<?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-37152923</id><updated>2011-10-10T11:08:59.275-04:00</updated><category term='afterlife'/><category term='So You Think You Can Dance'/><category term='Women&apos;s Rights'/><category term='men vs. women'/><category term='Stories'/><category term='Musings'/><category term='pro-life'/><category term='Comic Relief'/><category term='sororities'/><category term='the common factor in all these situation is you'/><category term='Sex Trade'/><category term='bitch fights'/><category term='do clothes die'/><category term='guys vs. girls'/><category term='Kamathipura'/><category term='pro-choice'/><category term='Favorite Dancer'/><category term='Human Rights Violation'/><category term='Jeanine Mason'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Random Ramblings'/><category term='Stoning'/><category term='ghosts'/><category term='college girls'/><category term='I wonder'/><category term='Sex Trafficking'/><category term='Stoning of Soraya M.'/><category term='look to what you are doing wrong firls'/><category term='Pain'/><category term='where did she get that ball in the afterlife?'/><category term='Lists'/><category term='college life'/><title type='text'>The Wandering Thoughts of the Wind</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-6924380173447433454</id><published>2011-10-01T12:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T12:59:39.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We are mistaken</title><content type='html'>The ability to handle a problem doesn't have anything to do with age. It has to do with a) having faced that problem before, b) having known someone who has faced it before, or c) have enough life experience to conjecture a possible way to face a problem.&lt;br /&gt;A 30 year old may have only as much life experience as another 10 year old on how to handle something. Let's not confused age with maturity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-6924380173447433454?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/6924380173447433454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=6924380173447433454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6924380173447433454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6924380173447433454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/10/we-are-mistaken.html' title='We are mistaken'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8506802958634484862</id><published>2011-07-30T09:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T09:53:39.499-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men vs. women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guys vs. girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitch fights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sororities'/><title type='text'>Ashamed to be a Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Fraternities are normal for men. You put five hundred guys in one room for long enough, and soon, most of them are bonding over Xbox or Football or whatever it is guys bond over. You do the same thing with a group of women- not five hundred, but even just 5, and soon bitch fights break out.&lt;br /&gt;Four of the girls find something they can't stand about the fifth girl, and soon everyone is bonding over their mutual hatred of the fifth girl. Fights break out over the smallest things like who's turn it is to do the dishes, who cleaned the bathroom last, and who needs to buy toilet paper this time.&lt;br /&gt;I kid you not: a good friend of mine's apartment mates had a fight over who's turn it was to buy toilet paper. The girl who had bought it the last couple of times decided she wasn't going to do it anymore, bought a role, and just put it in her room so that no one else in the house had toilet paper. Did her roommates finally realize that they needed to contribute something to the incredibly small toilet paper sum so that the fight would be over? No. They, in turn, bough their own rolls of toilet paper and put them in their own individual rooms.&lt;br /&gt;It's moments like these when I am truly ashamed to be a woman.&lt;br /&gt;What is it about us that just makes it so difficult to get along with other members of our gender? Whether its sisters or best friends, roommates or cousins, women never seem to have the same good-natured, grounded relationships with each other that men have.&lt;br /&gt;And in an era where we are trying to prove that we are no less intelligent, no less strong, no less powerful, and no less human than men are, it is surprising that we can't get over this seeming base-instinct of ours.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8506802958634484862?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8506802958634484862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8506802958634484862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8506802958634484862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8506802958634484862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/07/ashamed-to-be-woman.html' title='Ashamed to be a Woman'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1505570060093891095</id><published>2011-05-28T17:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T17:28:23.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Positive Thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;It's time to stop asking for what we don't want, and start to ask for what we DO want. It's time to stop being afraid of things, and start asking for things that will help us overcome our fears. It's time to believe that there are good things in all people, time to trust that everyone does things with the best of intentions. It's time to notice the beauty in everything, and pay attention to the joy in every moment.&lt;br /&gt;It's time to think positively.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1505570060093891095?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1505570060093891095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1505570060093891095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1505570060093891095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1505570060093891095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/05/power-of-positive-thinking.html' title='The Power of Positive Thinking'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-954616816038340564</id><published>2011-05-27T23:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T23:43:24.352-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dream Car- Aston Martin One-77</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/Yb_XDDrtSc4/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yb_XDDrtSc4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yb_XDDrtSc4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-954616816038340564?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/954616816038340564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=954616816038340564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/954616816038340564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/954616816038340564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-dream-car-aston-martin-one-77.html' title='My Dream Car- Aston Martin One-77'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-3955261281040642019</id><published>2011-05-12T00:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T16:26:02.402-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mann Chandre Nu Raas Na Aave</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZOvLqWdhhBk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-3955261281040642019?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/3955261281040642019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=3955261281040642019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3955261281040642019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3955261281040642019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/05/mann-chandre-nu-raas-na-aave.html' title='Mann Chandre Nu Raas Na Aave'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ZOvLqWdhhBk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8432112587849716978</id><published>2011-05-01T22:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T22:10:04.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One word is all it takes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The more and more I look at fashion magazines, mannequins, girls next door, even the new Duchess...the more I am forced to ask the question: why is it so attractive to be stick thin? The french girls who live next door to me in college, for instance, don't look very different in shape from the french boys, except for the fact that they have long hair and are a little shorter.&lt;br /&gt;I understand the concept that women are supposed to represent frailty- but at what cost? Why should a woman be frail? We have replaced the softness of a woman with hard edges, and now we want to make those edges seem vulnerable. Why?&lt;br /&gt;90% of girls with eating disorders have Anorexia. I know several of my friends who are anorexic, who actually don't eat for days. "I'll eat when I want to," says Angela...but I'm sure she has to want to more than twice or thrice a week!&lt;br /&gt;It is all this pressure to look beautiful, to look like people in the magazines. But I need at least one man to come out there and say that bony women are unattractive. That's all it would take for all of us to stop obsessing about our weight and just be healthy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8432112587849716978?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8432112587849716978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8432112587849716978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8432112587849716978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8432112587849716978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/05/one-word-is-all-it-takes.html' title='One word is all it takes'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8453011078896843010</id><published>2011-05-01T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T22:02:56.145-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fa;wcnzxldkfs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;When you begin to tear everything apart, you begin to believe you can see through everything. But there are some things in life that don't make sense, and aren't meant to make sense. There are some people in the world you cannot convince, and some arguments you just cannot win.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8453011078896843010?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8453011078896843010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8453011078896843010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8453011078896843010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8453011078896843010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/05/fawcnzxldkfs.html' title='fa;wcnzxldkfs'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4710866749131686734</id><published>2011-04-22T22:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T22:13:36.689-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pro-life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pro-choice'/><title type='text'>Beat of its Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I just found out today that a fetus develops a heartbeat in 18 days. It starts pumping on it's own in 21 days with a blood type that is different from it's mother's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/6vsS-ljcCUU/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6vsS-ljcCUU&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6vsS-ljcCUU&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's completely changed how I see the pro-life/ pro-choice debate. Before, I thought that it was ridiculous that anyone could take away the rights of a mother to abort her own child, something that she has made and is allowing to grow inside her, altering her body in a myriad of ways.&lt;br /&gt;But now that I think about it, my mother does not own me. She may have given me room in her uterus to grow for 9 months, but she does not own me. I am my own person. And I am sure that I was my own person the moment I was created.&lt;br /&gt;I still believe that a woman has the right to choose to have an abortion until the third trimester, because that baby cannot survive on it's own outside the mother's womb before that point. And I will continue to argue in favor of women who choose abortions. I think that it is far more humane to abort a fetus that would be born into a family which does not want it. It would be far more humane to abort a fetus whose mother is not emotionally stable enough to raise it. It would be far more humane to abort a fetus that is unwelcome to the world.&lt;br /&gt;I now think, however, that women should not be allowed to have abortions simply as a substitute for birth control. It should be a responsible decision.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4710866749131686734?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4710866749131686734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4710866749131686734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4710866749131686734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4710866749131686734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/04/beat-of-its-heart.html' title='Beat of its Heart'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-9176033548363154742</id><published>2011-04-20T21:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T21:59:20.267-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets blame Loreal first</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The Indian woman tries to be American. The stereotypes of beauty neither match her genes nor her lifestyle. She finds that having boobs and a butt is a&amp;nbsp;hindrance&amp;nbsp;and tries to get rid of both. Here are a list of things that make this situation absolutely ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Indian woman is expected to marry by 25 and produce children. The American woman is not.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Indian woman is modest and cannot walk around in gym shorts and a running bra. The American woman can, and will.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Indian woman is not allowed to engage in athletics in the sun, because being dark is a flaw. The American woman lives to tan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Indian women come from a heredity of wearing saris that cover all the "problem" areas of the body. The American woman comes from an ancestry of Corsets that have permanently altered her body type to a certain structure.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, having all these most basic things in consideration, I think we can adequately say that it is unrealistic to expect the two to be the same. Besides, the obvious fact is that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just because Loreal and Femina came together one day and decide to sell their cosmetics to the Indian subcontinent does not mean that beauty never existed there before these guys arrived( 20 years ago)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-9176033548363154742?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/9176033548363154742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=9176033548363154742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/9176033548363154742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/9176033548363154742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/04/lets-blame-loreal-first.html' title='Lets blame Loreal first'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4802264939154954849</id><published>2011-03-03T16:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T16:32:06.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what a douchebag</title><content type='html'>Sitting here in Clemons library, overhearing a Chinese dude being interviewed about his views on Chinese girls in America. Can I just say, TOTALLY and COMPLETELY Misogynistic? He sitting here saying that all these girls are either a) incredibly sexually active or b) trying to "imprison" their boyfriends with their "virginity." He's like, "yeah they wait off to get married till their 26...so they have all these...'experiences.'"&lt;br /&gt;I mean, where does this guy get off being so judgmental?&lt;br /&gt;He actually said, and I kid you not, that most chinese couples don't know anything about contraception- rather in his words "contraceptives." WOW. Just WOW. &lt;br /&gt;And keeps throwing in words like "socialist acts" and "fierce competition"...just to confuse the reporter who keeps giggling (she's a girl) and squirming. I hate to be listening in like this, but I am in a library and they ARE supposed to be quiet. &lt;br /&gt;If only I could walk over and give him a piece of my mind. If only.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4802264939154954849?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4802264939154954849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4802264939154954849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4802264939154954849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4802264939154954849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-douchebag.html' title='what a douchebag'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-2287281181487091984</id><published>2011-02-28T17:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T18:40:32.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When a Heart Breaks no It Don't Break Even</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="540" height="290" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9yZ1uI5yPbY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-2287281181487091984?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/2287281181487091984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=2287281181487091984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2287281181487091984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2287281181487091984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/good-ol-tunes-of-last-decade.html' title='When a Heart Breaks no It Don&apos;t Break Even'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/9yZ1uI5yPbY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1705186802940625345</id><published>2011-02-26T18:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T14:04:02.213-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kamathipura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex Trafficking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Human Rights Violation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex Trade'/><title type='text'>Worst Human Rights Violation on Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;You're looking at a $10 BILLION industry where girls are kidnapped and forced into prostitution from all over the world. To date, Kamathipura (in Mumbai) is the largest red light district in the ENTIRE WORLD. This is not like any place else in the world, however, because NOWHERE ELSE on Earth are girls as young as 7 abducted and held against their will in tiny holes in the house so that police don't find them. NOWHERE ELSE in the world are they fed as little as once a day, if that, and forced to have abortions without anesthesia. NOWHERE ELSE in the world is the rate of HIV/AIDS 30% among all prostitutes and spreading!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to talk about India turning into a developed country? Is THIS how developed nations behave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BV5W6F4L5i8" title="YouTube video player" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell is here on Earth, where we are not looking out for the most vulnerable of beings. What if this was your child, your sister, your mother?&lt;br /&gt;The question is this: what are you going to do about it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1705186802940625345?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1705186802940625345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1705186802940625345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1705186802940625345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1705186802940625345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/worst-human-rights-violation-on-earth.html' title='Worst Human Rights Violation on Earth'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/BV5W6F4L5i8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-7949181484670638537</id><published>2011-02-25T17:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T17:15:25.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Quote</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;“No biblical hell could ever be worse than the state of perpetual inconsequence.” –Dangerous Beauty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-7949181484670638537?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/7949181484670638537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=7949181484670638537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7949181484670638537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7949181484670638537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/blog-post.html' title='Favorite Quote'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8883919350784283751</id><published>2011-02-19T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T16:45:11.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Rapping in Indian Music</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The power of Rap music comes from angst, one of the strongest of emotions. The slur of the words, the punch of the beat...all of it matters. The watered down version presently done in Indian (esp filmy Indian) music is somewhat annoying. I guess this goes down on the list with unrealistic London-NRI stories, and unrealistic dream song sequences...the music too is quite "wannabe"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8883919350784283751?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8883919350784283751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8883919350784283751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8883919350784283751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8883919350784283751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-rapping-in-indian-music.html' title='Happy Rapping in Indian Music'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5589920743290195619</id><published>2011-02-18T13:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T22:18:59.868-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishlist of Everywhere I want to go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Great Barrier Reef, Australia&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vSY9OrcmeOQ/TV8z4kB5wOI/AAAAAAAABic/adMY0ed0nbM/s1600/great-barrier-reef-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vSY9OrcmeOQ/TV8z4kB5wOI/AAAAAAAABic/adMY0ed0nbM/s320/great-barrier-reef-02.jpg" width="242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pyramids at Giza, Egypt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCEZS0wBtiU/TV80G0ZkDaI/AAAAAAAABig/F5-3Y1i_pdk/s1600/755693-Sphinx-Pyramids_of_Giza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCEZS0wBtiU/TV80G0ZkDaI/AAAAAAAABig/F5-3Y1i_pdk/s320/755693-Sphinx-Pyramids_of_Giza.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Venice, Italy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-26idg2M7W7A/TV80UyX94TI/AAAAAAAABik/v2xDNLz2fcA/s1600/gondola-venice-italy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-26idg2M7W7A/TV80UyX94TI/AAAAAAAABik/v2xDNLz2fcA/s320/gondola-venice-italy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Amazon Rainforest, South America&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IkvOjZs6uXY/TV80j93N95I/AAAAAAAABio/OhR3iDAfwGg/s1600/waterfall-in-amazon-forest-080801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IkvOjZs6uXY/TV80j93N95I/AAAAAAAABio/OhR3iDAfwGg/s320/waterfall-in-amazon-forest-080801.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kalahari Desert, Botswana-Namibia-South Africa&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Qa6UKGd-wo/TV80w-6YF5I/AAAAAAAABis/QU2gLdARV2Y/s1600/Kalahari+Desert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Qa6UKGd-wo/TV80w-6YF5I/AAAAAAAABis/QU2gLdARV2Y/s320/Kalahari+Desert.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vatican City, Italy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dpni_RHcRhE/TV81TjQm5JI/AAAAAAAABi4/3XUC3caPJks/s1600/Basilica+Vaticana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dpni_RHcRhE/TV81TjQm5JI/AAAAAAAABi4/3XUC3caPJks/s320/Basilica+Vaticana.jpg" width="262" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Santorini, Greece&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fD4NHHUEty4/TV81bfySA1I/AAAAAAAABi8/AJo6HV5F6zs/s1600/Fira-SantoriniGreece.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fD4NHHUEty4/TV81bfySA1I/AAAAAAAABi8/AJo6HV5F6zs/s320/Fira-SantoriniGreece.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pamukkale, Turkey&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxfuRmQOXFk/TV81l28ytOI/AAAAAAAABjA/Y9jYXXzteag/s1600/pamukkale1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="246" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxfuRmQOXFk/TV81l28ytOI/AAAAAAAABjA/Y9jYXXzteag/s320/pamukkale1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chichen Itza, Mexico&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85QacZhKjN0/TV81wLUQcWI/AAAAAAAABjE/0y-MJnrSSso/s1600/RuinsChichenitza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85QacZhKjN0/TV81wLUQcWI/AAAAAAAABjE/0y-MJnrSSso/s320/RuinsChichenitza.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Easter Island, Chile&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4SAnbAgfbaY/TV815YAoutI/AAAAAAAABjI/JzxXc0gxnBs/s1600/Easter-Island2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4SAnbAgfbaY/TV815YAoutI/AAAAAAAABjI/JzxXc0gxnBs/s320/Easter-Island2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Machu Pichu, Peru&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XQQ9GNg0_yU/TV82CYV1ITI/AAAAAAAABjM/LT1s2CR1Vjo/s1600/machu-picchu-peru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="286" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XQQ9GNg0_yU/TV82CYV1ITI/AAAAAAAABjM/LT1s2CR1Vjo/s320/machu-picchu-peru.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yosemite National Park, United States&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-atkrw7gC2kk/TV82Vm8WV3I/AAAAAAAABjQ/EWHUNSni6zQ/s1600/yosemite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-atkrw7gC2kk/TV82Vm8WV3I/AAAAAAAABjQ/EWHUNSni6zQ/s1600/yosemite.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5589920743290195619?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5589920743290195619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5589920743290195619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5589920743290195619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5589920743290195619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/wishlist-of-everywhere-i-want-to-go.html' title='Wishlist of Everywhere I want to go!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vSY9OrcmeOQ/TV8z4kB5wOI/AAAAAAAABic/adMY0ed0nbM/s72-c/great-barrier-reef-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5377628399406647689</id><published>2011-02-15T17:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T17:35:59.291-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coconuts taste bad even if your boyfriend likes them.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I would just like to know why people in relationships always want to bring their significant other into the conversation event when they're not invited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you say "how was your day today?" they say "it was great, I had lunch with my boyfriend."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You ask, "what are you opinions about coconuts?" they say "I love them, but my fiancé hates them."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You ask, "what are you doing over spring break?" they say "oh I'm going to New York."You say "oh that's awesome; I love New York." They say, "yeah, my boyfriend has an apartment there and I'm helping him move in."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? I just want to know why? Why don't people act this way about their grandparents or their cousins?&lt;br /&gt;You won't ever find someone to say "yeah, I love honeysuckles but my cousin hates the smell." You would never find that! Somehow people just assume that you want to know their boyfriends' and fiancés' opinions about EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;It's like, okay, I get it, you're in a relationship. I don't really care what your husband thinks about turquoise or why he didn't want to take you to the Mexico. All I want to know is whether you repainted your house or whether you'll be in town in December.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5377628399406647689?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5377628399406647689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5377628399406647689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5377628399406647689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5377628399406647689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/coconuts-taste-bad-even-if-your.html' title='Coconuts taste bad even if your boyfriend likes them.'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1647137269308006150</id><published>2011-02-09T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T17:51:04.390-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='look to what you are doing wrong firls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the common factor in all these situation is you'/><title type='text'>College Girls make the same mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;There is a common mistake that college-age girls make and wonder why it is that they never have a serious relationship with a guy.&lt;br /&gt;Girls, think back to your high school days. Was it really that hard to be in a relationship with a guy? Probably not. So, why is it harder in college?&lt;br /&gt;The immediate response that most girls give me is: "well, college guys are just plain more interested in sex than dating," or "no one in college really looks for anything serious," or worse, "I don't know maybe I just repel guys who actually want a relationship.:&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that some of these reasons aren't true for some guys. Sure, there may be a lot of guys who really are just interested in hooking up with as many girls as they can. And of course, lots of people want to focus on school and don't want anything serious. Maybe some girls really do repel guys who want a relationship. But how likely are any of these reasons?&lt;br /&gt;If you ask most of our parents, the most serious relationships they were in were when they were in college. So, what makes us any different from them.&lt;br /&gt;From what I've seen, I think there are some common mistakes that these girls make. They're pretty easy to spot from a 3rd person outsider point of view; but, maybe they're not so obvious when these girls are in the situation themselves.&lt;br /&gt;For the sake of this explanation, let's take the typical college-age girl, and let's call her Jane.&lt;br /&gt;Jane's mindset when she comes to college is to explore the next stage of her life, career-wise, in terms of friends, and of course, romantically as well.&lt;br /&gt;As a freshman year student, maybe Jane is so excited to be in college that she goes to a few Frat parties (like all Freshman) and messes around with a few guys. She is excited by the fact that guys in college are so forward, and ready to compliment her on her good looks and charm. Never mind that they're probably a little drunk from the copious amounts of cheap alcohol they've been drinking. Of course, they're nicer than high school boys, she thinks. So, when a guy# 1 (let's call him Joe) wants to hook up with her, she consents. She is a little tipsy at the time in which she consents, but still thinks she's sober enough to make rational decisions. In fact, she is so sober enough that she even remembers to get his number at the party. Joe seems like a swell guy and even says that he really likes her and that they should "hang out again sometime." Unfortunately for Jane, Joe is going on study abroad the next day, as he breaks to her in the last minute as he is walking her home. He won't be back till next semester. He'll be in Argentina, though. So, Jane should text him her email address and they'll keep in touch.&lt;br /&gt;Joe never calls back.&lt;br /&gt;The next weekend Jane goes to the same frat and sees Joe there. Big surprise, he's hitting on another poor first year girl. Jane can't control her anger or her tears. So, she turns around and heads back to the dorms. She calls her friend the next morning and tells her that she can't believe what happened. She hates Frat guys and will never let something like this happen ever again. Jane vows never to go to a Frat ever again.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;A year goes by, and sure Jane has met many great guys, but doesn't trust herself to get too flirty o too attached. She says that she's waiting for the right guy, In fact, she's friends with a guy named Mike, who seems really great. They're just really good friends, though, Jane thinks. But she can't get over how cute he is. Too back Mike has a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Mike and Jane go out sometimes with the rest of their group of friends. However, being cooler Sophomores, they only go to house parties. Jane thinks this is safer because friends of friends must be nice guys. She meets a guy there named Dan.&lt;br /&gt;Dan flirts with Jane all night and offers to walk her home. Outside her apartment, they sit on the bench and start making out. Dan asks if Jane wants to go over to his place. Since he is such a nice guy, Jane says "yes." They hook up.&lt;br /&gt;The next day Jane sees Dan in her Psychology class. He waves and she goes over and sits next to them. Soon, they become study-buddies and start spending a lot of time together. Dan is clearly into her, Jane thinks. He flirts with her all the time, and always tells her how she looks nice. So, one night when they are at another party, Jane tries to kiss him. But Dan back away. He says that he knew what happened at the party and that it was a mistake, because he has a girlfriend back home. He would feel really bad if he cheated on her. Dan says how much he respects Jane's friendship and still wants to be friends. But he's just not in the right place for a relationship right now.&lt;br /&gt;Jane is furious, but doesn't really know what to do. She is mad at herself for letting herself get so attached to Dan.&lt;br /&gt;She goes back home that night, in tears and calls her best friend on the phone to say how stupid she thinks guys are, and how she hates all of them.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Jane is older now, a Junior, and much wiser. She promises herself that this year is going to be the year that it happens. She is finally going to meet that wonderful guy who is going to sweep her off of her feet. Too bad, no one told Jane that real life is not a Fairy Tale.&lt;br /&gt;One night, her good friend Mike calls her over to come hang out with him at his place. It's the beginning of a new year, and Jane knows that Mike had broken up with his girlfriend over the summer. She is super excited, because Mike is clearly cute, and whether or not he is into her, she really likes him because he is a good friend.&lt;br /&gt;So, she goes over. Being the first weekend back at school, there are tons of parties. So, they party hop from one place to another. Eventually they both get so drunk that they start making out and end up hooking up. The next morning, Mike walks Jane back to her house.&lt;br /&gt;Jane thinks that this is perfect, but doesn't know if Mike wants anything serious. However, he keeps texting her and calling her....certainly flirting with her. One weekend, when nothing in terms of parties was really going on, Jane was doing homework, when Mike called.&lt;br /&gt;He told her how he's scared because he is too attracted to her and asks if he can see her right away. He comes over to pick her up and they go back to his place. They have sex.&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Jane IMs him. He's being super nice to her, and making jokes, but the thing Jane really wants to ask is what he thinks of her. Jane finally gets the guts to do this and asks. However, Mike shocks the hell out of her by saying that yes, he likes her and yes, he's very very attracted to her but just isn't "feeling romantic" right now. He says that he's not really at a "point in his life" where he is "looking for anything serious."&lt;br /&gt;Jane is hurt.&lt;br /&gt;She can't believe that he would risk losing their friendship just for a one-night stand. Jane can't believe he thinks that she would agree to being a friend-with-benefits. Did he really think that she was "that kind of girl"?&lt;br /&gt;Jane runs into mike everywhere because they are in the same circle of friends. She hates it and stops hanging out with their group.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Jane is a Senior. This is her last shot, she thinks. Someone has to ask her out. I mean, what was really wrong with her anyway? Wasn't she pretty and smart and fun to be with? Why couldn't she be in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;Senior year end, and still she is single.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Poor Jane, if only someone had explained her faults to her.&lt;br /&gt;**********************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, there are some things that Jane commonly does that allows guys, even nice ones, to take advantage of her.&lt;br /&gt;She lets herself be the slut, thinking that "that's what girls too." She becomes too easy, and always hooks up with the guy and expects for a relationship to come out of it.&lt;br /&gt;Also, all of her romantic encounters happen at parties, in the dark, when she is drunk.&lt;br /&gt;So, really, if Jane asks what is wrong with her, the answer is simple: she makes all the wrong choices.&lt;br /&gt;She goes after all the wrong guys, who think that she is too easy to take advantage of. And there is no reason to be angry that, say, Mike thought she was the "friend with benefits" type girl, because really, she has never been in a&amp;nbsp;relationship- yet she is not a virgin. So, why wouldn't Mike think that?&lt;br /&gt;I hate to bee the heartless person in this situation, but Jane, you need to understand that the only common factor in all your romantic encounters is you. So, if the same thing happens over and over again, and you somehow seem to run into the same guy over and over again, that's because YOU are doing all the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;A guy you have known for 1-2 years maybe a good friend, but he is still a recent friend. So, you can't go around being mad at every guy you meet for the rest of your life. A little introspection....maybe try meeting someone when they are sober....maybe don't hook up with guy the first time you meet him.....maybe don't be the "rebound girl."&lt;br /&gt;All of these things are so obvious to the outside observer.&lt;br /&gt;If you just step out of your box, you will see what I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1647137269308006150?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1647137269308006150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1647137269308006150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1647137269308006150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1647137269308006150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/college-girls-make-same-mistakes.html' title='College Girls make the same mistakes'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8083813465992914379</id><published>2011-02-05T11:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T11:37:59.807-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;An angel who falls from grace is never forgiven. The one-time fault is pointed to his face like a blood stained dagger; no amount of water can wash the blood out. Everyone waits, waits for him to commit the fault again and again.&lt;/div&gt;Eventually, he thinks that he is no better. He commits the same faults again and again. He is stuck in an endless spiral. Soon enough he can't see himself in the mirror, for a scarlet letter "F" for "Failure" has been branded to his face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtW_7HQPNig/TU18xDuEpAI/AAAAAAAABhI/KrAVAXfGjd8/s1600/6a00d8341bffb053ef0105359f7cda970c-500wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtW_7HQPNig/TU18xDuEpAI/AAAAAAAABhI/KrAVAXfGjd8/s320/6a00d8341bffb053ef0105359f7cda970c-500wi.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;He can't act like he normally does. He can't speak like he normally does. He needs to act like nothing is wrong. It is painful. He needs to partake in the banter of his life, knowing with every excruciating joke he makes that he has screwed up. He knows he can make it better; he knows he can fix things...but will everyone wait for him? Will everyone wait for him to fix things? He knows the answer. They will not. &lt;br /&gt;They still give him pointed glares, and whisper in hushed circles when he is around. What is the point? &lt;br /&gt;Staring at the dagger in his hand, he asks again: What is the point? Flash-forwarding to the endless disappointment to surround his life, he closes his eyes and jams the dagger in his gut. &lt;br /&gt;It will get better. It will get better very soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8083813465992914379?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8083813465992914379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8083813465992914379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8083813465992914379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8083813465992914379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/02/fall.html' title='A Fall'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtW_7HQPNig/TU18xDuEpAI/AAAAAAAABhI/KrAVAXfGjd8/s72-c/6a00d8341bffb053ef0105359f7cda970c-500wi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5486221385053992674</id><published>2011-01-29T18:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T18:09:56.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember Me</title><content type='html'>This is one of the best art films in recent times. The story is simple: Tell the ones you love that you love them, because you never know what turn of fate will make it impossible to say so in the future. Robert Pattinson, who plays "Typer," has outdone himself playing an incredibly complex character, glaringly different than his "Edward" in the Twilight series. Emilie de Ravin ("Allie") is also perfect for the role. The mutual awkwardness between Pattinson and deRavin has translated on screen, making their chemistry electric. &lt;br /&gt;Added to the mix is the fantastic Pierce Brosnan, who we can see in a much different light than the James Bond series. &lt;br /&gt;A must watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="340" height="190" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/IMBfTdm9ALk" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5486221385053992674?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5486221385053992674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5486221385053992674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5486221385053992674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5486221385053992674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/01/remember-me.html' title='Remember Me'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/IMBfTdm9ALk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-3233942549329514290</id><published>2011-01-11T16:17:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T17:08:07.662-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stoning of Soraya M.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women&apos;s Rights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stoning'/><title type='text'>The Stoning of Soraya M.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWbdn5YfMJs?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWbdn5YfMJs?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="440" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The opposite of love is not hate. It's indifference.&lt;br /&gt;The opposite of art is not ugliness. It's indifference.&lt;br /&gt;The opposite of faith is not heresy. It's indifference.&lt;br /&gt;And the opposite of life is not death. It's indifference."&lt;br /&gt;- Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor and author of "Night."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-3233942549329514290?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/3233942549329514290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=3233942549329514290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3233942549329514290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3233942549329514290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/01/stoning-of-soraya-m.html' title='The Stoning of Soraya M.'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-7111017639471982577</id><published>2011-01-10T18:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T17:07:34.022-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Dancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So You Think You Can Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeanine Mason'/><title type='text'>Jeanine Mason- just fantastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tc_nnkZsMMc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tc_nnkZsMMc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song: "If It Kills Me" by Jason Mraz&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics to this Song:&lt;br /&gt;If I should be so bold, I'd ask you to hold my heart in your hand&lt;br /&gt;Tell you from the start how I've longed to be your man&lt;br /&gt;But I never said a word I guess I'm gonna miss my chance again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well all I really want to do is love you&lt;br /&gt;A kind much closer than friends use&lt;br /&gt;But I still can't say it after all we've been through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I really want from you is to feel me&lt;br /&gt;As the feeling inside keeps building&lt;br /&gt;And I will find a way to you if it kills me, if it kills me, if it kills me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-7111017639471982577?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/7111017639471982577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=7111017639471982577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7111017639471982577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7111017639471982577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/01/jeanine-mason-just-fantastic.html' title='Jeanine Mason- just fantastic'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8957613406003696167</id><published>2011-01-09T16:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T16:26:33.178-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='where did she get that ball in the afterlife?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='do clothes die'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afterlife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghosts'/><title type='text'>So where do they find their clothes?</title><content type='html'>The afterlife: Everyone has some kind of belief about it. People either swear that (1) Heaven and Hell are real places, (2) that our souls are infinitely reincarnated/attain nirvana/moksha/ become one with universe, or that (3) we stick around here on Earth after we die. &lt;div&gt;I can sort of deal with the first type that believes in Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell; because, regardless of the veracity of these theories, they have at least found a scare tactic to get human beings to do the right thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really have much to say about the second kind that believes that the soul, if such a thing exists, keeps going through a lot of phase changes until it reaches a plateau. They might be correct, and they might not be. One would have to die to find out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The people that really get me are those that believe in souls that stick around here, more commonly known as &lt;b&gt;ghosts&lt;/b&gt;. We have all heard reports such as these: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-"I saw a little girl bouncing a ball in the basement of the hotel, and when I turned around and looked back she was gone." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-"That place in truly haunted. Guests have claimed that they saw an old man in a rocking chair, wearing a blue coat smoking a cigar at midnight. They can even smell the smoke." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-"People who drive down that bridge always see little kids walking past them, when no one is there."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Channels such as Discovery, the History Channel, etc... have literally gone from giving historical accounts to telling these ghost stories out of which, they, no doubt have made a fortune. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, how can you see a ghost? Even if you can, how can you see its clothes? Do the clothes die along with the human? Aren't clothes inanimate objects? How, then, can we take our clothes with us once we die? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The worst part is when one of those "ghost hunters" comes into the picture to set up recording devices to "prove" that a ghost is there. So, any kind of static picked up by the camera turns into a message by the ghost. Any howling of the wind is a ghost message. Anything that gets knocked down by mice or something is done by a ghost! Are we all really so stupid to believe that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to think that spook stories were meant merely for college dorms and slumber parties...but I guess not. A healthy belief in the afterlife is not a bad things, but this cinematic "The Sixth Sense" belief in ghosts is downright ridiculous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8957613406003696167?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8957613406003696167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8957613406003696167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8957613406003696167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8957613406003696167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2011/01/so-where-do-they-find-their-clothes.html' title='So where do they find their clothes?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-3967954776531166624</id><published>2010-11-30T22:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T22:44:26.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Defense class= Brilliant</title><content type='html'>Went to self defense class today and learnt how to neuter an attacker. &lt;div&gt;Life: 0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: 1000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-3967954776531166624?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/3967954776531166624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=3967954776531166624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3967954776531166624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3967954776531166624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2010/11/self-defense-class-brilliant.html' title='Self Defense class= Brilliant'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-7298468145980106802</id><published>2010-11-29T14:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T15:06:12.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Revival of the pjs-- years later</title><content type='html'>So after a really long hiatus from serious blogging, I've decided to upstart my blog again. Reason? I'm just that bored with my life. It's okay, though. You don't have to read this if you don't want to.  I wonder if after all these years of growing and maturing and whatnot, my views on life are any different. I can't tell, really. But I assume and hope that they are. After all, what is life if not a series of confusing states of mind? &lt;div&gt;But I digress! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am here, now, at the University of Virginia- a charming place if anything (and I mean that with as much sarcasm as you can think). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you think UVA, you think preps. This is actually not an exaggeration. People here dress up more than those stuck up bureaucrats in D.C. I mean, I've actually seen guys who match their bright orange UVA T-shirts to bright orange converses. Who really dresses like that? However, the preppy-ness has begun to rub-off on me, and I am beginning to (sadly) look, dress and talk more and more like them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, this brings me to the topic of todays post:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can we really control what happens to us in social situations?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There is something more to being in social situations than mere peer pressure. Before I say anything more, though, let me begin by saying that peer pressure is NOT when your peers ask you to do something you don't want to do. Peer pressure is when you feel the need, by yourself, to do something you normally wouldn't do because you are surrounded by people who would think you were an outcast if you didn't do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So, anyway, I've had so many people say that they would fight the urge to conform when they went to college, that they would maintain their originality at all costs. I think this is a bunch of bullshit. The reason is, that when you are surrounded by 10,000 other people who don't think that there is anything wrong with, say, not showering for 10 days straight, you will begin to think that there is nothing wrong with not showering for 10 days straight. This is because taking showers is a social norm. There are many parts of the world where people don't shower often due to water shortages, and other problems! So, if all your friends think that there's nothing wrong with being stinky, it's likely that you will have no problem with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What's more, if all your friends think that it is actually really cool to be stinky, you are likely to condone it more than ever. Now, let's top it off and say that none of the authorities have a problem with this lack of showering. Let's say that all authority figures, like professors and deans just accept the fact that college students will be stinky. Now, you really don't have any reason to shower. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think those of you who are paying attention, will know that I am not talking about taking showers. And this is how I explain the seriously rampant phenomenon of "work hard, party hard."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-7298468145980106802?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/7298468145980106802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=7298468145980106802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7298468145980106802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7298468145980106802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2010/11/revival-of-pjs-approximately-5-years.html' title='Revival of the pjs-- years later'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1430671162551705936</id><published>2010-03-15T13:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T13:17:25.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>I don't know if people know this, but no one person has "1,900 friends." That's not possible. I feel like Facebook should changing the word "friends" to "friends, acquaintances, people in my class, people I've never even met once in real life, and people who don't exist." &lt;div&gt;It has gotten to a point where having real friends doesn't even matter unless they are "facebook friends" with you. And you know this addiction to FB has gone on far enough when you meet an old friend and ask them "how was your spring break?" they say "it was good, but not as good as yours. I saw the pictures on facebook, but I didn't know where they were from because it didn't say." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is more interesting than the fact that it has become a norm to say things like this is the fact that the poster of the pictures is almost always offended that someone else whom they haven't seen in a very long time has access to them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Question: why on Earth would you post something on the internet if you didn't want everyone to see it? And if you really didn't want them to see it, why wouldn't you make said postings private?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another amazing trend is people "liking" each other's statuses. I mean sometimes, people really do have worthiwhile things to say about themselves in their statuses. Honestly, though, 99% of status updates are entirely useless, and you know what? I really don't want to hear things like "Jake says: 'bored.'" Jake, I think I and everyone in the universe knows that the very fact that you are facebooking at 1:30 AM means that you don't have much else to do. We get it. You do not have to highlight that fact. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you tell I am annoyed with this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1430671162551705936?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1430671162551705936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1430671162551705936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1430671162551705936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1430671162551705936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2010/03/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1661984078472062136</id><published>2010-03-04T20:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T20:12:35.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Impulses</title><content type='html'>There are so many moments in life that don't make any sense. We don't know why we do certain things or what compels us to do them. We may know that the action is idiotic. We will know very well that it will result in outcomes that are unhappy for everyone, most especially for us...but we do it anyway. And no matter how many times the action kicks us in the butt, we keep doing it. Don't we ever learn?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1661984078472062136?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1661984078472062136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1661984078472062136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1661984078472062136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1661984078472062136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2010/03/impulses.html' title='Impulses'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1188692693192418779</id><published>2009-10-11T12:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T12:18:18.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy Lee- the voice</title><content type='html'>There's just something about her voice that sears into your soul, very much like a knife- but in a good way. Yes, of course all Evanescence songs are incredibly depressing, and almost all of them have to do with not being noticed or not getting enough attention. But sometimes, I just like listening to them for Amy Lee's voice. It is so drenched with emotion that you can't help but be drawn to it. &lt;div&gt;Kudos to Evanescence's song writers too. I love the lines "You used to captivate me by your resonating light. But now i'm bound by the life you left behind. Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams. Your voice, it chased away all of the sanity in me. There's just too much that time cannot erase." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To me, this is brilliant. No one since John Lennon writes songs like this. The deepest extent of any hit song lyrics these days is "shake it like a Polaroid picture."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evanescence is different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's beautiful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1188692693192418779?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1188692693192418779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1188692693192418779' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1188692693192418779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1188692693192418779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/amy-lee-voice.html' title='Amy Lee- the voice'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-7922897091930552965</id><published>2009-10-10T21:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T21:31:54.567-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grow some brains if you can</title><content type='html'>I really want to know why reporters cannot get better questions to ask newly famous people than "how do you handle all the attention?" or "how do you respond to all the gossip about you." And it's ridiculous, especially because they always think that they have just invented this question and that it is very clever of them...it's like really?&lt;div&gt;And then the famous person always answers like "I don't let the gossip bother me at all. I think it's good to have any kind of publicity. Being talked about means that I still exist. It only bothers me when they talk about the people I love. But they can call me a crack-whore/man-slut for all I care. I know who I am on the inside."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every time they say this, they think that they have just given an incredibly innovative answer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-7922897091930552965?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/7922897091930552965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=7922897091930552965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7922897091930552965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7922897091930552965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/grow-some-brains-if-you-can.html' title='Grow some brains if you can'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-6118302062741359655</id><published>2009-10-08T16:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:48:50.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Evolutionary Case for Promiscuity: Human Beings were never meant to be Monogomous!</title><content type='html'>Textbook Definitions:&lt;div&gt;Monogamy-&gt; involves the formation of a lasting pair bond between one male and one female. This behavior is common in birds, and uncommon in mammals because&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a) The avian mother is no better suited than the father to provide for the needs of the young like food, warmth and protection. Without him, the young carrying his genes may not survive. Among mammals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;b) Among Mammals,such as human beings, the situation is different. Females lactate (produce milk), providing food for the young. Males often can contribute little or nothing to the survival of the young. So, it is to their ADVANTAGE to mate with as many females as possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's like I've always said, human beings were never meant to be monogamous!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As my apartment-mate says, however, "just because you can, doesn't mean you should." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know about that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess this textbook definition doesn't really make it okay for women to be promiscuous, but does for men. I guess this would be a good time to remind everyone that the STD (sexually transmitted disease) rate in the country is 1 out of ever 4 people....that's 25%....that's a LOT. So, ahem, **don't sleep around**. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-6118302062741359655?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/6118302062741359655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=6118302062741359655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6118302062741359655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6118302062741359655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/evolutionary-case-for-promiscuity-human.html' title='The Evolutionary Case for Promiscuity: Human Beings were never meant to be Monogomous!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1431988570405602467</id><published>2009-10-07T09:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:07:38.268-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I wonder'/><title type='text'>The time has come when I have to outgrow Charmed and Gilmore Girls...I don't Wanna!</title><content type='html'>This day is here again. It is the last day of a vacation, the day when I'm always like "shit, what the fuck did I bring all those textbooks for if I wasn't going to read a single one of them?" and "shit, that stuff was actually REALLY heavy. Why, didn't I just leave them at the apartment?" &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm going to be leaving home again in a few hours, off into the world of term papers and mid-terms. Yes, that's right. This is how I've come to think of college now. Once upon a time, it used to be the world of awesome parties and cute guys. But no, now it is a universe of tiresome drunken events and douche-bag-like guys. &lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time I used to be excited about being away from home, from the creepy evil that is my parents. I used to pine for the day of freedom, where I could do whatever I wanted, live a dream life. Then, I came to college. &lt;br /&gt;Let me just tell you: my first year was hand-down the crappiest experience I have ever had. EVER. It was even worse than my 9th grade gym class of having to run 2 miles every day as a "warm-up." It was EVEN worse than having to sit next to that smelly lady on an 8 HOUR trip from Dulles to Heathrow. It was just plain shitty. &lt;br /&gt;Imagine how much I liked my first year, if the best experience I ever had was getting the FLU for 2 weeks, and getting to come home- even though my family was moving at the time, so I had no home--but I was still glad to get out of that crap hole!!!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, away from that tangent, I have to go back to college now. Even though the once-shit-hole is no longer as much of a shit-hole, due to the very lucky event of finding great friends to live with, I must say that I am not at all that excited about going back. &lt;br /&gt;Even now I am telling myself that I will read my Environmental Policy reader (of over 200 pages) during every stop light on the way. Many may pass this off as wishful thinking, but I, am very serious about doing it. &lt;br /&gt;At least for now :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1431988570405602467?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1431988570405602467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1431988570405602467' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1431988570405602467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1431988570405602467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-day-is-here-again.html' title='The time has come when I have to outgrow Charmed and Gilmore Girls...I don&apos;t Wanna!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1868075028659135371</id><published>2009-10-06T16:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:07:49.785-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And the shadoes of time recede as they always do.&lt;br /&gt;The wind slows, chills, and goes.&lt;br /&gt;The sunlight is covered by a blue cloud.&lt;br /&gt;The trees lose every gorgeous green leaf.&lt;br /&gt;And yet life does not hold still.&lt;br /&gt;It moves on.&lt;br /&gt;It always finds a way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1868075028659135371?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1868075028659135371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1868075028659135371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1868075028659135371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1868075028659135371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/and-shadoes-of-time-recede-as-they.html' title=''/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8050199053727312896</id><published>2009-10-05T14:44:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:50:34.324-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I wonder'/><title type='text'>WAS This the Face that Launched a Thousand Ships and Burnt the Topless Towers of Ilium?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay, maybe I just watched &lt;i&gt;Shakespeare in Love&lt;/i&gt; (refer to title). Again. But I think this has to be said...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sirens are not a new concept.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I am not talking about those things in Ambulances. I mean those gorgeous sea nymphs who would lure sailors into crashing on their shores. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Women have been blamed-let's be honest- for so many things that had nothing to do with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogimg2.no.sapo.pt/troy_helen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 600px;" src="http://blogimg2.no.sapo.pt/troy_helen.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Case in point, Helen was blamed for the destruction of Troy- even though the war had so much more to do with internal politics than to do with Paris' lust/love for Her. Regardless, that's precisely how history depicts it. Helen is the woman who bewitched the most powerful men in the world to fight over her. She destroyed the will of man with her beauty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whether or not this story is actually true, it holds an unbelievable amount charm in it's idea. The idea of the power of a beautiful woman is thrilling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The past is riddled with such examples.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.travelinstyle.com/egypt/cleopatra-imagesml.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 442px;" src="http://www.travelinstyle.com/egypt/cleopatra-imagesml.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think about Cleopatra and Caesar/Mark Anthony: Cleopatra is the woman who managed to save her country by managing to seduce the most powerful man on Earth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2000000/King-Henry-and-Anne-Boleyn-the-tudors-2000893-700-500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 700px; height: 500px;" src="http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2000000/King-Henry-and-Anne-Boleyn-the-tudors-2000893-700-500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there is the case of Anne Boleyn, who made Henry VIII divorce his wife, overthrow the Roman Catholic Church, and found a new religion altogether just to be with this alluring young woman. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My question has little to do with the actual veracity of these stories. I'm sure that Cleopatra's political policies had more to do with convincing Caesar than her seduction-skills. In fact, if you consult any history textbook, you will find that Cleopatra wasn't at all beautiful. She was known to have a hooked nose, and quite-odd features. So this depiction of her as the "Goddess of The Nile," is great imagination at best. In the situation with Anne Boleyn, Henry's divorce with Queen Catherine had more to do with his paranoia of not having a son than to do with his attraction to Anne. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you think it then, are men just weak to fall prey to women like that? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I doubt it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In fact, it would make more sense if these stories were concocted by women to enhance their own ego. But no, they were written by men to blame women for their mistakes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not to sound too much like Dan Brown and blab about the Sacred Feminine, I think we really ought to rethink history. Just a little bit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8050199053727312896?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8050199053727312896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8050199053727312896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8050199053727312896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8050199053727312896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/sirens-are-not-new-concept.html' title='WAS This the Face that Launched a Thousand Ships and Burnt the Topless Towers of Ilium?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4884897325494738373</id><published>2009-10-03T12:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:08:09.148-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It is a hot day outside, but in the water, it is perfect. The brilliant blue of the lagoon is breath-taking. The water is a pure reflection of the clear blue sky above it. Beams of light reflect off the exterior of the sunken ship. Fish swim in and out of these beams. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They move in schools, as if they are in perfect harmony with everything around them. There is no anger, no temptation. There is no jealousy, or greed. They are uninhibited by such human flaws, able to simply enjoy presence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4884897325494738373?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4884897325494738373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4884897325494738373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4884897325494738373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4884897325494738373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-is-hot-day-outside-but-in-water-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-3124272190159899629</id><published>2009-09-30T15:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:08:17.836-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I wonder'/><title type='text'>What is it all for?</title><content type='html'>This is a list of current conflicts in the world:&lt;br /&gt;Current Conflicts&lt;br /&gt;Algeria Insurgency  1992 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angola Cabinda  1975 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burma Insurgency  1950 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China Senkaku Islands 1968 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China Spratly Islands 1988 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China Uighur 1996 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colombia Insurgencies 1970s--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congo (Zaire)  Congo War 1998--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Georgia Civil War 1991--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India Assam 1985 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India Kashmir 1970s--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India Naxalite Uprising  1967 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indonesia Aceh 1986 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indonesia Kalimantan 1983 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indonesia Maluku 1999 -&lt;br /&gt;Indonesia Papua / West Irian  1963 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Israel Al-Aqsa Intifada 2000 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Israel Lebanon 2006 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ivory Coast Civil War  2002 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korea Korean War 1953 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laos Hmong Insurgency 2000 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moldova Transdniester  1991--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namibia  Caprivi Strip  1966--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nepal Maoists 1996 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nigeria Civil Disturbances  1997 -&lt;br /&gt;Pakistan Baluchistan 2004 -&lt;br /&gt;Pakistan Pashtun Jihad 2001 -&lt;br /&gt;Palestine Civil War 2007--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peru Shining Path 1970s--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Philippines  Moro Uprising  1970s--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Russia Chechen Uprising  1992 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somalia  Civil War  1991--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spain  Basque Uprising  1970s--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sri Lanka Tamil Separatists 1983 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sudan Darfur 1983 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thailand Islamic Rebels 2001 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkey Kurdistan 1984 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uganda  Civil Conflict  1980 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;United States Afghanistan 1980 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;United States Djibouti 2001 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;United States Iraq  1990 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;United States Philippines  1898 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uzbekistan Civil Disturbances 2005 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yemen Sheik al-Houti 2004 --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at this, I ask myself "WHAT THE FUCK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://subversiveuniverse.com/PIX/War%20&amp;amp;%20Peace/hiroshima_nagasaki_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 489px; height: 665px;" src="http://subversiveuniverse.com/PIX/War%20&amp;amp;%20Peace/hiroshima_nagasaki_01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;First Atomic Bomb Hiroshima. Number dead: 140,000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was one of those people who would get really mad when people started talking about how man kind should be "evolved past war by now." I always thought that this was a really naive way of looking at things, because everyone needs defense. Even if you and your country don't have any intentions of invading another country, someone else might absolutely have intentions of invading your's. So, you need some kind of defense. You might not have to follow the United Stats' policy of "the best defense is a good offense, and start going to war with every country you can get your tanks in"- no offense intended to Americans. However, you definitely need a standing military at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.troubadourconsultants.com/washington-dc-arlington-national-cemetery-s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 418px; height: 334px;" src="http://www.troubadourconsultants.com/washington-dc-arlington-national-cemetery-s.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Arlington national Cemetery, resting place of 300,001 Civil War soldiers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That being said, why can't we find a better way to solve our differences?&lt;br /&gt;We think that murderers are sinners, but we murder people in war. "But that's war. It's different," people say. Is it really that different?&lt;br /&gt;In every war there are people murdered and raped, there are families who lose everything, there are people forced to live on the streets and off of the mercy of others. Most of the time, all of these people are completely innocent civilians.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who are we really fooling by saying that war is just a means to defend ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;War is a means to defend our INTERESTS, which oftentimes, we value more than ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/2196708/mnrosenthal105-main_Full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 540px; height: 432px;" src="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/2196708/mnrosenthal105-main_Full.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;World War II: Total dead (civilians and military): 73,000,000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is another thing I don't understand. So often, we fight for land that neither us or our kids will get to enjoy. So often, we fight for oil even though using it will end up killing everyone anyway. We fight over nuclear power, and there are TONS and TONS of it stored in various sites across the world- even though just a few MILLIGRAMS is enough to kill thousands of people. What is wrong with us? We fight for snow mountains and wild-life reserves. We fight for peace (World War II). We fight for stupid reasons, and sometimes we fight for no reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;"Fighting for Peace is like Screwing for Virginity."-George Carli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't think if this is simply a question of "by guns are bigger than your guns," or if we really are devolving as a civilization. If you ask me, I pick the latter explanation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-3124272190159899629?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/3124272190159899629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=3124272190159899629' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3124272190159899629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3124272190159899629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-is-it-all-for.html' title='What is it all for?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8781061984912414119</id><published>2009-09-28T10:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:08:34.362-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I wonder'/><title type='text'>You are what you Eat!</title><content type='html'>Our 21st century world is evolving so fast that among people who order their groceries on the internet, those who have surgically attached their phones to their ears, and those who consider Christmas to be, not the birth of Jesus Christ, but a time for giving Abercrombie gift cards are those who are the "pretend vegetarians."&lt;br /&gt;Lets face it, there is so much crap in everything we eat, processed or otherwise, that we are all invariably consuming some form of animal by-product even if we are just trying to eat carrots.&lt;br /&gt;But vegetarians often boast that they are "not meat-eaters" as if to say they are not "serial rapists" or "ax murderers." So, it always makes me happy to point out to these people that Jello- the only food allowed for your consumption in the even of a surgery- is horse meat. It also makes me undeniably happy to lie to people about my egg-free cakes, which definitely have eggs in them. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway-yes, i am an evil, evil person- but besides these oblivious vegetarians are those who pretend to be vegetarians, but definitely sneak in their fair share of meat. Have you ever met those people who claim that eating fish is okay because fish are "the vegetables of the sea." Next thing you know, cows will be "vegetables of the land." I don't think so. &lt;br /&gt;I mean, we haven't really even begun to truly define what it means to be a vegetarian. Of course, we all know that vegans don't eat dairy products. But to be a vegetarian? That's always something that was questionable. When you eat bread, does the bacteria in yeast count as meat? No matter what you say, there are always micro-organisms in every kind of plant, fruit, or vegetable. So, besides the obvious question of "can vegetarians eat eggs?"- which by the way are baby fetus chicken- there are other questions to be considered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8781061984912414119?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8781061984912414119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8781061984912414119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8781061984912414119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8781061984912414119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-are-what-you-eat.html' title='You are what you Eat!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-752356184740607869</id><published>2009-09-27T13:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:08:41.563-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Searching for Substance</title><content type='html'>If I have nothing to blog about, one might ask why I bother blogging in the first place. There are a series of reasons- beginning with the fact of my overwhelming desire to procrastinate on any actual work that I need to do- and will not be discussed here. I often find myself pushing for new topics to write about, but find that the world around me is as monotonous as ever.&lt;br /&gt;How often can I comment on the fact that the streakers at UVA's lawn are beginning to drive me nuts- and this idea of open nudity somehow mark's a milestone in a person's college experience....it's just something I can't wrap my mind around. And I AM sorry I don't want to run around campus buck-naked. It has nothing to do with being self-conscious, as much as it has to do with the fact that I think the idea entirely stupid, pointless waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, most things in college- like foam parties- are giant wastes of time. I often think that people lose track of the fine line between fun and idiocy. I ask you what part of getting a disease from a floor of a foam soaked party, that by 3 hours is probably soaked with other disgusting substances, is "fun" ????&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm tired of writing about college which is nothing but a mixture of work and other idiotic activities- which I'll admit, I engage in on a rather constant basis. &lt;br /&gt;Then I thought about writing about current events- and I find that nothing "current" is really all that "current." The economy is still bad. The country is still moving toward some form of increased socialistic ideals...and I can't make myself think of Obama as the next Hitler, no matter what those eccentrics outside the DMV will have me believe. So, the country has been the same as before. So has the world- I mean, I am sure there are still killings, bombings, rapes, wars, genocides, and the like--but I've rather grown tired of ranting about hem. Really, if people had evolved beyond things like that, then they would stop. Seeing as to how they have not, I quite give up on the human race as a whole. This is not to say that I somehow support those tree-hugging, whale-saving green-peace people. More power to them, but I'll decide whether NOT donating money to the save-the-whale foundation makes me a sinner or not. &lt;br /&gt;So I'm tired of talking about the world, and I'm tired of talking about educational institutions and their ludicrousness. &lt;br /&gt;Which leaves me to only talk about me-more or less....&lt;br /&gt;and ME? well, if you can't figure it out from the rest of this blog...you and I are in a very sad position indeed................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-752356184740607869?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/752356184740607869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=752356184740607869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/752356184740607869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/752356184740607869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/searching-for-substance.html' title='Searching for Substance'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-2175134745929977888</id><published>2009-09-26T21:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:08:56.408-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>Tears cannot hope to cover the extent of my pain when I think about his death. Today is the day we all remember it. A passing of a friend is not something we can ever wrap our heads around. We keep thinking about it over and over again- not because we are shocked, but because we cannot allow ourselves to be shocked. &lt;div&gt;It is an understatement, hardly befitting the magnitude of the situation to say that his spirit will always be with us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is moments like this that really make us question the presence of God. How can someone so pure of heart, so brave, so caring just be wiped off of the face of the Earth? Why not kill those murderers, those rapists, those gangsters, those weeds of society? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What did he ever do to anyone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is hard to think back and pass it off as the circle of life. It is hard to stay detached and pretend like it was fair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-2175134745929977888?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/2175134745929977888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=2175134745929977888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2175134745929977888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2175134745929977888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-7364852834847019004</id><published>2009-09-25T17:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:09:06.952-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><title type='text'>The Chuck-Blair Phenomenon</title><content type='html'>Ever since Gossip Girl hit the airwaves, all anyone can talk about is Chuck Bass. What is it about Chuck that so appeals to the female masses? I'd like to think that it's something that goes beyond the mere bad-boy-next-door image. Chuck was first introduced as a representation of the spawn of all evil (evil being Bart Bass). As the story line progressed however, we began to see his softer, more vulnerable side (a clear diversion from the books, if I may add).&lt;div&gt;Chuck becomes the love interest of Blair Waldorf. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/images/2008/04/12/gossip_girl_promos_jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/images/2008/04/12/gossip_girl_promos_jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One could even think that the very reason we like Chuck is because he cheated on Blair so often. However, it wasn't his infidelity that was attractive, but the fact that he always came back to Blair. Of course, no one can discount the steamy chemistry between the two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is no doubt that the Chuck-Blair Phenomenon is the reason for Gossip Girl's wide success. We just can't stop watching the two bicker, fight, and make-up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is almost-almost-disappointing that the two are now dating and in a monogamous relationship this season. How will Gossip Girl stay on the air at this rate? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are obviously trying to start something between Serena and Carter this time around- but I must say that the blond-brunette duo have NOTHING on the notorious ill-doers, Chuck and Blair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-7364852834847019004?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/7364852834847019004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=7364852834847019004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7364852834847019004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/7364852834847019004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/chuck-blair-phenomenon.html' title='The Chuck-Blair Phenomenon'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-561900592430286538</id><published>2009-09-13T14:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T17:21:16.861-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Who are we to decide?</title><content type='html'>We, as human beings are so often constrained by the values we impose on ourselves. Who really defines character? Is it your mom and dad? Do the teachers in school, the professors in college, or your employers decide it? Is it what we learn from our surroundings, or is "character" just another term for "peer pressure"? &lt;br /&gt;Let's face it. We often decide what is morally important to us, by what is morally important to those who surround us. If all my friends think that drinking is a horrible, sinful thing, then I am likely not to drink. If all my friends think that smoking pot is "just as bad a drinking" and that it's "no big deal," then I'm likely to smoke pot and think those same things.&lt;br /&gt;So, why do we assume that a person of "good character" is a good person, when it's all relative?&lt;br /&gt;This puts everything in a very confusing perspective, because by that definition, what is important to us today might not be important to us tomorrow. So, how do we ever make decisions?&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that all this bull crap about a person's character or their honor is just societal peer pressure. And NONE of us base everything we do on what society thinks. Just like you don't go out and buy a $5000 Berkin Bag just because it's in, you DON'T have to do what's morally right....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-561900592430286538?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/561900592430286538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=561900592430286538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/561900592430286538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/561900592430286538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2009/09/who-are-we-to-decide.html' title='Who are we to decide?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-3588190266106805886</id><published>2008-01-11T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T01:46:30.071-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>The Double Edged Sword of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; I saw Eternity the other night,&lt;br /&gt;Like a great ring of pure and endless light,&lt;br /&gt;All calm, as it was bright;&lt;br /&gt;And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years&lt;br /&gt;Driv’n by the spheres&lt;br /&gt;Like a vast shadow mov’d; in which the world&lt;br /&gt;And all her train were hurl’d.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.spaceandmotion.com/Images/cosmology/human-space-universe-cosmos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the first few lines to a famous poem by Henry Vaughan called “The World.” Hard to believe, isn’t it, that this is about a man who sees himself being buried?&lt;br /&gt;Re-reading this poem recently made me ask this question: What would we want people to think about us when we die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people believe that we are all here to follow some sort of predestined master plan, and that every decision we make is in fact not of our own making. Maybe this is true and we don’t really have a choice about what people think of us when we die.&lt;br /&gt;But what if we did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would we want people to say that we accomplished an incredible amount of things, built massive business empires, and spent every minute of our lives making this dream a reality? That we lost sight of all other happiness in life because we were so driven by this one goal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would we want people to remember us as great altruists, who worked their entire lives to helping other people in need? That we spent so much time caring about others that we lost sight of ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or would we want people to say that we were loving, caring people, who worked to raise families and improved in our jobs greatly? That we did nothing truly to influence others or to help mankind in general, when we were so focused on our own personal well-being?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which one of these fates doesn’t sound like a double-edged sword? So what options DO we have?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-3588190266106805886?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/3588190266106805886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=3588190266106805886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3588190266106805886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/3588190266106805886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2008/01/double-edged-sword-of-life.html' title='The Double Edged Sword of Life'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4918282952445691480</id><published>2007-06-22T21:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T21:59:26.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?</title><content type='html'>Do great deeds discount a person's flaws?&lt;br /&gt;If suddenly one day, we found out that Mother Theresa worked at a strip club before she decided to become a nun, would we still respect her for the same things? What&lt;br /&gt;if one day we found out that Nelson Mandela was an adulterer, would we change the way we looked at him?&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about this as I wondered about Angelina Jolie. Everyone who reads the tabloids probably knows that she hasn't exactly had the most morally sound past.&lt;br /&gt;But right now, she works as an ambassador for the United Nations. Do her good deeds balance out her "bad" ones? This isn't to say that I pass any kind of judgment on her.&lt;br /&gt;She did what felt right when she did it, and as a gut follower myself, I can't say that she was wrong. But even she admits that many of the things she did weren't that smart&lt;br /&gt;on her part. The way the world looks at her now, though, is very different from how they used to view her.&lt;br /&gt;So...Can we really find redeption in our good deeds, and if so, is that really rational?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4918282952445691480?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4918282952445691480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4918282952445691480' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4918282952445691480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4918282952445691480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/06/will-all-great-neptunes-ocean-wash-this.html' title='Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8960423894368048512</id><published>2007-05-16T19:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T16:13:35.540-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Cheating: Can you really expect any better?</title><content type='html'>We've all done it before, and if you're denying it right now, stop lying to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;However, recent studies show that rates of cheating have gotten higher over the years. Higher, and more inventive.&lt;br /&gt;Recently a student was actually caught cheating off of a Gatorade bottle. Yes, you heard that right. The popular sports drink that, however sugar-filled, kids seem to enjoy are being used to cheat on tests. How, you ask? Simple. They peel off the label to the Gatorade bottle, right the answers to the test questions, and paste it back onto the bottle. Inventive, you say? You bet.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not everyone is that clever, but students have been known to do everything from using sign language, to righting answers on the insides of their mini-skirts, so that no one would know that they are cheating.&lt;br /&gt;Outrageous. Yes. But, can we really expect things to be better?&lt;br /&gt;Put yourselves in the shoes of the average student.&lt;br /&gt;Your grades are everything. Fail one class, and you future might as well go down the drain. That might seem like an easy task to do, but let me assure you that most teenagers are involved in at least 3-4 AP classes, playing an instrument, a sport, Volunteering, participating in clubs, participating on Honor societies, working in jobs, applying for scholarships, studying for other classes, etc. Mind you, all of this needs to be balanced with actually having a life while in school. If anyone thinks that this is a sane way of life, I have to say that you have serious problems. When so much is on the line, and grades take precedence over actual learning, can we truly be taken aback by habits of cheating.&lt;br /&gt;Once again, we must reform our education system. Some people might think that stress is a good thing, but I happen to NOT be one of those people. You don't want to inspire a world full of heart-disease getting 20 year-olds. Certainly not. Or at least, I would hope not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8960423894368048512?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8960423894368048512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8960423894368048512' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8960423894368048512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8960423894368048512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheating-can-you-really-expect-any.html' title='Cheating: Can you really expect any better?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8647528075767671223</id><published>2007-05-06T13:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T19:53:22.529-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>You might not know it, but you're experiencing it right now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know that feeling late at night when you get up in your empty house, without turning the light on to go get a glass of water...what makes you want to rush back to bed as soon as possible?&lt;br /&gt;Or that feeling you get when you're not sure if the person you care about might come home or not?&lt;br /&gt;Or what about those feelings you get when you're home alone and you hear footsteps outside, but you know that no one is supposed to be home yet?&lt;br /&gt;It's FEAR. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.bcysth.ca/photo_gallery/art_project/images/fear.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;But this strange emotion that we all wish we never had to experience, is more than just a feeling. Oh no. This emotion is so powerful that the people who know how to wield it, have complete control over you.&lt;br /&gt;Don't believe me?&lt;br /&gt;Stalin used it to gain control of an entire country. At a particular point, people were so afraid that they couldn't even utter the word "government" for fear that they might be killed.&lt;br /&gt;Hitler used it to manipulate his country into shunning Jews. He would actually make soldiers stand in front of Jewish businesses and have them take the names of the Germans who shopped there. Of course, he wasn't going to do anything to these Germans. But they didn't know that. They were so afraid of facing the same fate that these Jews faced that they would not even want to shop in such Jewish stores.&lt;br /&gt;Terrorists worldwide use this tactic. The whole point of terror is to spread fear. You don't know when they will attack you. You don't know how they will attack you. You don't even know if they will attack you. Regardless, there's that possibility. And that scares you. Because you know that if and when they do, it will hit home in ways that you didn't even think were possible.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe these seem like examples that aren't very close to home. So, here's one that you're probably more sure to relate to.&lt;br /&gt;Religion uses the power of fear. Christianity, is a great example. People are told that they need to behave here on earth, because the thing that comes afterwards is eternity in one of two places: Heaven or Hell. And eternity isn't just a couple of years. It's FOREVER. and ever. There's no turning back. Once you're in hell, you can't come back. It's not purgatory. It's Hell. You're staying in those burning pits of flame forever and ever, feeling that searing pain going through your flesh forever and ever. If that isn't a scary thought, I don't know what is. Of course, people can't argue against that. They don't know what happens after they die either. But once they get warped into that mentality, they'll do anything to make sure that they don't end up in hell. If that meant going to war to fight for religion, so be it. If that meant living in utter poverty and peril, so be it...as long as they don't have to face the shear pain of hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The greatest power of fear, though, isn't just it's power in manipulation. It's it's ability to spread hatred in ways that other means can't even hope to compare to.&lt;br /&gt;Let's take the example of Japan during World War II. The Japanese people were told that American soldiers were so horrible that they would do horrible things to them if they were captured. This mentality was propagated all throughout the media. This fear of uncertainty could be felt everywhere. The Japanese people were so convinced that these Americans were "evil" that they were willing to fight until the last Japanese person. There was not chance that they would surrender and let these "barbaric" people take control of them.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, a lot of this was untrue. But that's the thing about uncertainty. You fear things that you don't know about. You fear things that you can't control.&lt;br /&gt;So, when the Japanese people found out that the Americans were closing in, hundreds of them actually committed suicide, jumping off of cliffs. Some even took their children with them. They killed themselves, because they didn't know what kind of fate awaited them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing about this because, I feel like we're living in a world in which people are constantly on their guard. They almost expect something bad to happen to them. So, how can they be surprised if something bad does happen to them. We need to learn that fear is just an instrument. Without it, most of the things that bother us, and affect us wouldn't even be a problem. It's would be so much easier to accomplish things like world peace if fear just wasn't a component. We need to come together as people of the world to make this a possibility. It's the only way that we can ever find mental peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8647528075767671223?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8647528075767671223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8647528075767671223' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8647528075767671223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8647528075767671223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/05/you-might-not-know-it-but-youre.html' title='You might not know it, but you&apos;re experiencing it right now...'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-2956298814320499292</id><published>2007-04-16T12:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T19:53:12.749-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic Relief'/><title type='text'>Chris Rock...the Genius!</title><content type='html'>I LOVE this guy. He is sooo funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the world:&lt;br /&gt;"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is a Chinese guy, the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance, Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three most powerful men in America are name 'Bush,' 'Dick' and 'Colon.' Need I say more?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On drugs:&lt;br /&gt;"I don't get high, but sometimes I wish I did. That way, when I messed up in life I would have an excuse. But right now there's no rehab for stupidity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If only smart people like your shit, it ain't that smart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never go to clubs with metal detectors. Sure it feels safe inside. But what about all those niggas waiting outside with guns? They know you ain't got one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A black man failing black history ... You know fat people don't fail cooking".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Community college is like a disco with books; 'Here's ten dollars; let me get my learn on!'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Black people yelling 'racism!'. White people yelling 'reverse racism!'. Chinese people yelling 'sideways racism!. And the Indians ain't yelling shit cos they dead. So everybody bitching about how bad they people got it, nobody got it worse than the American Indian, everyone needs to calm the fuck down."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-2956298814320499292?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/2956298814320499292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=2956298814320499292' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2956298814320499292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2956298814320499292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/04/chris-rockthe-genius.html' title='Chris Rock...the Genius!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-6512024164436620595</id><published>2007-03-23T17:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T10:48:59.068-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic Relief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Heart Beats and Butterflies</title><content type='html'>Okay, we just got new seats in my chem class and I'm sitting next to this really cute guy. I really like him. What am I saying? I don't even know him. But god, he's hot. Kinda looks familiar, but I don't recognize him at all. What am I saying? If I ever met anyone this good looking, I would definitely remember. Should I say something to him? Yep, I should. I definitely should. But what?&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god, he just turned around and smiled. He's so cute! I smiled back, but I wonder if it was an okay smile. I mean, what if it was one of those Hi-look-at-me-I-just-got-botox kind of smiles? God, that would be awful. I'm so stupid. Note to self: must practice smiling in the mirror more often.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I have to say something now. We've been sitting here in silence for a while. Too late for introductions. I have to ask him a question. But what???? Okay, our teacher just handed us our scantrons.&lt;br /&gt;oh! oh! I have an idea.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, um, do you have a pencil I can borrow?" I ask, hesitantly.&lt;br /&gt;"Does yours not work?" he asks, with mild amusement, looking at the four pencils on my table. I turn red, and look away, embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh..hehe..." I say.&lt;br /&gt;God, now he must think I'm desperate. GREEEAATTT!!! ugh, I'm such an IDIOT!&lt;br /&gt;Okay, don't panic. Seriously, don't. I'm warning you. Don't panic. Stop it, or I'm going to have to slap you. Okay, calming down now. Need to think of something to say to him.&lt;br /&gt;"You may begin your test now," the teacher says.&lt;br /&gt;I look over to see what he is doing. As far as I can tell, he is attacking the test like a mountain lion attacks a deer. Do mountain lions even attack deer? Hmm...I should look that up. Okay, I should stop staring now. Let me just focus on the test, and when we're done I'll just ask him what he thought about the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Questions number one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;How many moles are in this pool of water?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Hm, I wonder what he looks like in a bathing suit. Okay, don't got there. Just concentrate. I'm not kidding. Concentrate. Orange Juice it. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question number two:&lt;br /&gt;Which of the following atoms are more likely to attract?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, don't even go there. I'm serious. Just don't .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://qrt.eggdrop.hu/gharrach/blondstars/ErikvonDetten/ThePrincessDiaries/PrincessDiaries00.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And so, after 98 more of such similar questions, I ask him,&lt;br /&gt;"so, what did you think about the test?" I kind of have to speak loudly, because the lawn mower is on outside.&lt;br /&gt;"It was okay, I guess. Kinda confusing. What did you think?" He asks with the cutest smile ever.&lt;br /&gt;"It wasn't too bad," I say, smiling, but finally managing to respond, as I am too caught up in his cute smile. This is finally going okay.&lt;br /&gt;"You really don't remember me, do you?" he asks.&lt;br /&gt;"No..." I say, kind of lost.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm Peter. From the 1st grade. Peter Wallman?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry...I really don't...um..." I say, really confused, and kind of felling really really badly that I don't remember.&lt;br /&gt;"You threw up all over me at my birthday party. Remember?" At this point,oh so conveniently, the lawn mower decides to stop. And everyone in class hears the throw up part. I am completely mortified. I can't believe he just said that. Oh my god.&lt;br /&gt;All i can hear is the words "threw up all over me...threw UP all over me...THREW UP all over me....threw up all over ME..."&lt;br /&gt;I am such a MORON!&lt;br /&gt;I turn beet red, and run out of the class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-6512024164436620595?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/6512024164436620595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=6512024164436620595' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6512024164436620595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6512024164436620595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/03/heart-beats-and-butterflies.html' title='Heart Beats and Butterflies'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-182246712812302339</id><published>2007-03-04T16:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T18:23:44.797-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>"You Call It Madness..."</title><content type='html'>....But I definitely don't call it love.&lt;br /&gt;We've all experienced it before. The building of anticipation, the "oh my god, it's HIM," the "I can't believe it-he's so hot in real life!" the "marry me" signs...&lt;br /&gt;You guessed it right. I'm talking about celebrity crushes.&lt;br /&gt;We follow their stories because we wish we were them. We get really interested when something bad happens to them, because, hey guess what, they're not perfect either. We watch their every move, wonder&lt;a href="http://justjared.buzznet.com/images/2006/05/ryan-gosling-rachel-mcadams-airport.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://justjared.buzznet.com/images/2006/05/ryan-gosling-rachel-mcadams-airport.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ing what currrrrraaazie thing they'll do next, because we can't live like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know what you're thinking right now.&lt;br /&gt;"Every blogger out there has touched on this subject at least once. So, what's the big deal?"&lt;br /&gt;The big deal is the question, "why do they put up with it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it. They know what they will get themselves into if they become celebrities. They KNOW that it won't be easy having absolutely no privacy. They KNOW that they won't really be themselves anymore-that they'll change somehow or another. So, why on earth do they put up with it?&lt;br /&gt;The reason might lie in a relationship (i read about) called "paparazzi-celebrity mutualism" The idea behind it is that celebrities need the paparazzi, just as the paparazzi need celebrities.&lt;a href="http://www.gossiportruth.com/wp-content/images/thumb-britney-spears-people-magaz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.gossiportruth.com/wp-content/images/thumb-britney-spears-people-magaz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the name sounds a little parasitic, don't be surprised. It's supposed to be that way. Celebs who go stay under the radar when they start out their careers have it bad. The best case scenario is that they never read true star-dom. The worst case scenario (ugh) is that their careers fall apart altogether. As I was reading about this, I thought to myself, "wow, what a load of bullcrap." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because the reality is that no one in their right minds would choose to put forth ugly details like the fact that they are a fourty year old man in "love" with a twenty year old girl to further their opinion. And what about celebrities who have already reached Star status? They don't need to do it to further their own careers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was wondering about this, it occured to me that it could be something as simple as the fact that they like the publicity. I mean, they wouldn't choose a career that involved the media- an international comodity- if they didn't like the glam, the riches, and most of all- the publicity. I understand that photographers sometimes get out of hand and violent, trying to snap that picture of Reese Witherspoon's teary eyes before anyone else. But for the most part, celebs don't seem to mind having their lives reported on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you think about it, celebrity gives them an enormous amount of power to influence ideas, behavior, trends, opinions, etc. So, their image IS everything. And if they can't get it out there, their careers are as good as over. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-182246712812302339?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/182246712812302339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=182246712812302339' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/182246712812302339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/182246712812302339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-call-it-madness.html' title='&quot;You Call It Madness...&quot;'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4825518671880932593</id><published>2007-03-03T09:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T10:48:02.929-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>I don't know you anymore</title><content type='html'>"You're what!? Oh My GOD! It's like I don't even know you anymore." These were my friend's exact words the other day. She seemed really ticked off on the other line, and I was scrambling for things to say. But the only thing I could think of was:&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, um, that's really dramatic, don't you think?" I asked, trying to sound confused. But, really, I knew what she was talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.deputydavidmarch.com/young%20dave%20and%20friends%20baseball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People change.&lt;br /&gt;As much as we all hate to admit it, they really do.&lt;br /&gt;You know you've experienced it. You let someone go, and that's what they do. They leave you.&lt;br /&gt;It's no joke that the relationships we keep really are a testement to how much effort we put into it. Many of us don't think about it this way, but it is hard work to keep good friends. You can't be resigned all the time. Sometimes we get so comfortable in our little close circle of close friends that we don't bother to put in any effort in sustaining our friendships. Romantic relationships aren't the only things that need work. Friendships do as well.&lt;br /&gt;How many of us can honestly say that we actually spend time with our friends anymore? We're all so caught up in our own crap, that we really don't. But let's for once, try to stop thinking about ourselves and what's going to happen to us, and be with our friends for a while. It won't be that bad. I promise :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4825518671880932593?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4825518671880932593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4825518671880932593' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4825518671880932593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4825518671880932593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-dont-know-you-anymore.html' title='I don&apos;t know you anymore'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-2009103662779405864</id><published>2007-02-25T11:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T14:54:01.601-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Haunted by Your Past</title><content type='html'>We all know that the people we meet in our day to day lives affect the way we perceive everything. But what if something horribly traumatic happened to you? How would that shape the way you looked at the world.&lt;br /&gt;This is about one of my friends, who shall remain unnamed for her sake. Let's just call her Sarah.&lt;br /&gt;Sarah was sexually abused as a child by her best friend's older brother. Even to this day, she can't look at people with the same kind of trust that she used to have. She spends every day trying her best to forget, to forgive-but she can't. I know that this must have been incredibly life-altering, but sadly, she has chosen to play the victim in her life. When she comes across problems, she blames it on the cosmos, on God. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.jimandellen.org/gothic/GrimshawHauntedHouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I was listening to her talk the other day, and have been trying to find the right words to phrase her story ever since. Sarah isn't alone is this respect.&lt;br /&gt;Many of us spend our day to day lives blaming the world for all of the problems that we have. Sure, terrible things happen to us, but we have to learn to deal with it. The weak will always be weeded out, and I don't just mean that in the Darwinian sense. We &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; have the power to change the way our lives are lived. I agree that we can't always control the things that happen to us. But, we can control the way we react to it. Whether you lose a loved one, whether you come close to dying; whether you spent every day in hunger, whether you let others starve; whether you were used by someone, whether you used someone; whether you were abused, whether you abused someone--you always have the power to react to it in a way that you choose. And that makes all the difference in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-2009103662779405864?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/2009103662779405864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=2009103662779405864' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2009103662779405864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/2009103662779405864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/haunted-by-your-past.html' title='Haunted by Your Past'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4504538938555274719</id><published>2007-02-24T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T10:50:07.800-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Fallacy in the Fundamental Question</title><content type='html'>I heard this in a lecture the other day, and have been pretty steamed about it ever since.&lt;br /&gt;You probably guessed this already, but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fundamental&lt;/span&gt; question is "What is the meaning of life?" This is the dumbest question that exists, and yet people have been trying to find the answer forever and ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.nyanko.ws/wp-content/uploads/2006/07/monty_meaning_life_70239.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Personally, I don't even understand what the question is asking. Is it the meaning of the word "life"? Is it about about why we live? Is it about what gives meaning to our lives? There are so many possibilities to what this question could be about... No wonder no one has figured out the answer yet.&lt;br /&gt;And honestly, if there was a God, why would he make the meaning of life so hard to figure out? I mean, we're supposed to know it to be enlightened and stuff right? Maybe the answer isn't so hard.&lt;br /&gt;But why the heck, then, do people spend every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cent&lt;/span&gt; they have, and make these ridiculously long pilgrimages to places that are thousands of miles away, only to circle a rock and talk to some old guy who should really be dead anyway? I mean, if said old guy has supposedly found the meaning to life, then why is he still a poor old guy sitting by a rock in the middle of nowhere? Don't tell me it's "faith," because that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Religion is supposed to exist to help people live better lives. People aren't supposed to mooch off of it.&lt;br /&gt;So here we are trying to find the &lt;em&gt;answer &lt;/em&gt;to the dumbest question ever invented. Wtf?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4504538938555274719?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4504538938555274719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4504538938555274719' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4504538938555274719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4504538938555274719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/fallacy-in-fundemental-question.html' title='Fallacy in the Fundamental Question'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1117577965671377048</id><published>2007-02-20T18:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T18:45:58.128-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic Relief'/><title type='text'>Why People Think Americans are Stupid</title><content type='html'>Hi...I have to admit that I saw this video on someone else's blog and thought that it was freakin hilarious...so I HADDDDD to post it here! Enjoy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.i-am-bored.com/bored_link.cfm?link_id=21629"&gt;Why People Think Americans are Stupid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1117577965671377048?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1117577965671377048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1117577965671377048' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1117577965671377048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1117577965671377048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/why-people-think-americans-are-stupid.html' title='Why People Think Americans are Stupid'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5269050581141537763</id><published>2007-02-18T11:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T11:43:45.574-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lists'/><title type='text'>What a lot of people seem to expect from their significant others...and it's PATHETIC</title><content type='html'>"You sit there in your heart ache. Waitin on some beautiful boy to &lt;strong&gt;save you&lt;/strong&gt; from your old ways. you pray forgiveness. Watch it now. Here he comes. He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman--like you imagined when you were young."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: The Killers Song: When you were young&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Isn't anyone trying to find me? Won't somebody come take me home? Its a damn cold night. Trying to figure out this life. Won't you take me by the hand? &lt;strong&gt;Take me somewhere new&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't know who you are, but I'm with you." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Avril Lavigne Song: I'm With You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Wake me up. Wake me up inside. &lt;strong&gt;Save me.&lt;/strong&gt; Call my name and save me from the dark. Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. &lt;strong&gt;Save me.&lt;/strong&gt; Save me from the nothing I've become....breathe into me and make me real. Bring me to life." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Evanescence Song: Bring me to life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.wegoglobal.com/Sad%20girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If you want to. &lt;strong&gt;I can save you.&lt;/strong&gt; I can take you away from here. So lonely inside. So busy out there. All you wanted was somebody who cared. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Michelle Branch Song: All you wanted &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Prison gates won't open up for me. With these broken wings i'm falling. All I&lt;strong&gt; need&lt;/strong&gt; is &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;. Well these city walls ain't got no love for me. I'm on the ledge of the 18th story, and oh I scream for you. Come please I'm calling. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Nickelback Song: &lt;strong&gt;Savin' Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" A hundred days have made me older since the last time that i saw your pretty face. A thousand lives have made me colder and i don't think I can look at this the same. All the miles that separate....I'm here without you baby. But you're still on my lonely mind..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Three Doors Down Song: &lt;strong&gt;Here Without You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"...&lt;strong&gt;since you've been gone. I can't breathe for the first time&lt;/strong&gt;...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Artist: Kelly clarkson Song: Since You've Been Gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was the point of all of these quotes, you ask? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doesn't seem as though all the propaganda is pointing toward making up believe that a significant other can solve all of the problems in our lives...and "save" us? Obviously this isn't true. So, when then is one out of every 3 songs about something depressing, and someone asking their love to come back because they "need" them to save them? It's pathetic. That's all I have to say. What happened to people saving themselves? Why do they need someone to save them? What happened to independence? What happened to confidence? The simple message this sends to little kids is that they need to sit back and let life take them for a ride, because sooner or later, someone of the opposite sex is going to come and "save" them. Why aren't we doing anything to stop this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5269050581141537763?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5269050581141537763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5269050581141537763' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5269050581141537763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5269050581141537763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/what-lot-of-people-seem-to-expect-from.html' title='What a lot of people seem to expect from their significant others...and it&apos;s PATHETIC'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-159217609396493541</id><published>2007-02-14T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T21:57:02.423-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Who are you?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had a close friend to whom you confide your deespest secrets? Have you ever felt like no matter how much you offer your experiences onto them, they still seem distant?&lt;br /&gt;I've been wondering what it is about people that makes them so distant from the rest of us. I think that people are afraid of being judged, even when it comes to the friends they hang out with all the time. It's like saying "I'm afraid to tell you who I am- to open myself to you, because if I do, then you might not like it- and i'm all that I've got." &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.leademcounseling.com/images/store/books/afraid_to_tell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Regardless, I think that interpersonal relationships are the strongest thing that we can build. Everything else in life can fail us, can leave us, but the friendships and the trusts that we build right now will last forever. In that respect, I feel badly for those people who are just living life for what they have to deal with right now without thinking about all the things that they could be doing. When people like this don't have a plan, they don't really pay a whole lot of attention to the kind of relationships they build at the present. To them, everything is about what feels good in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;But even more than that, I earnestly believe that we, as people, need each other. It's like the psychology of babies that die if they aren't held when they are young. People need each other. When someone is so distant that they don't really confide in anyone, they can very easily go into depression, high stress, etc.&lt;br /&gt;So, why don't we look to our friends who are distant from us and help them out? We should talk to them, and make them talk to us. I guarentee that they usually have something going on, and are just afraid of telling us for fear of being judged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-159217609396493541?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/159217609396493541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=159217609396493541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/159217609396493541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/159217609396493541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/who-are-you.html' title='Who are you?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-6461306488897843517</id><published>2007-02-13T12:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T15:52:36.855-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Sexuality and Sensuality- what really attracts us to certain people</title><content type='html'>Since it's close to valentine's day, i'm in the mood for something lovey-dovey. So, here it goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've been attracted to another human being before (if not, I'm really worried about you). But have you ever wondered why you were attracted to them, instead of the thousands of others who might have better suited you? You think you were attracted to the person's looks, their personality, or their thoughts- but really, you weren't. It's actually a little something called a pheromone (maybe you've heard of it?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031082332709507122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtW_7HQPNig/RdH-uczk0DI/AAAAAAAAABM/hw5h7LpiP0U/s200/CariDee_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Scientifically speaking, a pheromone is any chemical or set of chemicals produced by a living organism that transmits a message to other members of the same species. So, in other words, when you're attracted to another person, it's not really about their looks or their personality. It's about their smell.&lt;br /&gt;And no, I don't mean their stink.&lt;br /&gt;In nature, pheromones are natural sex-attracting-agents, that are released by the body in order to attract suitable mates. So, there you have it. You're more like animals than you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.pauldavidson.net/wp-content/themes/wfme/images/entries/abercrombie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Oh! And have you ever wondered why guys always get chocolates for girls on Valentine's day? It's not just a fun romantic gesture that tastes awesome. Phenylethylamine is the chemical in chocolate that induces love- kind of like an aphordisiac. In techy terms, it raises blood pressure and blood glucose levels. The results is that we feel more alert and gives us a sense of well being and contentment. It is believed to work by making the brain release b-endorphin, an opioid peptide which is the driving force behind the pleasurable effects- so much so that people have dubbed it "the love drug."&lt;br /&gt;Just thought i'd throw out some fun facts there for Valentine's day! Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-6461306488897843517?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/6461306488897843517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=6461306488897843517' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6461306488897843517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/6461306488897843517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/sexuality-and-sensuality-what-really.html' title='Sexuality and Sensuality- what really attracts us to certain people'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtW_7HQPNig/RdH-uczk0DI/AAAAAAAAABM/hw5h7LpiP0U/s72-c/CariDee_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8170146747704048738</id><published>2007-02-11T08:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T19:46:27.450-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>The way you LOOK MATTERS!</title><content type='html'>We would all like to believe that we live in an ideal society in which looks and appearances don't matter at all. Sadly enough, we don't live in that society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I saw a big guy walking down the street looking mad, I am likely to avoid walking down that same street, even if he is a completely harmless person who always looks that way. If I conducting an interview, and a guy shows up there looking starved in horrible clothes, I am likely to not hire him. And this isn't just me being prejudiced. Talk to any company's chairman or C.E.O and ask them if they would like grungy-looking people working for them. I'm willing to bet a million dollars that they will say no. And it's not that they are "mean people." It's because appearances matter. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Appearances say a lot about a person: whether they are rich or poor, educated or uneducated, responsible or careless, trustworthy or untrustworthy...well, you get the picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.elegant-lifestyle.com/BWelldr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And it's not just with interviews either. Say you really like a girl, and you want to ask her out. Say she's into the punk-rocker type. If you go up to her and ask her out wearing a nice shirt and a tie, she is likely to say no to you. And it might be that you really like rock and that you guys would be perfect for each other, but the way you look would turn her off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're a musician and you come to a competition without being dressed in "proper" concert attire, the judges are likely to keep from giving you the 1st place prize. It wouldn't matter whether or not you were a brillinant musician. The way you look would have already set their opinion of you, even before you started playing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not saying it's right or wrong. It's just the way life is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8170146747704048738?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8170146747704048738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8170146747704048738' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8170146747704048738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8170146747704048738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/02/way-you-look-matters.html' title='The way you LOOK MATTERS!'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5521746277121841490</id><published>2007-01-25T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T19:08:33.066-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Psychics, Ghosts, and Goblins...</title><content type='html'>There are many of you out there who believe that Ghosts really exist. And ofcourse shows like "Unsolvable Mysteries" hype up the whole thing about the paranormal. They constantly bombard our brains with stories of cars that stop in the middle of an abandoned bridge because they keep seeing a girl crossing it, but when they stop to look around, the girl is nowhere to be seen. Or, they tell us about these stories of restaraunt where glasses keep moving as though of their own accord. Well, listen to this story, and tell me what you think. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/2146/image/girlwind.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I was watching t.v. the other day, and saw this program about a psychic lady. A woman in the audience aparently had a child who kept seeing things at night. People, she said, who wanted to take her daughter away from her. Her daughter had apparently told her that this woman wore a blue dress, and looked quite frightening. The woman went to many doctors, it seems, who all diagnosed that her daughter had night terrors, but she did not want to believe them. So, this psychic lady looked at her and told her that this ghost's name was "Jane." She said that Jane had lost her daughter to small pox, and wanted to compensate for it. She then told the woman to take a crucifix and holy water and go to her daughter's room, and tell the ghost to go away. "Jane has no choice but to go," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is my question: If our soul can roam around as a ghost after we die, how can that soul be wearing clothes? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my point. There are so many people out there who believe in ghosts. If they are dead, and no longer belonging to their body, how can they be wearing clothes? Can they take their clothes with them after they die or something? And also, people keep constantly mentioning that there are these dead spirits who roam around, but what about other animals? What about the dogs and cats who die in people's houses? Do they roam around the house with the leashes and collars after they die as well? I think not. So, ghosts aren't real- and I have proven my point once and for all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5521746277121841490?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5521746277121841490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5521746277121841490' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5521746277121841490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5521746277121841490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/01/psychics-ghosts-and-goblins.html' title='Psychics, Ghosts, and Goblins...'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5419015781408305074</id><published>2007-01-20T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T17:40:21.597-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Guardian Angels?</title><content type='html'>This post is inspired by Sarah McLachlan's "Angel." I was driving home from the mall with my friend the other day. It had just rained very hard outside. As we went down a slope, the car we were in skidded and we went spinning around in circles for a good thirty seconds. Somehow, though, there were no other cars around at that time. And so, here I am today, writing this post, instead of being dead. So, I have to wonder about guardian angels. Do they really exist? &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.azlovepoems.com/images/jonathon1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember that in a socratian seminar during my Freshman year, I voiced very openly that a Guardian Angel was an entirely fictionaly entity and that human beings only make them up so that we can feel a little less afraid about being in this world by ourselves- that we are only trying to fool ourselves. But recent events make me want to rethink my beliefs. Maybe it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; just utter coincidence that I didn't die that day, but what about all those other instances when my neck has been saved?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can think of plenty of instances just out of the top of my head. There was one instance when I was much younger, when my friends and I went sledding down a slopey hill. The three of us, stupidly, were riding on the same sled, with me at the front. This was my first time on that type of sled, and I did not know how to navigate it. As we went down the hill, I realized that the snow shoveling trucks with their bladed edges were lined up at the bottom. I tried my best to pull the other way so that we should head straight for them, but nothing worked. We ended up going straight for one of the trucks. Miraculously enough, we didn't land on the blades. Once we all got off, somewhat speechless about the fact that we were still alive, we noticed that the blades in that part were broken off. I couldn't understand, why or how, but none of us were even slightly hurt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was also the time when I was crossing the road. There were a lot of cars going both ways, as it was Monday evening, and that road was connected the freeway. My friend and I had to wait until the signals on both ends changed before crossing (obviously) but even that was dangerous. We were both being young and dumb, naturally, and so we did not heed the advice of our parents who told us not to cross that road, which really wasn't meant for pedestrian crossing, if the signs that prohibited it were any indication. One day, we were crossing the road, completely blind to the cars that were comming by. There was one car that was going at atleast 60 MPH, which was well above the speed limit. I hadn't noticed that car at first, but my friend did and yelled a shocked "look out!" What happened next was incredible. The car's driver hit the breaks and he stopped within 20 feet-- when he was going 60 miles an HOUR! The cart stopped just inches away from my foot. It is amazing that I wasn't atleast in the ICU ward that day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what to make of all of these instances, and of course there are more like this. But in the interest of keeping this from being the longest post in history, I will stop here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5419015781408305074?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5419015781408305074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5419015781408305074' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5419015781408305074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5419015781408305074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/01/guardian-angels.html' title='Guardian Angels?'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-8396411923573648181</id><published>2007-01-14T23:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:14:32.097-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>When the weak were weeded out</title><content type='html'>One of the greatest things about life is sort of an altered version of the "survival of the fittest" concept. Most people grow up in one place, and they get used to the environment they live in. When something comes along that requires them to change who they are, however, they become crippled. They only remember the things that they were used to. They can't see the importance of fitting into a new environment. Once they get there, they do everything to hold on to the old environment that they lived in. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.43things.com/place/00/03/19/203223lr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;What they don't realize is that the old environment doesn't want them anymore. They become obsolete to that kind of existance, and when they don't give in to accepting the new kind of existance, things go arwy. And I can't honestly say that I feel sorry for these kinds of people. The saddest part about all of this is that most of these people don't even know that they need change. They don't realize that they have a problem. All they see is that they miss their old lives, and that they would do anything to hold onto it. It's this kind of people that don't know how to adapt, how to live. They hang on to the things that hold them down because it's all they know. If they loose the only things that they know, then to them, it's like they have nothing. This may not be true, because people gain and loose things all the time. But, these species of people can't survive outside their shell. They turn their backs on anything that they don't like. Anything that they can't accept, when the truth is that they don't want to accept it. They, then, end up living in a sort of pseudo-nightmare that they have created for themselves. They end up being stuck in two places at the same time, when neither of these places can truely accept the kind of people they are. This is a horrible kind of existance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-8396411923573648181?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/8396411923573648181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=8396411923573648181' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8396411923573648181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/8396411923573648181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/01/when-weak-were-weeded-out_14.html' title='When the weak were weeded out'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-5140217928078748120</id><published>2007-01-07T19:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T19:39:21.307-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>The Human Psyche- things we do for no reason whatsoever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;If you're feeling averted by the title, never fear. This isn't some sort of research paper. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://alain-lefebvre.viabloga.com/images/smoking_lounge.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I volunteer at a hospital on weekends, and have been noticing something funny that I've been meaning to write about. So, here it goes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever visited a hospital, and seen a smoker's section right outside? It is extremely funny, since doctors, who are supposed to be knowledgeable about matters of health, are the only ones seen inside these smoking sections, happily puffing away their cigarettes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I'm not going to go off on a long tirade about how smoking is bad for you, because if you haven't realized it by now, no amount of arguing on my part is going to convince you that it is detrimental to your health. And honestly, I don't have a problem with people wanting to kill themselves. As long as I'm not affected by the second hand smoke that they give out, I don't really care if the die of emphysema or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In fact, this article isn't about smoking, but about the stupid things that we do, when we have no reason to do them. I asked a smoker once why they smoke, and she couldn't give me a straight answer. "I guess I started in high school when I moved to a new school where I didn't know anyone," she said. "The only people who'd hang out with me were smokers. So, I started smoking." "So why did you keep up with it after high school?" I asked. To this question, she simply shrugged and said, "I don't know. I guess I do it to relax..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this was just an excuse. There are plenty of healthy things that a person can do to relax. Really, it's just something that she started a long time ago, and consciously made a habit. It's something she wanted to do, and didn't attempt to stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand drug usage, coffee addictions, over eating, alcohol addiction, suicide attempts, etc... all of these are things that people do if they are seriously stressed/ distressed. But smoking isn't something that many people start because the are depressed. And even if they do, it isn't something they continue with because they are depressed. So, why do it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-5140217928078748120?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/5140217928078748120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=5140217928078748120' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5140217928078748120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/5140217928078748120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/01/human-psyche-things-we-do-for-no-reason.html' title='The Human Psyche- things we do for no reason whatsoever'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-1927057716182309325</id><published>2007-01-07T11:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T11:36:55.291-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>You'll be safe in my mind forever</title><content type='html'>When we are young, we dream about many things. Some of us dream of being leaders of the free world. Others dream of making small, yet significant changes. Others still dream of success, of fame, of legacy. As time goes on, however, we begin to want diffrent things, that we dub as "more realistic." &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.fromoldbooks.org/MeadClarke-ChristianParlorMagazine-Vol-III/pages/000a-Dream-of-jacob/000a-Dream-of-jacob-q75-1082x1484.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is perhaps true that the safest place for a dream is in our hearts and minds. There, these dreams cannot be disturbed or questioned. We do not have to worry about failure. In our minds, they exist in their purest form: Safe, protected, and ultimately unharmed. It is when these so-called "dreams" turn into "goals" that the problems begin. With goals, everything is about success (or level of success) and failure. Everything is about accomplishment. Everything is about "doing it right." It's not like that with dreams. We can proceed on with fantasies in our minds, dreaming of fancy cars and vacations in Haiti.&lt;br /&gt;Consider this. Someone told me once that Fear is the greatest thing that the human mind can experience. It has the power to motivate our actions to great extents, and the power to criple them completely. People have different ways of dealing with fear. There are those of us who would do anything to keep from experiencing it, and those of us who do nothing but succumb to it, letting it take over us and feed on us, until we are nothing but a group of machines going through the repetitive motions of life. The regretful part about all of this is that Fear is not an emotion that is alien to anybody. We have all experienced it in some form or another.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for some reason, when it comes to the things that should have the greatest impact on our lives, we let fear take control of us, making us into hopeless bowls of jell-o. We don't do anything to tell ourselves that are dreams really are acievable. We don't equip ourselves to achieve those dreams. This is why we call them "dreams," not "realities." Few people realize that they can actally be C.E.O.s of multi-billion dollar companies if they just set goals for everything. If someone wants something bad enough they'd do anything to get it. It's those of us who are cowardly that watch other people live our dreams, turn seventy, and think to ourselves, "if only..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-1927057716182309325?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/1927057716182309325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=1927057716182309325' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1927057716182309325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/1927057716182309325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2007/01/youll-be-safe-in-my-mind-forever.html' title='You&apos;ll be safe in my mind forever'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4802431795781673680</id><published>2006-12-30T17:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T17:52:02.914-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Colorblind and lost</title><content type='html'>There are so many people on Earth. Each of us has our own story; our own history; our own reason to live; our own purpose in life; our own drive to live. But sometimes we just pass through life without noticing anything. It's like we're in some sort of silent, black and white movie, where everything is artificial. We just go through the motions of life and hope for the best in what happens. We loose ourselves to the rush of it all. That's it. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.residencexii.org/images/sad-woman2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This post is entirely inspired by my friend's overwhelming obsession with photography. One of the pictures in her work stuck out to me, and stuck with me. It was a picture of an old woman with a tear in the corner of her eye. She was sitting at a bus stop by herself. Cars were passing by, people were walking by her. In the midst of all of this, no one even bothered to stop during their busy day to ask her what was wrong. She seemed so lonely, and so helpless. This picture embodied the true meaning of being surrounded by many, many people, but still being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This picture got me thinking...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many of us can honestly say that we notice intricate details of life such as this? How many of us can honestly say that in the busy rush of the mornings, we stop and wonder about the story of the poor homeless man on the corner of the street? I'm sure that the homeless man in the corner of the street has his own story. Isn't it interesting that when we distinguish the human race by pointing out our intenligence and ability to have compassion, we still go through life treating people like dirt?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is so important in life that we have to rush through it in such a manner? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if life is all about doing as much as we can, without paying attention to the little things, then why live it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4802431795781673680?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4802431795781673680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4802431795781673680' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4802431795781673680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4802431795781673680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2006/12/colorblind-and-lost.html' title='Colorblind and lost'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37152923.post-4823851903387017076</id><published>2006-12-26T18:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T19:10:19.938-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lists'/><title type='text'>Some interesting ppl who hv been on earth</title><content type='html'>6) Adolf Hitler (April 20, 1889 April 30, 1945) was the Chancellor of Germany from 1933, and the "Führer" (Leader) of Germany from 1934 until his death. He was leader of the National Socialist German Workers Party (Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei or NSDAP), better known as the Nazi Party.Hitler gained power in a Germany facing crisis after World War I. Using propaganda and charismatic oratory, he was able to appeal to the economic need of the lower and middle classes, while sounding resonant chords of nationalism, anti-Semitism and anti-communism. With the establishment of a restructured economy, a rearmed military, and a totalitarian regime, Hitler pursued an aggressive foreign policy with the intention of expanding German Lebensraum ("living space"), which triggered World War II when Germany invaded Poland. At its greatest extent, Nazi Germany occupied most of Europe, but along with the other Axis Powers it was eventually defeated by the Allies. By then, Hitler's racial policies had culminated in a genocide of approximately eleven million people, including about six million Jews, in what is now known as the Holocaust.In the final days of the war, Hitler along with his new wife, Eva Braun, committed suicide in his underground bunker in Berlin, after the city was surrounded by the Soviet army.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)Condoleezza Rice (born November 14, 1954 in Birmingham, Alabama) is the 66th United States Secretary of State, and the second in the administration of President George W. Bush to hold the office. She succeeded Colin Powell on January 26, 2005, after his resignation. Rice is the first African American woman, second African American (after Powell), and second woman (after Madeleine Albright) to serve as secretary of state.Condoleezza Rice was Bush's National Security Advisor during his first term. Before joining the Bush administration, she was a Professor of political science at Stanford University where she served as Provost from 1993 to 1999.During the administration of George H. W. Bush, Rice also served as the Soviet and East European Affairs Advisor during the dissolution of the Soviet Union and German reunification.Rice's role as advisor to the President and chief diplomat for the United States during a period of intense criticism of America's War on Terror has made her a controversial figure, although she currently has the highest public approval and favorability ratings of any administration official.In 2004 and 2005, she was ranked as the most powerful woman in the world by Forbes magazine and number two in 2006. She is also one of only two African Americans to have been repeatedly ranked among the world's 100 most influential people by Time magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)Madonna Louise Ciccone (born August 16, 1958), better known worldwide as simply Madonna, is an iconic American Grammy award winning pop singer, songwriter, musician, record and film producer, dancer, actress, author and a fashion icon. She is usually noted for her innovative music videos, elaborately mounted stage performances, and use of political, sexual, and religious themes and imagery in her work. She is commonly referred to as the "Queen of Pop".&lt;br /&gt;In 2000, Guinness World Records credited Madonna as the most successful female recording artist of all time, with estimated worldwide sales of 120 million albums. Her record company credits her as having sold over 200 million records worldwide. Madonna is the highest earning female singer of all time, according to the 2007 Guinness Book of Records, and, according to Billboard Magazine, Madonna's 2006 Confessions Tour was the most successful concert tour of a female artist in history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)Warren Edward Buffett (b. August 30, 1930, Omaha, Nebraska) is an American investor, businessman and philanthropist.Nicknamed the "Oracle of Omaha" or the "Sage of Omaha", Buffett has amassed an enormous fortune from astute investments, particularly through the company Berkshire Hathaway, of which he is the largest shareholder and CEO. With an estimated current net worth of around US$46 billion, he is ranked by Forbes as the second-richest person in the world, behind only Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates.In June 2006, he made a commitment to give away his fortune to charity, with 85% of it going to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.Buffett's donation was the largest act of charitable giving in United States history.Despite his immense wealth, Buffett is famous for his unpretentious and frugal lifestyle. When he spent $6.7 million of Berkshire's funds on a corporate jet in 1989, he jokingly named it "The Indefensible" because of his past criticisms of such purchases by other CEOs. He continues to live in the same house in the central Dundee neighborhood of Omaha Nebraska that he bought in 1958 for $31,500 (although he also owns a mansion in Laguna Beach, California).His annual salary of $100,000 is tiny by the standards of senior executive remuneration in other S&amp;P 500 companies, which averaged about $9 million in 2003.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) William Henry Gates III (born October 28, 1955 in Seattle, Washington) is an American entrepreneur and the co-founder, chairman, former chief software architect, and former chief executive officer of Microsoft, the world's largest software company. Forbes magazine's The World's Billionaires list has ranked him as the richest person on earth for the last thirteen consecutive years, with a current net worth of approximately $53 billion. When family wealth is considered, his family ranks second behind the Walton family.&lt;br /&gt;Gates is one of the best-known entrepreneurs of the personal computer revolution. He is widely respected for his foresight and ambition. He is also sometimes criticized as having built Microsoft through unfair or unlawful business practices. Since amassing his fortune, Gates has pursued a number of philanthropic endeavors, donating large amounts of money to various charitable organizations and scientific research programs through the Bill &amp; Melinda Gates Foundation, founded in 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Oprah Winfrey (born January 29, 1954) is an American multiple-Emmy Award winning host of The Oprah Winfrey Show, the highest rated talk show in television history. She is also an influential book critic, an Academy Award-nominated actress, and a magazine publisher. According to Forbes magazine, she was the richest African American of the 20th century and the world's only Black billionaire for three straight years. Life magazine has ranked her as the most influential woman of her generation and Time magazine as one of only four people to have shaped both the 20th century and the early 21st. In 2005, Business Week ranked her as the greatest Black philanthropist in American history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37152923-4823851903387017076?l=bluepjs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/feeds/4823851903387017076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37152923&amp;postID=4823851903387017076' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4823851903387017076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37152923/posts/default/4823851903387017076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluepjs.blogspot.com/2006/12/some-interesting-ppl-who-hv-been-on.html' title='Some interesting ppl who hv been on earth'/><author><name>Wind Whisperer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01254070189686697768</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
