do come in late it doesn't wake him up. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how he will handle it when I do start to college. . . I might have said that already, I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bit excited about tomorrow. My audition. I am very disappointed in my boss who was suppose to write a letter of recommendation for me. I did finally get two of my teachers to do it today. Right now I am working on what I plan to say during my auditoin. . . I really have no idea. I would like to be working on my invitations, then again I do have all the rest of this week to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8949759175721931260?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8949759175721931260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8949759175721931260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8949759175721931260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8949759175721931260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/04/things-have-been-very-stressful-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-5636978400504368466</id><published>2007-04-13T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T20:16:12.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss</title><content type='html'>I miss my weekends. Real weekends, when I had time to do things, or do nothing. I am so past ready for school to be out it is unreal. I know it will be here before I know it but these last days have been dragging and I fear that the next 27 will seem like a year itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things have happened since the last time I posted that I can't even remember what to cover. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is alright. Not great. I have made my mistakes and hope so badly that I won't make anymore starting tomorrow. I can honestly say that I do not want to have anything to do with the medical field beyond this. I really don't even want to be doing this. I do not like the idea that I could go down the hall and find a resident sprawled out in the floor. I don't like the idea that I could give someone an overdose, miss a pill or anything of the sorts. I do not want their lives in my hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shadowing CC at SFA has been great. I love working with the instruments and with CC. Some of the college students are great. Others I wasn't nothing to do with. They are disrespectful and noisy and they just really piss me off. I know that is terrible but at some point in time you need to grow the fuck up. If I can come in there and do something I haven't ever done before then they should be able to do it if they are in the class for it. Like at least able to attempt to do it. Instead of sitting around all day eating french fries and bitching about how nothing is getting done, when all you are doing is SITTING on YOUR ASS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on . . . School, I have kinda already covered school but I can go back. Classes are okay. My GPA hasn't dropped and I think my rank went up not that I usually worry about that stuff. I won't get my pre cal credit and since I already know that I won't I am pretty care free about it. Not worrying too much. I think my teacher isn't either. A bit surprising. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than all that, i really need to clean. You can not imagine. . unless you are Zach. . . and I need to go to bed. Work at 6am. Sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-5636978400504368466?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/5636978400504368466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=5636978400504368466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5636978400504368466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5636978400504368466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-miss.html' title='I miss'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8157029648304792271</id><published>2007-03-26T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T20:10:48.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pride</title><content type='html'>Yes, For once I have pride in myself. For the past week I have been busting my ass with work, school, the play. For the past 4 days I have had 10 hours of sleep if that, Should be in bed now. Ive been going strong, getting mostly positive comments on any of my work and I am very proud of myself for it. I am however ready for things to slow down. Don't get me wrong, I deffinately want to advance, but rehersals and all just really take away from other things. I haven't had the time to take things that belong up stairs . . . up there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become a major energy drinker which I never saw coming, but its good stuff. I don't care for the crash at the end but otherwise its all good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, So i am falling asleep at the computer. Night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8157029648304792271?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8157029648304792271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8157029648304792271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8157029648304792271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8157029648304792271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/03/pride.html' title='Pride'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-7811667907457326345</id><published>2007-03-18T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T15:34:37.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About that time again.</title><content type='html'>This spring break has been far from exciting. Sitting at home, working. Aside from that I have not done a whole lot. . . and by that I mean nothing. I tried to work on the laod of Chemistry homework I have had forever, but now I am sitting up here (Java Jacks) falling asleep. My hands feel incredibly heavy. I think I will go home, go to bed and not care so much about the rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-7811667907457326345?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/7811667907457326345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=7811667907457326345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7811667907457326345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/7811667907457326345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/03/about-that-time-again.html' title='About that time again.'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8507653330426624350</id><published>2007-03-04T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T01:27:55.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Regreats</title><content type='html'>I rarely have them, but they seam to be showing up in clumps lately. Any "party" I have had lately, has either been a big flop, or just ends up depressing. People go their seperate ways and I seam to always end up alone. Its great having all my friends around but in the end I always manage wishing I hadn't done it. People either don't get along. . . or, anyways. It just sucks, and some people aren't making it any better. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Im ranting. . . I hate it when people bitch about things that people do, when they do it all the time. It's incredibly irritating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding myself in a position very similar to a pervious one, except my view is totally different. I have a chance with something I use to want, and now, I don't so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadie still hasn't came home. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8507653330426624350?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8507653330426624350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8507653330426624350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8507653330426624350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8507653330426624350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/03/regreats.html' title='Regreats'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-2372535567364555395</id><published>2007-03-02T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T16:45:30.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel sick.</title><content type='html'>Sadie is missing. We have looked everywhere we could think to and no luck. We thought it might be her going off for a little while and then finding her way back like, 30 minutes later or so. She does that. Usually thought if you call her she will come home. We even screamed cheese. It's her favorite treat. She gets all excited about it. . . I have this gut feeling she might not come back. I think Carol does too, but we could be wrong. I hope so. There isn't a dog that could replace Sadie Bug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-2372535567364555395?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/2372535567364555395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=2372535567364555395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2372535567364555395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/2372535567364555395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-feel-sick.html' title='I feel sick.'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-8617057133580608238</id><published>2007-02-27T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T18:12:09.062-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A break</title><content type='html'>I can honestly say I have been smoking myself into the ground lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can finally see my two week voyage of chaos coming to a halt, today became a day of incredible luck and closure. I did my two presentations today, both went terrible but they are over. I got my tire and top fixed for my car and I have very little homework, no work at Austin House and above all got my admission letter to SFA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I disagree with showing religious films in school and workplaces I realize that just because its religious doesn't mean that there still isn't a message in it for you. At work yesterday we watched a movie that was highly religious, however there was a part for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son plays soccer, the father is in a wheel chair. There is no soccer team at this kids school but there is football. His father suggest he try out for the team. The son does not want to because he is afraid he will not make the team. The father tells his son that he can not be afraid of failure. If he tries he has a lot to gain and nothing to lose. He would just be in the same spot he is now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very scared of being a failure. Going into the wrong studies and such. Not going to the right school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting my letter was fairly exciting, but not so much. I guess because I know I could go somewhere else, I know I could challenge myself more. At the same time here is my home. I love it, Id miss it. I really feel like I belong here, at least for now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, today has been truly excellent. A day of resolution at most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-8617057133580608238?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/8617057133580608238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=8617057133580608238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8617057133580608238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/8617057133580608238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/02/break.html' title='A break'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-5519078080915080483</id><published>2007-02-22T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T22:06:19.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>These last few days have been very challenging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most recently we had the talent show. It was the biggest disaster ever. The performances were excellent and we had a great quality. The audience was a different story. If there wasn't someone black on stage then they were talking thought the whole performance. There were two fights outside, and two girls money got stolen from the dressing rooms. It was so terrible. I have never been in such an obnoxious group of people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with that my car ran out of gas, and I have been running on very little sleep for several days. Tomorrow will make it worse. SFA all day long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not to say that everyone else days are so much better than mine. It never hurts to bitch about it every once in a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully things will slow down by next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-5519078080915080483?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/5519078080915080483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=5519078080915080483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5519078080915080483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/5519078080915080483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/02/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-868999210145823145</id><published>2007-02-15T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T19:23:06.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First day back</title><content type='html'>I'm glad to be back at Austin House. It's strange, so many people new, so many gone. The work hasn't change much but the system has. Either way, I like my job. I'm pretty tired, and still have loads of homework, and need a shower badly. Also lots of cleaning to do. I'm out for now. Can't wait for Saturday! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-868999210145823145?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/868999210145823145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=868999210145823145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/868999210145823145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/868999210145823145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/02/first-day-back.html' title='First day back'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-6183897321225661155</id><published>2007-02-11T17:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T17:17:10.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>18th Birthday</title><content type='html'>So, Saturday I went to Tyler and had lunch with my sister and her husband. My daddy took me shoping for an outfit. I had fun. It was nice just being with faimly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went and ate at king buffet with the rest of my faimly. I posted this picture because I really liked it. It's a really good picture of my faimly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--OUooA3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xS-PjMtYE-A/s1600-h/IMG_0134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--OUooA3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xS-PjMtYE-A/s400/IMG_0134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030448462062682994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the outfit that my dad and carol got for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--O0ooA4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Qi285h5xa6s/s1600-h/IMG_0115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--O0ooA4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Qi285h5xa6s/s400/IMG_0115.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030448470652617602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 'birthday cake' that the waitress brought for me. She was really sweet. I had already ate some of it thought, so not much of it got ate. And she sang happy birthday. And gave me some kind of candy, it was interesting, Carmel pretty much. . and I got an extra fortune cookie!  I like fortune cookies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--PEooA5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/ah-C_jqhqrg/s1600-h/IMG_0127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--PEooA5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/ah-C_jqhqrg/s400/IMG_0127.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030448474947584914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice birthday, I can't wait for next weekend to party out with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! and  I got my job back! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-6183897321225661155?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/6183897321225661155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=6183897321225661155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6183897321225661155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/6183897321225661155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/02/18th-birthday.html' title='18th Birthday'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hUZkzrl4zOE/Rc--OUooA3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xS-PjMtYE-A/s72-c/IMG_0134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-117029765827674046</id><published>2007-01-31T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T18:40:58.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today should have been really bad.</title><content type='html'>And I can honestly say alot of bad things happend to me today. Shitty grade in English over all. A shitty grade in BCIS. Ran out of gas in my car. Hydroplaned in my car. I feel like I could puke. But really, out after all that, It was an alright day, and things could have been so much worse. Days like today, make me happy for the normal boring days, or just the regular school days, or the weekends when I sit at home by myself and nothing at all happens. It makes me glad that days like today only happen every once in a while, and it makes me thankful that days like the day my dad had his heart attack are so rare. I wouldn't call today an eye opener or a day that bring you to some major realization. Just a day that brings you back to solid ground. Brings me back to solid ground. I mean I could be in the hospital right now, Zach could to. There were three cars in the other lane that we ended up in. Three cars spaced out that I barely missed. Then I have to call my dad, and any other kid ive seen call there parents after being in an accident has been just Oh my god what are they going to do me. I called them, my dad came and helped me out,and when I got home hes like, "are you doing something your not suppose to be doing, because when you have bad luck your usually doing something wrong" and I'm like no, and thats it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had bad luck. Sometimes it is just worse, like today. But with all this bad luck I have, I am really lucky to have the faimly and friends that I do have. I think, maybe. . When you are lucky enought to be cared for so much then its like a trade off, you lose some of the good luck in the world because you don't need it, because I see people who have good luck, could possibly get away with murder if they felt led to, but they aren't so lucky to have what I have. Its just a trade off really. It just levels everything out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I have shitty luck, but At the same time I am so lucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things could be so much worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-117029765827674046?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/117029765827674046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=117029765827674046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/117029765827674046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/117029765827674046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/today-should-have-been-really-bad.html' title='Today should have been really bad.'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-117016558295094656</id><published>2007-01-30T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T05:59:43.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams and Reality</title><content type='html'>It seams I can't tell them apart lately. My dreams are about such little things that would annoy me in reality, so I wake up thinking dammit, I can't believe I did that yesterday, then I realize I did't do it at all. Sometiems it's hard to distinguish between the two. It's becoming a little irritating. At the same time I love dreams, good, bad and annoying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-117016558295094656?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/117016558295094656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=117016558295094656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/117016558295094656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/117016558295094656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/dreams-and-reality_30.html' title='Dreams and Reality'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-116999687623251194</id><published>2007-01-28T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T07:07:56.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>running circles</title><content type='html'>I feel like I'm very behind in everything, and like I have a ton of things I need to get done. I guess because alot of them are just things that are going to take some time. I hate that I can't sit down and make myself do something. Most things I should have more of a desire to do however I don't. Things like my stuff for Theatre. It's more fun than work, I just don't care to do it. However my english is a different story. As many times as I have sat down to read that book, nothing. I can't get past the first page. It's the only thing I hate about English. Having to read books that I have no interest in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the things  need to get done, its Sunday and I havn't done a one of them. I don't really know why. I havn't seen any of my friends so it's not that I haven't had the time. I made a pair of moccisons this weekend. . . Didn't take long though. I guess either way I am just Lazy. I don't take pride in it and am acutally feeling like doing something now, like cleaning. I need to clean. . . I can't really do the Theatre things untill my room is clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-116999687623251194?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/116999687623251194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=116999687623251194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116999687623251194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116999687623251194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/running-circles_28.html' title='running circles'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-116999685622110188</id><published>2007-01-28T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T07:07:54.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>running circles</title><content type='html'>I feel like I'm very behind in everything, and like I have a ton of things I need to get done. I guess because alot of them are just things that are going to take some time. I hate that I can't sit down and make myself do something. Most things I should have more of a desire to do however I don't. Things like my stuff for Theatre. It's more fun than work, I just don't care to do it. However my english is a different story. As many times as I have sat down to read that book, nothing. I can't get past the first page. It's the only thing I hate about English. Having to read books that I have no interest in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the things  need to get done, its Sunday and I havn't done a one of them. I don't really know why. I havn't seen any of my friends so it's not that I haven't had the time. I made a pair of moccisons this weekend. . . Didn't take long though. I guess either way I am just Lazy. I don't take pride in it and am acutally feeling like doing something now, like cleaning. I need to clean. . . I can't really do the Theatre things untill my room is clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-116999685622110188?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/116999685622110188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=116999685622110188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116999685622110188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116999685622110188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/running-circles.html' title='running circles'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-116979101090403253</id><published>2007-01-25T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T21:56:51.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suggestion</title><content type='html'>Tonight I found all my slides of past artwork I sen't in over the last two years. Without really thinking about it I slowly looked throgh them and picked out the ones I felt were best, and put them togather. In the end there sat 24 slides of my better work, and 24 of work that should have never been sent in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my sophmore year Mrs. Blount gave us two options and a reason for each. One was to turn in a portfolio two years in a row, the first year learning a bit from how you scored and improving apon it. The other was to wait and have two years of work and pick the best, because you will be less likely to rush and just have more to choose from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had went with the second option. However looking back on them and being able to pick thought them and see all of my best work togather is just as, or if not more so rewarding as getting a 3,4, or 5 on a portfolio based on three or four peoples opinions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else who has more than one portfolio, or just alot of wrok alltogather, I suggest you do the same as I did some time. Perticularly before going to any portfolio reviews. Remember that just becasue you did alot of work does not mean that they have to see all of it. *and of couse colleges love sketch books!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-116979101090403253?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/116979101090403253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=116979101090403253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116979101090403253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116979101090403253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/suggestion.html' title='Suggestion'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-116921325413361075</id><published>2007-01-19T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T05:27:35.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel likIe crap</title><content type='html'>I do. I feel like my throat has swolen up and surrounded my head, and is trying to go back down adn take everything its surrouning with it. I know right now would be a good time to be at school, but I can hardly move my head. I hate to let my exemtions slip away like that, but I really can't even bring myself to care right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Honoree is this weekend. I have to say that Casey is by far a better date than Chris was, and we havn't even went yet. Not that I'm bashing Chris, he was an alright date, better than all the dates I never had for. . . urm. . untill now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been in an interesting mood lately. More creative, and having a much larger desire to read, and play video game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to lay down before I fall face first onto my keyboard, leaving yall with some unknown message. . . to all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-116921325413361075?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/116921325413361075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=116921325413361075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116921325413361075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116921325413361075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2007/01/feel-likie-crap.html' title='Feel likIe crap'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36269823.post-116285291836185370</id><published>2006-11-06T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T14:42:01.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>Finally I got this to work, I don't know if Ive just been off my game, or what but I havent been able to do anything with HTML that I want to lately. So, since this is working now I think Ill just let it Stay how it is for now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, This is all my old art work. I dont know if ill put up any new art work since Im not really doing any, but Ill critique everyone elses. And Yall can critique my old stuff If you want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36269823-116285291836185370?l=inkheartdesign.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/feeds/116285291836185370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36269823&amp;postID=116285291836185370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116285291836185370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36269823/posts/default/116285291836185370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://inkheartdesign.blogspot.com/2006/11/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>Nikki Jay</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
