<?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-672814086577808406</id><updated>2011-12-19T07:03:14.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Hide So Well</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4139248257030481768</id><published>2010-09-19T00:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T00:28:10.357-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody's guess where I'd land</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I feel incredibly lost right now. I know in life there's typically more questions than answers anyway, but it'd be nice to have even one answer for the thoughts and questions that constantly seem to be rolling around in my head lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was someone my friends were proud of; my family was proud of. I wish there was something special about me that they all could be proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom told me today that I drive her crazy. To be fair, I told her that she has been driving me crazy. I can only take so much of her talking to me as if I'm 12 and under. Or point blank telling me how things that are important to me don't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could really use a hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4139248257030481768?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4139248257030481768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4139248257030481768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4139248257030481768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4139248257030481768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/09/anybodys-guess-where-id-land.html' title='Anybody&apos;s guess where I&apos;d land'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7944814839649331808</id><published>2010-08-31T23:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T00:05:52.961-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd give anything for another endless summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My whole life, I've felt like I don't really fit in. Elementary school through high school I bounced around between different groups of "friends". Played soccer, basketball, softball, threw shot put for a year, did band, chorus, youth group at church. I did all these activities surrounded with people, but I always felt like I was just there; like it didn't really matter one way or another to anyone. I've never had that one person I can turn to no matter what. I've always wondered what it would be like to have someone to just talk to about anything and everything. Someone to go places with. Someone who would know when I was having a bad day or a good day and care about both equally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this summer happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent an incredible 3 weeks in North Carolina and Nashville with Holly, where we laughed, traveled, sang, shopped, and formed bonds with Sarah, Jedd, Emily and Little Big Town, as well as continuing to form bonds with each other. I finally got to see Mandie again and bring her along for part of the adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget being with them. For the first time, I felt wanted. Comfortable. Free. Loved. Happy. Even in the midst of all the sickness and uncertainty and fighting and loneliness that has happened since finishing school in April. For the first time I felt like I was important to someone not because of something I could give them, or do for them. But just because of who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to hold on to this feeling especially when all I can do is sit in my room and cry after my mother tells me that nothing that matters to me is important, I'm not focused enough on my life and things that actually matter and how she doesn't want to hear me complain anymore because she can't take it, and then she acts like she never said any of that/it never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I  don't know what I'd do without Holly. (Or Mandie, even Rob) Or without  Sarah's encouragement and essentially, love, that has come unexpectedly  at just the right moments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7944814839649331808?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7944814839649331808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7944814839649331808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7944814839649331808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7944814839649331808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/08/id-give-anything-for-another-endless.html' title='I&apos;d give anything for another endless summer'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-992207396604207619</id><published>2010-08-09T23:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T00:05:06.717-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't have to be struck to leave a mark</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wonder if there will ever be a day that my mother doesn't tear me apart. Or if there will ever be a day where she stops treating me like I'm 12. Her favorite things to do  are use the words lazy, selfish, heartless, ugly and ungrateful to describe me. Her other favorite thing to do is tell me she doesn't know why she bothers with me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many more times can she break me? Yell at me that I'm never honest with her and then when I honestly tell her how she makes me feel, yell at me some more to tell me how I exaggerate and twist her words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I can't help but think about how I wasn't supposed to be here. How my mom was supposed to be too old to have kids. But here I am. Why? I wish I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the words of Sarah, I guess I'm still learning "the art of tunnel vision" and "cutting those feelings off at the knees".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-992207396604207619?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/992207396604207619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=992207396604207619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/992207396604207619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/992207396604207619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-dont-have-to-be-struck-to-leave.html' title='You don&apos;t have to be struck to leave a mark'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8474010384910014758</id><published>2010-08-03T10:50:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T12:46:59.478-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If a girl like me can do it, sister, I believe anybody can</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First of all, BUXTON HUGHES ARE THE MOST INCREDIBLE PEOPLE ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH. There, I said it. haha They played a free show at the Wolf Den in the Mohegan Sun Casino in Uncasville, CT the other night. I'd never been to this casino before, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect. When we got there, I was in awe. This was probably the most beautiful casino I'd ever seen. The sculptures and the art and the decor and everything was just gorgeous! And SO cool. There were a ton of restaurants and neat shops and I'd definitely love to go back some time to be able to see it all, since I spent a majority of the day standing in line for the show since the seating was first come first serve :) The area for the show was actually really neat. It was this open mini amphitheater in the center of the casino. It had like an outer ring when you first walked into it and then a "pit" where you walked 2 steps down and there were more tables and some circular booths on the side. The stage came out of this like mountain that served as the backdrop/back wall of it, and the sides were open so people all over the casino could see in/stand and watch too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, nothing really exciting happened until 5pm. I was talking to my dad at the time, telling him that I thought they'd be letting us in soon and if he and my mom didn't come back in time they wouldn't let us all in together. As I finish explaining that to him, I turn around and suddenly there's a small group of people walking by right next to where we're all standing in line. It was Sarah, their manager Betsy and Jedd! Sarah was about to walk in to the little amphitheater and I called her name but she didn't hear me. Then I looked to my left and Jedd was right next to me! I said his name and he turned towards me, and his eyes lit up. He said, "Heyyy girl! How are you?" and came over to give me a big hug. Then he walked into the little amphitheater too and they did sound check. During sound check, they played 2 new songs and I was pretty excited about that. They also did Endless Summer too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as their sound check was done, and they walked, literally, into the mountain part that was the tiny backstage area, they started letting people inside. I really liked the way they did it because you went up to the woman with the seating chart, and they seated one party at a time like you were at a restaurant. I was about 10th or so in line, and when we got up to her, she asked, "Would you like front row?" haha Uh, yes please! So another lady escorted us down to a table that was right against the stage and under Jedd's microphone! The table had 3 chairs on each side and I sat in the one chair closest to the stage. The stage was set up pretty high so my neck's still feeling it today, but it was totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They started the show with Sweet On You, and I was definitely jamming/singing along in my seat haha Towards the end of the song Sarah comes over to sing with Jedd and all the sudden she looks down. I held up the new FB friends sign I made them a little bit and Sarah got a big smile on her face and pointed at me. It was adorable to see her expression change when she saw it was me. It made me feel so glad that I was able to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they played That Kind of Day and Woman Like That, which were SO MUCH FUN! Sarah was definitely rocking the harmonica on those. Woman Like That especially sounded great with Jedd and the full band behind them. Seeing them do that one reminded me of Allison, Hannah and Becky when Sarah did that at the ABC tent last year at CMA Fest when we were jamming. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next they did American Daughters, which has recently become one of my favorites of theirs. I used to not like it as much for some reason; maybe I just didn't really appreciate what it all meant? Either way, I've been listening to that song a lot this summer, and the first verse especially, really gets me/makes me feel empowered in a way. When the song started, Sarah was standing next to Jedd and she was singing the first verse. All the sudden, when she got to the lines "If a girl like me can do it sister, I believe anybody can," she looked right at me, pointed and sang those lines to me. In that moment, I felt like I did at the Throwdown tour; like she was really telling me that, like she believed in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also played Full Grown Woman, which is a fairly old school Sarah song, and I was pretty excited about that. Jedd's harmonies on it really added to the song and it was so awesome! I think it was at this point that Sarah started talking about forming Buxton Hughes, and I held up the FB "WE NEED FRIENDS" sign kind of as a part II to the one Holly, Mandie and I made for Throwdown haha Jedd saw it and smiled and I handed it to him and he held it up. He said, "Yes, you should check us out on...well, someone else has said it better than I could." He and Sarah read the sign and were cracking up and Sarah told everyone to "Like" them on Facebook haha I thought Jedd was going to give the sign back and I told him to keep it, but he said, "Nope, I'm going to set it right here," and he stood it up in front of a monitor, where it stayed for the rest of the show haha I love seeing them sing Big Blue Sky, especially when Jedd comes in on "Let's start making plans..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they did Endless Summer, which is probably one of my favorite Buxton Hughes songs. The first time I saw them sing that was in Trenton in April, and the 'full band' version is AWESOME. Jedd sings the second verse now, and it's just full of energy! Sarah busted out the tambourine for it and they were having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next they did one of the new songs, called Learning to Love Again. OH MY GOSH. This song is BEAUTIFUL. Each verse just builds on the next and by the end of the song you just feel so invested in it and in the story and it just grabs you. Sarah's voice is emotional on it, if that makes sense. Everyone needs to check out the song in the video below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vOMhBHAyjI8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&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/vOMhBHAyjI8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" 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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then it was time for Outside My Window! Sarah introduced the song by saying, "Well now is normally the time where we invite any kids up here to sing the song with us...but I don't see any of those tonight!" haha Then she gave an open invitation to anyone who wanted to to come up and sing it with them. People cheered, including me, and that's when Sarah whipped her head around to look right at me. She said, "Michelle! Do you want to sing? Get on up here!" I can't be sure, but my mouth may or may not have dropped open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shot up out of my seat, and grabbed the girl sitting next to me, who I had met/talked to in line all day. We started looking around, trying to figure out how we were going to get on the stage because there weren't little stairs on the side and it was up pretty high. Sarah must have read our minds because she said, "How are you girls going to get up here? Where can you go?" And she looked off to the side at one of the security guys, and he happened to be standing next to the little backstage door that we could get to by walking around the outer circle of tables. So he motioned us over and we hurried over there, weaving through tables and people haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we made our way, Sarah announced to everyone that they were going to wait until we got up there to start haha The nice security man let us in the little door and told us to follow the steps in front of us around to the back of the stage. We did, and when we got there, there was Sarah waiting to greet us. She came over to us and in to her mic she said, "MICHELLE BELL SIXTEEEEENNNNN" and then threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. I was cracking up that she called me by my twitter name in front of everyone. Then she asked the other girl her name, and gave her a big hug. Sarah led us to the front of the stage, where Jedd said hi to us and gave us hugs. By that time, 2 other ladies had joined us too, so it was the 4 of us. Right before Sarah was about to start, I asked her where her tambourine was, and she got it for me to play during the song haha The other 3 girls were standing around Sarah and I was next to the one girl and then next to Jedd, and I was going to stay there and let the other girls get to sing with Sarah. At one point in the beginning half of the song Jedd was playing and laughing right next to me and I turned and played the tambourine off his shoulder haha It was hilarious and we were having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also in the beginning half of the song, Sarah kept pointing at Jedd's open mic and she wanted us to sing in to it. It was too high for us because we were all shorter, and Jedd came over and lowered it down haha We didn't know that they actually wanted us to sing it sing it into the mic with them! haha Me and the one girl I was next to kind of tried to sing in to the mic but it was kind of intimidating haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the 2nd verse, the 4 of us and Sarah were singing and looking at each other, and when we sang, "Sails in the sunlight, rocking in the sweetest motion," Sarah and I did the rocking motion like she does in the video haha Then as we're singing the next line, Sarah started moving around the other girls towards me. When she got to me she put her arm around me and held the mic up to my face. I think I gave her a look like 'What are you doing??' hahaha But Sarah was pretty determined that I was going to sing with her in her mic because she kept holding it up there. With her arm around me we sang "I know I'm dreaming like a child, but some things just don't go out of style...' together and in my mind at that moment I was like 'Wow, I can't believe this is happening.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah stayed next to me for the rest of the song and there were some points where she'd hold the mic up in between us and one minute we'd be singing together and the next she'd stop singing and make me sing haha I have no idea if you could even hear me because I couldn't really hear anything but the band haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing was seriously amazing and SO MUCH FUN. We were all laughing and having a good time and I think the crowd enjoyed it too. When the song was over, Sarah gave me another huge hug and kiss on the cheek. I told her I loved her and she said she loved me too. Jedd gave me a big hug and kiss too and oh man that can definitely happen again in the future. I'd be ok with that haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the show went by in a blur. The crowd loved Stupid Boy, and Sarah got everyone on their feet for Full Moon Friday :) Then after the show Sarah went across the front of the stage and shook people's hands and when she grabbed mine she was like 'Michelleeee' and I told her I had stuff for her and she got all excited. She told me to meet them at their merch table. I got in line and I was glad to see that a lot of people had stayed after to get in line to meet them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I stood in line a bit and eventually we were next. When the group of women in front of us went up to the table and Sarah looked up, she saw me behind them and said, "Michelle, Michelle, Michelle" and hit the table in excitement haha The one lady in the group needed someone to take a picture for her so Sarah handed me her camera and asked if I'd do it haha After I took her picture and the women said goodbye, it was my turn. Sarah stood up, leaned over the table and grabbed me. While we were hugging, I said, "Thank you so much for your messages" and she said, "Aw you're welcome. How are you?! Are you ok?!" I told her I was doing better and she told me I looked good, which took me by surprise, but thought was so sweet. Then I gave Jedd a big hug and he asked how I was doing haha I tried to play it cool but I was definitely dying on the inside haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I did was hand Sarah her (now belated) birthday cards from me and Holly. I said, "So, Holly and I totally had these birthday cards for you in Nashville but clearly that never happened so they're a little late but here you go!" Sarah cracked up and said thank you and as she looks at the cards, she asked me if the one was my handwriting. The one she was looking at was Holly's, so I told her that wasn't mine, it was her's. Sarah flipped out over Holly's handwriting, it was hilarious. "Oh my gosh! That's like, perfect! Wow, that's like scary precise. Oh my gosh!" It was so funny. Then I handed Sarah a note from Holly's 7 year old neighbor that loves her. Sarah got all excited and said she couldn't wait to read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I handed Sarah a poem I wrote her. I told her, "And I wrote this poem for you. Because I couldn't really say everything I wanted to say in 140 characters." Sarah opened up the paper to look at it real quick, then clutched the paper to her chest and looked me straight in the eye. She said, "You wrote this?! For me...?!" I nodded my head yes and again she was like "No, you wrote this...for me?!" I laughed and said, "Yes, I wrote this, for you!" She held it against her some more and said, "It's ok that I don't read it now right? I don't want to read it in front of you...I need to have a private moment to read it." haha I told her that was fine as long as she tells me that she read it/what she thinks. She promised me she would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(As of right now I haven't heard from her about it and I'm dying to know if she read it/what she thought haha Hopefully she really will tell me somehow. Oh and if you want to read it, let me know and I'll send it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I gave Sarah and Jedd these pictures I'd made them. What I did, was I dried flowers from the garden in my backyard (purple ones for Sarah and red and yellow tiger lillies for Jedd) and I made the treble clef out of the purple ones, and glued it onto scrapbook paper, which turned out to look almost like a script S. So I used that as the S in Sarah's name and then just wrote out the 'arah' next to it in sharpie. Then I figured out that if I inverted the bass clef, it looked like a script J, so then I wrote the 'edd' of Jedd's name out next to that one the scrapbook paper. I wasn't sure if they'd be able to tell what they were, but when I handed them each theirs their mouths dropped open. I told them where I got the flowers from and that I wanted to make musical symbols out of them and at the same time Sarah and I said 'Treble clef' haha Then she pointed at Jedd's and said "That's the bass clef" so I was relieved lol Betsy thought those were pretty neat too, so I was glad they liked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I introduced my parents who were standing behind me, and Sarah and Jedd were excited to formally meet them this time. Sarah told my mom, "We LOVE your daughter" and I missed if my mom had any sort of reaction because I was walking around the table to get in between them for a picture haha My dad reminded Sarah that they'd seen them in Charlotte and that he played the shaker for them and Sarah pointed at him and said, "Ah yes! That was great!" Then Sarah said, "Yeah, we didn't have any drinks spilled this time" which cracked me up haha I said, "Yeah, that other random girl spilled it!" And Sarah cracked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad handed them a graphic I had made that I had intentions of getting signed, but when they looked at it they thought it was cool and thought that it was for them, so I let them have it haha I didn't really need their autograph again, I'd just made it the night before so I'd have something in case the people were strict about needing to have something to sign if you got in line. Sarah and Betsy said that the pictures I used on it were cool and that they wished people would give them cool pictures they take since they don't have any. My dad took the picture of the 3 of us and handed me the camera to check that it came out ok. Jedd, Sarah and inspected it, and Jedd told me he really liked my camera haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom told them that we're going to their show in western NY at the end of the month and they seemed excited about that. My dad told them that we have a cottage a little over an hour from where the show is, and then I told them that the 3 of them are welcome to stay with us for the show if they want to. My dad told them it's on a lake and all their eyes kind of lit up at that. They seemed to be seriously excited about the offer, so I'm crossing my fingers that maybe it just might happen. I mean, it is a free place to stay. I told Jedd we'd take them out on our boat haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while all this conversation has been going on, Sarah and I just kept hugging each other every few minutes. It was so adorable. We'd kind of just look at each other and start hugging and say 'I love you' haha When we were getting ready to finally say goodbye to them, Sarah turned to me and asked me again if I was doing ok and I told her I was. She said she's been doing yoga more like she promised and I told her I'd been walking more like I promised. Then when we were really saying goodbye I told her I was serious about them staying with us and to just let me know and she said she would. And I reminded her again about the poem and she said she'd let me know about that too. So my fingers are definitely crossed about both of those things. We hugged and said I love you like 3 more times and I'm proud of myself that I didn't start to cry even though I wanted to ha I gave Jedd a few more hugs as well and he told me to be safe. I said goodbye and thank you to Betsy and went outside the little gate to my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad was talking to the one guitarist, who actually played with Danny Gokey when he opened for Sugarland when my dad and I went to see them in May! haha My dad was all excited that he recognized him, although I was frustrated with my dad that he never asked the guy his name. The guy was SO nice though. He seriously couldn't say enough good things about Jedd and Sarah and how he loved playing with them and that he hopes he can do it again soon. He said that they're working on a record deal that would be huge for them. He said that they're a pretty big deal in Nashville and just kept going on and on about how talented they were and how genuine they were. He said that if things work out with this record deal and all that stuff, that he thinks they could really be the next HUGE country duo in the next year or two because they're that good. Talking with him, I just felt so proud of Sarah and Jedd. I hope all that comes true because knowing Sarah and Jedd, they'd just be as real as they are now and they truly deserve amazing success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a night! I can't wait until August 28th to see them again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8474010384910014758?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8474010384910014758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8474010384910014758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8474010384910014758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8474010384910014758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/08/if-girl-like-me-can-do-it-sister-i.html' title='If a girl like me can do it, sister, I believe anybody can'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-891543353928796291</id><published>2010-07-19T11:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T11:57:06.208-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't know who I am staring at a million broken pieces here</title><content type='html'>This morning I collapsed on the floor of my room crying for over a half hour. The most embarrassing part is not that it happened in the first place, or that it happened because I weigh almost as much now as I did 4-5 years ago when this all started. It's the fact that my mother walked into my room in the midst of it. I couldn't face her 'I told you so's' so I told her to leave. I'm not going to be able to face her constant questions later, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I can't lose weight like a normal person.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that it's my own body doing this to me.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that it had taken me 3 years to lose 15 pounds or so pounds.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that in the 1 year after that, or I should say only the 1 summer after all that, I managed to gain it all back.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that the only time I actually lost any weight was at school.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that the only reason I lost weight at school is because I wouldn't eat.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that the place I gained weight back every time was at home.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I can't get away with not eating here.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that my home feels toxic somehow.&lt;br /&gt;I hate my mother's judgment.&lt;br /&gt;I hate my mother's constant need to know every move I make.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I'm stuck here at home in this environment where I feel like I'm drowning.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that no matter how hard I've tried to work out the last few weeks at home, I still weigh just as much.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I feel self conscious about attempting to work out in a gym, or work out at all really.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I don't have anyone to take a walk with because it'd ease that self-conscious feeling and that's how I would much rather "work out".&lt;br /&gt;I hate that in this moment I feel like a freak and a failure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-891543353928796291?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/891543353928796291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=891543353928796291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/891543353928796291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/891543353928796291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/07/dont-know-who-i-am-staring-at-million.html' title='Don&apos;t know who I am staring at a million broken pieces here'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7041794703168884992</id><published>2010-06-29T21:53:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T18:52:27.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what you need...bring it on home to me</title><content type='html'>By the time we were done eating, Little Big Town’s set was just about to start. We walked back to the buses and saw Emily again and she asked, “Did you girls find it ok? Were you able to get something to eat?” We told her we had and thanked her again. We asked her and Heather Morgan, who was standing there too, if Sarah and Jedd were still on the bus, to see if they were still working/if we’d missed them since we could hear LBT doing their first song. Heather said she thought they were still on the bus and when she went to open the door to check for us, the door swung open and out came Sarah, apparently on her way to look for us haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Hey! You girls ready? Let’s go!” Sarah exclaimed and we eagerly followed her over to the door leading to the side of the stage. We walked inside and staked out a spot right near some sort of big road case where we laid our stuff. There were some other people standing side stage as well, along with some of the other artists who were watching and Sarah said hi to them while we immersed ourselves in Little Big Town.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqjyS8XQ0I/AAAAAAAAAR8/2ZS4f2Sw2-U/s1600/P1050353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqjyS8XQ0I/AAAAAAAAAR8/2ZS4f2Sw2-U/s320/P1050353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488379180378178370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After Sarah said hi and talked to some people she turned back towards us and we sang and rocked out to the rest of Fine Line. Then, all the sudden, Emily popped up next to Sarah, which was exciting. We all hugged her and said hi, and the 5 of us jammed to some Bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think that Sarah and Emily were as entertained watching the three of us rock to LBT as we were entertained watching the two of them watch LBT haha It was so cool to watch Little Big Town from side stage because we could really see the crowd and their reaction to them and their music. This was especially true during Little Big Town’s new song “The Reason Why”. Emily and Sarah FLIPPED OUT over this song and they knew ALL the words. They were singing it to each other, and to us and it was so fun! The song is SO catchy and by the second chorus Mandie, Holly and I were singing right along too. It was adorable to see how excited they got over that song. Made me even more excited for AUGUST 24th to buy the new CD!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sarah, Emilly, Holly, Mandie and I swayed and sang along to A Little More You, and Sarah and Emily were so cute singing it to each other and us. At one point Emily and Sarah threw their arms around each other and said, “I love you friend”. It was seriously adorable and I had to take a picture of them, so I did. The moment was just so cute that I couldn’t pass it up, so I asked if I could get a picture with the two of them together and they were like, “Heck yes!” I got in between Emily and Sarah for the picture and we all leaned our heads together and hugged while Holly took it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqkVPq4CLI/AAAAAAAAASE/HicpLAyhHHY/s1600/P1050344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqkVPq4CLI/AAAAAAAAASE/HicpLAyhHHY/s320/P1050344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488379780794943666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqkjqnG8NI/AAAAAAAAASM/Lpbe9cbLEXI/s1600/P1050345.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqkjqnG8NI/AAAAAAAAASM/Lpbe9cbLEXI/s320/P1050345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488380028545069266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then, we went back to absolutely jamming to Good as Gone.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When Phillip’s voice rang out through the ampitheater for the beginning of Bring It On Home, Mandie, Holly, Sarah, Emily and I all looked at each other at the same time and cheered so loud. I turned to Sarah and went to high five her over our excitement and love of the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then something happened that I never would have expected, but I know I’ll never forget. Sarah gave me a high five, and squeezed my hand. But as we brought our hands down, she didn’t let go and continued to hold my hand. I looked at her, surprised, and she squeezed my hand again and smiled at me. We swayed back and forth to the song, singing along and still holding hands. As I stood there, listening to Little Big Town’s heart filled harmonies, and each lyric of the song, this wave of disbelief and love and joy just hit me. There I was, standing there, listening to my favorite band, holding the hand of a girl who is honestly one of my heroes, during a song that is pieced together by love and hope. As Sarah kept holding my hand well into the bridge of the song, I felt that with each line of the song that was passing as our hands swung together, Sarah was silently singing the song back to me through her gesture and through that moment. It was as if she was saying, ‘It’s going to be ok’. When our hands finally did let go, all I could do was smile.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the middle of Boondocks, we followed Jedd and Sarah around to the other side of the stage so they could get ready to set up for the mini set on the main stage before Jamey Johnson, and before they would perform again. The funny thing was, as we walked out and around, I’m not sure we stopped singing Boondocks haha By the time we were settled on the other side they were at the “You get a line, I get a pole…” parts, and Sarah and Jedd were singing along to the 2 parts with us too! So fun. After Little Big Town was done, they walked off the stage on the side we were now on, and went right by where we were standing. They saw us as they walked off and gave us all high fives, which was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We watched Sarah and Jedd rock the main stage with Cory, and although we couldn’t see their faces while they performed because we were standing behind them, it was really cool to be able to support them from back there, especially being able to see them when they walked off at the end of their mini set and being able to tell them how great they were. After that, we went back to the buses for a little while so Sarah and Jedd could rehearse Copperhead Road some more last minute before going on with Jamey. Then, when it was time, we followed them back to side stage to wait for their turn to sing with him. We could tell they were really excited, yet nervous about their performance, and we were glad to be able to be standing there cheering them on once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Again, we couldn’t see their faces, but we could tell that they were giving it everything they had, like they always do, when they sang with Jamey. The crowd seemed pretty responsive, and when the song was over, Sarah threw her arms around Jedd and they gave each other a huge hug, which was really touching to see. As soon as they made their way back to us, we gave them big hugs as well and told them how amazing they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The day was finally coming to an end, and Mandie, Holly and I knew it as we looked at each other, following Sarah and Jedd out the door back toward the buses and ultimately, the gate to leave. We stopped though in the open lot a few feet from the gate for one more picture taking/conversation/hugging session before we left. Holly asked Sarah and Jedd to record a video saying hi to her little neighbor, which they were more than happy to do, and which Kendall absolutely loved. After that, we got one last picture with Sarah and Jedd before saying our real goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I said bye to Jedd first, while Holly and Mandie said goodbye to Sarah. He asked, “Did you have fun today? Thank you so much for all your help, we really appreciated it!” All I could do was laugh a little bit because saying I simply ‘had fun’ would have been the understatement of the century.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hugged him tight as I responded, “Yes, I had an incredible day. And it was seriously no problem. Thank YOU for everything that you did for us.” Then we switched, and Holly and Mandie said goodbye to Jedd, while I said goodbye to Sarah.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I turned to face Sarah and the first thing we did was hug. As we were pulling away, she put her hands on my shoulders and looked me right in the eye. She had this determination in her eyes, like she was going to make sure I listened to whatever it was she was about to say. “Michelle, it will get better. You’ll find friends because you’re too awesome not to.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As the words came out of her mouth, I suddenly felt my heart beating faster out of nervousness because I couldn’t believe that she wanted to have this conversation; that she wanted to reassure me and make it a point to tell me what she was saying. I was trying in vain to remember what I’d said about that in the letter I wrote her, to attempt to elaborate on how things have been for the last 8-10 years. I stuttered, “Things were so bad in high school that when college came, I told myself that it would get better. But it didn’t, 4 years later it was just more of the same and I don’t understand if it’s me or what.” Not my most eloquent moment, but I didn’t want to ramble away my chance to hear what Sarah had to say.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sarah continued, “If you think people are your best friends and they treat you like crap and it turns out they’re not? F*** ‘em. I’m sorry for being blunt, but I mean it. You don’t need them. Just let go of your ego and let them go.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And in that moment, I understood exactly what she was saying. I had just graduated college a few weeks prior, and all the people I’d spent 4 years thinking were my good/close friends, I didn’t spend time with any of them; didn’t say any tearful goodbyes or ‘I’ll miss you’s’, let alone any goodbyes at all. I’d been feeling like I was never a part of their lives at all. I was wondering what was wrong with me, what had I done so wrong this whole time. That’s the ego Sarah was talking about. Not ‘look at me, I’m the best, aren’t I so great’, but the ‘what did I do? why aren’t I enough?’ Old habits die hard, but I’ve been trying to remember that advice more and more as the weeks pass by.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, after she said that to me and I was kind of in a state of shock because it was all hitting me, all I could do was hug her again. She held me tight and I whispered, “I hope some day I have a friend like you.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her response? “You do. You have me. You’ll always have me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If I wasn’t in shock before, I definitely was then. I hugged her tighter, bit my lip to suck in the tears threatening my eyes and said, “I love you Sarah” and she said, “I love you too Michelle.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Finally we broke apart, gave one last round of hugs and said goodbye to Sarah and Jedd. Mandie, Holly and I walked together to the gate to go back out on the concourse. As I caught Mandie and Holly's faces in the floodlights, the tears in my eyes trickled out as we all let out an incredulous breath. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7041794703168884992?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7041794703168884992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7041794703168884992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7041794703168884992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7041794703168884992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-know-what-you-needbring-it-on-home-to.html' title='I know what you need...bring it on home to me'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqjyS8XQ0I/AAAAAAAAAR8/2ZS4f2Sw2-U/s72-c/P1050353.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8391090757052147728</id><published>2010-06-29T21:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T21:52:52.698-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The weight of the world is on your shoulders</title><content type='html'>We speed walked to the gate because they had to go on stage with Emily and sing Barbie Doll with Jack Ingram and the three of us were trying to keep up because we have little legs compared to Sarah and Jedd haha It was pretty funny. We were about to walk through the gate with Sarah when the security lady stopped us and asked for our wristbands. We obviously didn’t have any at that moment because they didn’t know we were coming, but Sarah told the lady we were with her. The lady shook her head and wasn’t having any of that. Sarah was kind of frustrated and asked the lady if she got us wristbands could we come back with her. The security lady said yes and we could see the wheels turning in Sarah’s head. She said “Ok girls, you go watch Jack Ingram and I’ll try and find you wristbands and meet you back here afterwards” and it was kind of like ‘ready break’ like we were in the huddle of a neighborhood game of flag football or something haha &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So Mandie, Holly and I walked down into the main ampitheater to watch them do Barbie Doll, all the while wondering if Sarah would A) remember to look for wristbands B) find any wristbands and C) come meet us back at the gate even if she couldn’t find any to let us know that. Emily, Sarah and Jedd doing Barbie Doll with Jack was so much fun and we were like one-two people away from the stage for it. It was a pretty cool angle, although the two guys in front of us were super tall and my arms definitely were feeling it taking video of that song haha When the song was over, we watched them walk off, and walked back over near the gate to wait and see what would happen.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We didn’t want the security lady to think we were trying to go where we didn’t belong or were annoying so we sat on a stone wall across the way so we could still see in the gate since it was open. We watched people go in and out of backstage, wondering what would happen. About 10 minutes or so went by when all the sudden we see someone walking toward the gate with flashes of green. As the person approached, we realized it was Sarah with wristbands in hand! We got up off the wall and met her at the gate and came face to face with the same security lady. Sarah looked at the lady, flashed her the bracelets and with a look of triumph said again, ‘Can they come back now?’ The lady said, “yep,” and Sarah handed each of us a VIP wristband. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We walked back to the bus with Sarah, and there were a lot more people on it than the day before. Everyone was just hanging out, and Troy was there and we told him how nice his sign looked on the bathroom door haha We also saw the purple wall hanging on the window in the front of the bus for everyone to see. It looked really cool there above the table. We sat and talked to Troy for a bit, while everyone else was going in and out of the back of the bus. He said, “Who wants to start a party with me? Come on, I’m trying to get one started” and he grabbed his guitar. He started playing La Bamba haha Then Emily came on the bus and he told her to sing French Blues or something. Not sure how that gets the party started, but it was really funny. Emily sounds amazing singing anything, and it was kind of neat to hear her make up her own “French Blues” song. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Jedd and Sarah had been trying to figure out what song they were singing with Jamey Johnson that night, but when they came out from working on that, the one tour manager said we had to clear the bus because they were doing interviews. Sarah walked off the bus with us and we thought she had to do interviews, but lucky for us, she didn’t. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sarah, Holly, Mandie and I started walking across the open lot backstage, and Sarah recited the words to “Copperhead Road”, which was the song she and Jedd would be performing with Jamey Johnson. None of us knew the song, but it was pretty cool to watch Sarah walk along with us and tell us the whole song, like we were at a poetry reading or something She was pretty proud of herself that she remembered them all after just looking at them a few minutes prior. After she recited the words she asked if we liked Jamey Johnson and looking back, I have to laugh because Jamey Johnson is probably one of my least favorite country artists. But Sarah LOVES him haha She told us how nice he is and how “real” his music is. We told her we didn’t know much of his music, though “In Color” isn’t bad. Sarah was so excited to be singing with Jedd with Jamey Johnson, and although we don’t like him, we were really excited for them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As we were still walking, Sarah then asked if we knew Copperhead Road and we told her no. She told us how it was a Steve Earle song. I wish I could remember exactly how Sarah explained the song to us, because the look on her face and the way she described the song caught my attention and had me interested. I think she said the song was about Vietnam maybe? It’s definitely about a war. She asked if we knew anything about Steve Earle/any of his music. I told her, “Anything I know about Steve Earle is from the Sugarland song” haha At this point we’d stopped walking and stood in a circle on a grassy area backstage. Sarah asked about Sugarland’s song “Steve Earle” and Holly got out her iPod touch, which luckily has the external speaker, and played the song for her. We all swayed along to the song and in the middle of it, Sarah was like “Oh, I have heard this from the record!” When it was over, we all cracked up and Sarah said how she enjoys Sugarland a lot as well. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of course we gushed about how much we loved Sugarland and LBT. It might have been at that point when Holly and I brought up seeing Sarah rocking out to LBT the night before from side stage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I asked, “If you go watch them tonight from side stage do you need some people to rock out with?” She nodded and said, “Yeah definitely! Jedd and I have to rehearse later for playing with Jamey tonight but if we’re done then for sure.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Again, I wish I could remember the exact order of the rest of the conversation, although at the same time, it kind of jumped around to different topics anyway. I think it was after talking about Sugarland LBT when she asked me if I’d seen her tweet to me from the night before about the letter I’d written her. She asked if I’d seen it and I told her I had and she said, “Jedd and I cried reading your letter.” That floored me. I’m pretty sure we hugged and I know I told her that I cried reading her tweets in the middle of the show. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While the four of us were standing there together, it was so comfortable, like the three of us were just simply catching up with Sarah. We talked about music. We talked about being on tour. We talked about friendship. We talked about life in general. We must have stood there talking with Sarah for a half hour. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At one point, Sarah said to us, “I know how awkward being in your 20’s can be. There’s school and work and real life and you kind of feel like you’re torn between all these different things. And you wonder what you’re going to do with your life and what’s going to happen.” That’s when she told us again, “Open your heart to life’s possibilities, they’re out there. You’ll find them.” She looked us in the eye as she said all that, as if she was urging us to believe her and just keep holding on. When she looked at me, it’s like we shared an understanding; that somehow she knew her words were what I needed to hear.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another cool moment was when we were talking about music and how when we’re sad or angry we all just put music on to get those emotions out and Sarah was telling us how she listens to really angry music when she’s upset so she doesn’t have to write it, or something like that haha I said, “My playlist when I’m having a bad day is Remedy and Mississippi’s Crying on repeat”, and Sarah asked me to remind her how Remedy went because it’d been a long time since she’d heard Remedy, even though it’s her own song. Of course, it was one of those moments where I could sing Remedy no problem from memory any other time, but since Sarah had asked me I totally blanked haha &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So Holly got her iPod back out and put it on for us to hear. It’s one of my favorite songs of Sarah’s, and I’ve been dying to hear her actually sing it. Sarah held Holly’s iPod up to her ear so she could make sure to hear it. It was pretty funny to see her listening to herself on Holly’s iPod because she really didn’t remember how the song went, but was totally swaying along. Until the one part “Everything you’ve locked away is beautiful and it’s ok” came on. She totally busted out singing the next line, “Let it out, let me in.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Towards the end of the song she said, “Me and Jedd should cut this,” to which I replied, “Yes please!” Then she explained, “I just feel bad because you know, Fleetwood Mac is a big influence of Little Big Town’s…Fleetwood Mac is my only influence. So I always feel bad because this sounds Little Big Townish. I just wouldn’t want to step on any toes, not that I could or would, you know what I mean? But this sounds like a Little Big Town song.” I had honestly never thought that about Remedy until Sarah said it, but I could definitely see what she meant. I think that just means that she and Little Big Town need to collaborate ASAP haha I didn’t tell her that though…maybe next time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While we were standing there, Jedd walked by and asked Sarah if she was ready to rehearse some more. We told Sarah we were going to get food and we’d meet her back at the bus later when LBT’s set was about to start to see if she was done. From there, we wandered out to the concourse and attempted to find food. Once we finally decided to try the sub place, we found out they didn’t have any bread left…uh ok haha We walked backstage still hungry and we went to sit outside the bus again to figure out what to do. As we were sitting there, Troy walks by with a plate of food that looked really good. We wondered if with our wristbands we would be able to get catering, too. While we were deciding if we should try to go find it, Troy sees us and says, “Little Big Town is around the bus! Go say hi to them!” The three of us looked at him in disbelief. We thought he was teasing us ha He said, “No really, they’re right over there! You should go say hi.” We laughed and said bye to him as he got on the bus to eat his food. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mandie, Holly and I got up from where we were sitting and decided to try to find catering since we were still really hungry. We take 2 steps and there coming around the bus next to us is Kimberly! Troy really wasn’t lying when he said Little Big Town was right around the corner haha She notices us and stopped to say hi. I’m pretty sure we got hugs, too. I told her that we came back because we had so much fun yesterday in Charlotte and she laughed and said she was glad. We said bye to her and continued on with our quest for catering. We walked another couple feet and saw Jimi and Karen walking in our direction. We called out hi to them as we all walked by each other, and they waved and said hi and that it was good to see us. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;First part of our quest for catering? Epic fail. After wandering around backstage we definitely couldn’t find it, and felt awkward walking around aimlessly because we didn’t want to look like we didn’t belong back there. During our search we saw other people with the same wristbands eating, which made us feel a little better about looking for it, but were still bummed we couldn’t find it; not to mention, still hungry. We walked back towards the bus in hopes to find someone we could possibly ask. Lucky again for us, we saw Emily walking toward the bus too with food in hand. We called her name and she turned around and stopped as we caught up to her. I begged, “Emily can you help us? We tried to get food on the concourse but they didn’t have any bread left and we’re starving. Can you tell us where catering is?” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Emily totally saved the day and gave us directions to the little building where catering was, and who to go to so we could pay to get the little ticket to go through the buffet line. We thanked her profusely and she said, “If you can’t find it or have any problems let me know.” Such a sweetheart. On our way again, this time we walked by Phillip and he stopped to give us all hugs. He told us it was great to see us again. Another total sweetheart. Love him. We found the building she was talking about, which turns out, was right where we had been looking before. I guess we just assumed catering would be an outside thing, but it wasn’t. Eventually we got our little ticket and found the other room where the food was. There were a bunch of people in there eating, but just as we were finishing going through the line a table opened up and we sat down. As we’re sitting there eating, I looked up and saw Heidi Newfield sitting at the table next to us haha We didn’t say hi to her, but I thought that was pretty neat anyway haha We also saw Chelsea, the girl who handed out stuff about the Blue Bird Café in the tent and she came over and sat with us to eat. It was cool to talk to her and share dessert haha&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8391090757052147728?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8391090757052147728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8391090757052147728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8391090757052147728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8391090757052147728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/06/bring-it-on-home-to-me.html' title='The weight of the world is on your shoulders'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2419045335468425465</id><published>2010-06-29T21:34:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T21:52:23.581-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When your long day is over and you can barely drag your feet</title><content type='html'>As Holly, Mandie and I drove to Raleigh, I made signs we came up with that we wanted to give Troy (as promised), Emily, Sarah and Jedd. They actually turned out fairly well for making them in a moving vehicle against the dashboard! Troy’s sign said “We Love Troy Olsen…Country Throwdown Tour 2010 ~Buxton Hughes Bus Girls”. Emily’s sign said “We Love Emily” and Sarah and Jedd’s sign said “We Need Friends…Facebook.com/BuxtonHughes” on one side and the &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;other side said “We Love You ~Your Purple Wall Girls”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once we made it to Raleigh and bought our tickets, we walked around and explained what everything was to Mandie. While we were finding where the tents/stages were that we needed for the day, we saw Walker and went over to say hi. He was like, “Who are you? How do I know you?” in a funny voice, and once we told him Charlotte from yesterday, he remembered us and said he was glad to see us again and glad we were there, which was sweet.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We were right up against the barricade again for Emily’s set at the Outlaw stage, which was awesome. She was amazing as always, and when she saw us there, she called out hi to us and waved. After her set we went over to see the first songwriter’s group at the Blue Bird Tent, which was Troy, Heather Morgan and Walker. We watched each of their first songs, then went back to the Capitol tent real quick to say hi to Emily. When she saw me, she gave me a big hug, and then did the same for Holly. We introduced Mandie to her and Emily gave Mandie a hug too. I showed Emily her sign, and she freaked out. She showed it to her boyfriend and best friend who were in the tent too and kept gushing about how this was her first sign, and that she loved it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqfgGlxL2I/AAAAAAAAARc/GjVObjzCqFY/s1600/P1050302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqfgGlxL2I/AAAAAAAAARc/GjVObjzCqFY/s320/P1050302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488374469778026338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After the 3 of us got pictures with Emily, we went back to the Blue Bird tent to catch the end of the songwriter’s group. We went up to Troy and introduced ourselves again and gave him his sign. He was pretty excited. He said, “I have to go back to the bus right now to hang this up!” He also told us that Sarah and Jedd hung their purple wall up on the bus for everyone to see. We got pictures with him as well, and when he left, we got a group picture with Walker. At one point after that while we were waiting for Buxton Hughes’ set next, Brad Tursi was walking around in the tent too and we said hi to him. He replied, “Hi! You’re the girls who made the purple wall right?” We told him we were, and he said he thought it was cool we made that for them. We thought it was kind of funny that he knew we’re the ones that made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eventually Jedd came to set up his guitar and stuff and when he looked over in our general direction, we called out hi to him and his eyes lit up and he waved. A little while later, Sarah rolled up (literally) on the back of Tyler Reeve’s scooter and she looked so cute with her backpack on haha As she was setting up, she saw us as well and waved. At the beginning of their set with Cory Brannan, Sarah and Jedd mentioned how they were a duo now, which is when we busted out our sign. We held it up and Sarah saw it right away and started reading it out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“We need friends..Oh my gosh! That is AWESOME! We do need friends!” Her and Jedd were cracking up, and I handed the sign to Sarah. Then Sarah held it up again for everyone to see and read their Facebook page URL out loud for everyone. I told her to flip it over because there was a back, and she did and held it up again for the tent to see and read, “We Love You. ~Your Purple Wall Girls” She said she loved us too and decided to tell the ENTIRE tent of people aboutthe purple wall and how Holly and I made it for them. She was like, “These two girls right here, Holly and Michelle, they’re so awesome. They made Jedd and I a purple wall banner for our online chats that we do!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqf_IV9vpI/AAAAAAAAARk/baKvWpp10qY/s1600/P1050305.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 231px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqf_IV9vpI/AAAAAAAAARk/baKvWpp10qY/s320/P1050305.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488375002824556178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqge1xKuUI/AAAAAAAAARs/VISzHMAShWE/s1600/28968_1305546764418_1402980181_30713389_3260936_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqge1xKuUI/AAAAAAAAARs/VISzHMAShWE/s320/28968_1305546764418_1402980181_30713389_3260936_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488375547594193218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When their set was over, they went over to one of the plastic tables to be able to take pictures with people and sign stuff. Mandie, Holly and I went and stood off to the side of the line to wait to be able to talk to Sarah and Jedd. While we were standing there, I noticed how much longer the line was than it had been in Charlotte, and I felt bad because not only were Sarah and Jedd trying to meet people, they were responsible for trying to sell their CDs and stuff themselves. Somehow I got the courage to ask, “Hey Sarah, do you want us to help you sell your merch or something?” She looked at me for a second and responded, “Oh my gosh, would you?” We all nodded and walked over to the table and helped them get the CDs and pictures and stuff out of the duffel bag they had with them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the next hour and a half or so we had the BEST time selling merch. It was seriously SO much fun. Mandie took pictures for anyone who wasn’t with someone already in line. Holly went on the hunt for change at the concession stands because we were severely lacking anything less than a $20 bill haha I handed people their CD or picture and took money from them and handed it off to Mandie or Holly and gave them back their change (once we finally got some).&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; At one point Mandie tried to use her own money to make change just to help out and Sarah caught her. Sarah was like “Oh no, you put your money away right now!” hahaha It was so funny. Mandie snuck some back in there when she wasn’t looking until Holly brought back some change and switched Mandie’s money out. Another funny moment was when I asked Jedd if I could wear his sunglasses because it was so bright out and I put them on. He said, "Yeah, keep wearing them! You look really good in them!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqhVw4Q7eI/AAAAAAAAAR0/pDEMftfTvrg/s1600/28968_1305552764568_1402980181_30713424_2768409_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqhVw4Q7eI/AAAAAAAAAR0/pDEMftfTvrg/s320/28968_1305552764568_1402980181_30713424_2768409_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488376491174587874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The last singer-songwriter group was performing while they were signing and we were selling merch, so it was cool to get to hear the last group as well. When Dave sang “Do You Believe Me Now”, the three of us were totally singing it and jamming. At one point, Sarah and Jedd turned around while we were singing along to it and were like ‘Heck yeah!’ Sarah bobbed her head along to the music and Jedd started singing along with me…it was so awesome. We also got to finally hear a little bit of Eli Young Band when they played their set too haha&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was really cool to get to see Sarah and Jedd interact with everyone waiting in line to meet them. They were genuinely so excited to meet everyone, and it was really special to get to watch all that. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When Sarah and Jedd were done signing and meeting with everyone, they kept thanking us over and over again and we were like, ‘No seriously, thank YOU! We had a blast!’ They told us that we should come back with them and we told them that Troy told us about the purple wall hanging on the bus. Sarah said, “Yeah, Troy showed us his sign and he said do you want the good news or the bad news? Good news is I got my own sign! The bad news is, I think I stole your biggest fans” hahah We laughed about that and then helped them pack up their duffel bag and went to walk backstage.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2419045335468425465?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2419045335468425465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2419045335468425465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2419045335468425465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2419045335468425465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-know-what-you-need.html' title='When your long day is over and you can barely drag your feet'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TCqfgGlxL2I/AAAAAAAAARc/GjVObjzCqFY/s72-c/P1050302.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7120318666881686157</id><published>2010-06-05T10:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T15:06:28.681-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm dreaming like a child..but some things just don't go out of style</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've been trying for over a we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ek to figure out exactly what to say in this blog entry. To attempt to find adequate words to describe what happened last Thursday and Friday. I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not sure if I've found the ones I want, but I know that I'll regret not writing something about my ex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;perience. I apologize in advance if this post jumps around alot...honest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ly, when I think back to all that happened, it still overwhelms me a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday May 27th, I went to the Country Throwdown Tour in Charlotte with my friend Holly. We really had no idea what to e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;xpect from this tour. All I was hoping for was to see Emily, Sarah and Jedd play, be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;caus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e LB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T was on the main stage so I knew I'd see them; and to maybe get an LBT meet &amp;amp; greet. Oh boy, little did I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holly and I got there around 12:30 and found the table to pick up our wristbands for our LBT meet &amp;amp; greets. Check one thing off the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;list :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This was Holly's first time seeing LBT live, let alone meeting them, so I was so excited to be able to be there for that. We also were listed for a wristband for a meet &amp;amp; greet for Sarah. We weren't sure what a Sarah meet &amp;amp; greet really meant,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; but we hoped to be able to talk to them after their set to mak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e sure we knew what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Once we got in the venue and walked around, we eve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ntually found where everything was. We won some free stuff at so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me of the tents, and then staked out our spots right against the barricade in front of the Outlaw stage where Emily West was playing. Emily came out and rocked it. She saw us and waved and if she saw us taking pictures, she'd pose...it was ado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After her set, she was signing at the Capitol tent so Holly and I went o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ver there to wait for her to come. We were standing in line, when all the sudden I saw a guy walking around by the Blue Bird Tent which was just acros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;s from the Capitol one. The guy was Jedd Hughes, and Holly and I quickly got out of line and went over to say hi to him. I called out his name and he turned around and when h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e saw us, he got a big smile on his face. He gave both of us big&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; hugs and asked how we were. We talked for a few minutes, and we told him that we couldn't wait to give him and Sarah thei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;r surprise. He told us that they were excited too and had been trying to figure out what it might be. We sa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;id we'd see him later and we went bac&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;k to get in line for Emily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Holly and I got up to the table, Emily gave me a big hug and I introduced her to Holly. Then I gave Emily a bracelet I'd made her a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nd when I showed it to her her eyes lit up. She told me, "I haven't been feeling well with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my allergies today and I really needed a pick me up. Thank you so much Michelle, you're so sweet." So I tied the bracelet on her wrist, and we took a picture. Emily had burned her own CDs to sell since her record still isn't out, and when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I went to buy one, she gave me one for free. Then Holly got her picture and we a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sked her if she needed any help. She said she had to go do press at the moment but she'd come find us afterwards and we could help her sell stuff. T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hat actually didn't end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; up happening because Emily took a much needed nap instead, but she tweeted Holly apologizin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;g to us for not finding us, it was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After we got food and picked at it, we staked out our spot in the Blue Bird tent right in front of the stage. While Holly and I were sitting on the ground eating t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he equivalent of 1 chicken tender, all the sudden we saw someone standing next to us; we look up and it's Sarah! We called out her na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me and she turned around and was SO excited to see us. It was kind of funny in an awkward way because Holly and I had stuff in our laps and couldn't get up righ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;t away haha Bu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;t once we stood up she gave us each a huge hug. She and Jedd finished setting up their stuff on the stage, and then their set began. It was them with Walker Hayes, who I hadn't heard of before, but quickly grew to love. He's awesome! And&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At the beginning of the set, Sarah pu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lled out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;her shaker and tambourine and I jokingly said, "Sarah, do you have another tambourine?" She heard me and replied, "Yeah I do!" And pulled out another one and han&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ded it to me. Then she asked if anyone wanted her shaker and she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;went to hand it out to someone and I thought she was going to give it to Holly, but then she said, "Give it to that man" and I was like who? Turns out, she wanted Holly to hand it to my dad! haha When I realized she wanted my dad to use it, I told her that was my dad. Sarah's eyes got big and she said, "That's your dad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;! You're Mi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;chelle's d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ad?! We love Michelle!" So Holly gave Sarah's shaker to my dad, an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;d while Walker played his first song, we used Sarah's stuff as we stood in front of the stage. I had thought that Sarah gave me the tambourine for that purpose-to play it while I stood in the audience. I should have known better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Walker finished his first song, i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;t was Sarah and Jedd's turn to play. They started with Outside My Window, and Sarah and Jedd told me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, and my dad to get up there to do the song with them. This other random girl also came up on stage as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;It was unbelievable to stand up on the little stage in between Sarah and Jedd as they played Outside My Window. It was so much fun to play the tambourine with Sarah Buxton and to look over at her during the song and just laugh and smile and sing along.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBmoqGN5G3I/AAAAAAAAAQw/JWkG2nXn3VA/s1600/P1050179.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBmoqGN5G3I/AAAAAAAAAQw/JWkG2nXn3VA/s320/P1050179.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483599462477142898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBmoqGN5G3I/AAAAAAAAAQw/JWkG2nXn3VA/s1600/P1050179.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was honestly something I will never forget. After Outside My Window, I went back and stood next to Holly and jammed to the rest of Walker and Sarah and Jedd's set. When they were done playing, Holly and I got in line to get a picture with Walker, and we waited for Sarah and Jedd to finish meeting people so we could see when we could give them their surprise. Holly and I had gotte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;n wristbands marked for Sarah and Jedd for some sort of meet &amp;amp; greet, but none of us had any idea really what that meant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; Joe, one of the tour managers, was sweet enough to explain to them and us what our wristbands meant. He told them that they could take us backstage with them/to their bus as long as they escorted us. Sarah and Jedd were pretty excited about that and really wanted to know what their surprise was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;One last couple came up to them as we were about to leave and while they talked to Sarah, Holly and I stood with Jedd and talked with him. I forget now how we got on the subject, but we started talking about Sesame Street. Jedd told us about how Sesame Street was his introduction to Blue Grass music, which I thought was really interesting. I told him he and Sarah should sing on Sesame Street, and he said it's a huge honor if you're asked to do that. That somehow led&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; into Jedd telling us that he has an alter ego haha I asked Jedd if his alter ego had a name, and he replied, "Bert, you know, like Bert and Ernie" and t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;hen he started singing Rubber Ducky. It was awesome haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and Jedd then led us backstage and on to their tour bus. It was really cool to actually see/sit inside one. They introduced us to Dave Pahanish and Troy Olsen who are also part of the Blue Bird singer-songwriter tent. Holly and I sat down and Sarah got us Dr. Pepper lol There were 2 other wo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;men on the bus that Dave had been talking to, so while Sarah and Jedd put their stuff away, we talked to Dave, Troy and the 2 women. Dave is incredibly entertaining and wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;s really nice to us, and Troy is a sweetheart. Dave brought up an interesting topic of conversation and I have never laughed so hard in my life. It was so funny, that Sarah called her fiancee, Tom, and had Dave talk to him about it. After that conversation wound down, Sarah and Jedd looked at us and Sarah asked, "So where is it?! What's the surprise?!" It was adorable. Then Dave asked if there would be a big unveiling or something and we laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the "Purple Wall" out of my bag and Holly and I un&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;folded it. As soon as we unfolded the fabric, Jedd and Sarah's mouths dropped open. They were like "Is this...what is this?! Is this a purple banner for us?!" We told them, "It's your own purple wall" and they FLIPPED out. Sarah started jump&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;ing up and down a little and she and Jedd kept looking at it. Holly and I told them that the cloud was to represent Outside My Window and Big Blue Sky, the radio was for Radio Love, the ice cream cone was f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;or That Kind of Day plus Sarah loves ice cream, and the beer bottle was for the "beer bottle solo" inside joke from their UStream chats. (Go watch all the archive ones under teammuffin and buxtonhughes if you've never seen them...SO MUCH FUN). Dave and Troy thought the Purple Wall was pretty awesome. Troy joked, "Where's my sign? Next time y'all need to make me one too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Dave suggested then that Sarah and Jedd should play for us on the bus. He said, "It's one thing to see someone up on a stage and play for a crowd. It's another to have them sing just for you." Sarah and Jedd we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;re all for it, and Jedd borrowed Dave's guitar. They sang Outside My Window and Sarah danced around the bus with the Purple Wall...it was amazing. When they were done, Sarah was still so excited and yelled "TWIT PIC! WE NEED TO TWIT PIC THIS!" Holly and I handed our cameras to Troy and he gladly snapped away pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBU6cIuP4xI/AAAAAAAAAP4/N0YpduqpGQ4/s1600/P1050199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBU6cIuP4xI/AAAAAAAAAP4/N0YpduqpGQ4/s320/P1050199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482352376445657874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;While Troy was taking the pictures, he asked Jedd, "Where's your enthusiasm?!" And Jedd replied, "What? This is my sexy Australian face!" Finally, when we got to Sarah's Twit Pic, this is the face he made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBU9ce7wfhI/AAAAAAAAAQA/DJB_yt8Uins/s1600/Bus+Hang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBU9ce7wfhI/AAAAAAAAAQA/DJB_yt8Uins/s320/Bus+Hang.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482355680942784018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After we were done taking pictures, Sarah and Jedd had to go do their press, so we walked with them to the press trailer, which was on the way to the gate where Holly and I had to go out. By that time, it was almost time to go to the Little White Church tent for the LBT m&amp;amp;g, so that's where we went. There, we met back up with my parents, who also had a m&amp;amp;g because my mom won the Little White Church contest that I entered her in haha While we were waiting, I somehow spotted Emily walking around and we went up to her and said hi. She asked us if we'd gotten her tweet, and we told her we had, and she apologized again for not meeting back up with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We told her it was cool and we totally understood. Then she asked if we knew where they had any Blue Moon hahaha Poor girl was on a hunt for it, but couldn't find it so she had to settle for some other brand and shell out $12. Her face was pretty funny when the guy told her that's how much it was. She asked us if we wanted to come back with her and hang out some more, but we couldn't because our LBT m&amp;amp;g was about to start :( So we gave her more hugs and said bye, then went to get in line for the m&amp;amp;g.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents were towards the front of the line, while Holly and I stayed towards the back. My parents were secretly excited to meet LBT again, which made me happy. Eventually it was my turn because Holly made me go first. I walked up to them and said hi to Jimi and gave him a hug. Then it was Karen and she smiled at me and said, "There's our faithful Twitter follower!" I thought that was cute. I hugged Kimberly and Phillip was well, and as I got in between Karen and Kimberly for the picture, I said, "I've missed you guys, it's been forever" and the girls agreed. Then I told them that I've graduated college since I last saw them and they were all like 'Oh wow!' and Karen told me congrats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was Holly's turn and somewhere in there Kimberly, Phillip and I started talking about the Little White Church video and how awesome it is. They were really excited that we love the song so much. The guy who takes the pictures overheard me telling Phillip that Holly was my best friend and asked if we wanted a picture together with them, so after Holly got her's, we got one together and I stood next to Kimberly. Then Holly and I went to leave the tent and go find our seats, which happened to be when they were escorting LBT out of the tent to backstage. Somehow I got caught up in the crowd of people and ended up in the middle of Karen and Phillip haha I said bye again and told them to look for us in the 2nd row where we'd be rocking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Big Town was incredible as always. True to their word, they all saw us at some point during the show and smiled/waved/sang to us. It was so great. The new songs "Why Oh Why", "The Reason Why" &amp;amp; "Runaway Train" are AMAZING. I'm SO excited for the new CD on August 24th. After LBT's set, Sarah, Jedd and Walker came out on the main stage to sing 2 songs in between sets. The lame security guard wouldn't let us stand in front of where they were playing because we couldn't see from our seats, even though no one was sitting there the entire show. Eventually Holly and I went back up on the concourse and were sitting at a picnic table, wishing we could've said goodbye to Sarah and Jedd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the sudden I turned to Holly and said, "I have a proposition...it could be epic, but you'll probably say no." She agreed to hear it, as long as she could veto it if she didn't want to do it. I said, "What if we got tickets to Raleigh tomorrow and went there instead of Speed Street with Mandie? I'll call Mandie and see if she'd want to come so we could all still hang out, and we'll go pick her up in the morning and go. That way we'd at least get to see Sarah and Jedd after their set to say thank you and goodbye." She thought about it, and between the weather looking awful for Speed Street, our amazing time that day, and not getting to really say thank you to Sarah and Jedd, she agreed. I called Mandie, and she convinced her parents and our plan was in motion...which, little did I know at the time, would somehow top this day, and will lead to my next blog entry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt; &lt;/div&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/672814086577808406-7120318666881686157?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7120318666881686157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7120318666881686157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7120318666881686157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7120318666881686157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-dreaming-like-childbut-some-things.html' title='I&apos;m dreaming like a child..but some things just don&apos;t go out of style'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/TBmoqGN5G3I/AAAAAAAAAQw/JWkG2nXn3VA/s72-c/P1050179.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2183132227210204012</id><published>2010-05-14T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T23:06:52.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13 - A Song That Is A Guilty Pleasure</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Won't Say I'm In Love - Hercules&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for 'old school' Disney movies and the songs from them. While Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie, this song from Hercules is one of my favorite Disney songs. I love the "Muses" doing background vocals and the attitude/lyrics of the song are fun :)&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I_bEWXs_FX4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&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/I_bEWXs_FX4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If there's a prize for rotten judgement&lt;br /&gt;I guess I've already won that&lt;br /&gt;No man is worth the aggravation&lt;br /&gt;That's ancient history&lt;br /&gt;Been there, done that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'd you think you're kidding&lt;br /&gt;He's the Earth and Heaven to ya&lt;br /&gt;Try to keep it hidden&lt;br /&gt;Honey we can see right through you&lt;br /&gt;Girl you can't conceal it&lt;br /&gt;We know how you feel&lt;br /&gt;And who you're thinking of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No chance, no way&lt;br /&gt;I won't say it oh no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You swoon, you sigh&lt;br /&gt;Why deny it, uh oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too cliche&lt;br /&gt;I won't say I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought my heart had learned it's lesson&lt;br /&gt;It feels so good when you start out&lt;br /&gt;My head is screaming get a grip girl&lt;br /&gt;Unless you're dying to cry your heart out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You keep on denying&lt;br /&gt;Who you are and how you feel&lt;br /&gt;But baby we're not lying&lt;br /&gt;Hun, we saw you hit the ceiling&lt;br /&gt;Face it like a grown up&lt;br /&gt;When you gonna own up&lt;br /&gt;That you got it bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong, no chance, no way&lt;br /&gt;I won't say it oh no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Give up, give in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Check the grin, you're in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scene won't play&lt;br /&gt;I won't say I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're doin flips&lt;br /&gt;Read my lips&lt;br /&gt;You're in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're way off base&lt;br /&gt;I won't say it&lt;br /&gt;Get off my case I won't say it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl don't be proud&lt;br /&gt;It's ok you're in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, at least out loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I won't say I'm in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2183132227210204012?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2183132227210204012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2183132227210204012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2183132227210204012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2183132227210204012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-13-song-that-is-guilty-pleasure.html' title='Day 13 - A Song That Is A Guilty Pleasure'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8620021364427603378</id><published>2010-05-08T14:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T14:38:35.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12 - A Song From A Band You Hate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;Again, this is going to be another tie because I equally cannot stand these 2 songs and bands, since Allison covered the 3rd band I'm not terribly fond of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;Rockin' The Beer Gut - Trailer Choir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;Chicken Fried - Zach Brown Band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;And that's all I'm going to say about that haha On to more fun categories!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8620021364427603378?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8620021364427603378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8620021364427603378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8620021364427603378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8620021364427603378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-12-song-from-band-you-hate.html' title='Day 12 - A Song From A Band You Hate'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5593211235245030554</id><published>2010-05-03T22:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T01:33:48.572-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11 - A Song From Your Favorite Band</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Again, no way I can pick just one. So here are 3 from my 2 favorite bands.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stay - Little Big Town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;Kimberly and Karen's voices on this song are heartbreakingly haunting. So are the lyrics.  LBT's harmonies in this are emotional and moving. Love this song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll lay my tears on the windowsill. I'll only cry 'til I get over you, but how long will it take me? Won't you save me and stay&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iHfiEKP87Mo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iHfiEKP87Mo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine Line - Little Big Town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm pretty sure that LBT wrote this song about my life. Karen tears this song up every time! Love the lyrics, love the energy, love the guitar parts.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do you feel the distance? Like I feel resistance. If I pulled any farther away would you even come after me? But the one I'm fearing is that I'm disappearing. How can I keep believing if you won't prove me wrong?&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0CLE8kC71fE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0CLE8kC71fE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Everyday America - Sugarland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This song is so much fun, especially live. It always makes me smile.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, woah, everybody's dreaming big. Oh, woah, but everybody's just getting by. That's how it goes in everyday America. A little town in a great big life.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fTVmKVi_li8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fTVmKVi_li8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5593211235245030554?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5593211235245030554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5593211235245030554' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5593211235245030554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5593211235245030554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-11-song-from-your-favorite-band.html' title='Day 11 - A Song From Your Favorite Band'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1349965287635746539</id><published>2010-05-03T00:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T01:09:13.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10 - A Song That Makes You Fall Asleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You Might Break My Heart - Jill and Kate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The melody of this song is so soothing and their harmonies are awesome. I listen to this song a lot at night, especially after a bad day. It's another one of the songs from the playlist that I just put on at night. Trying to let the music soothe my tears so I can go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mCJEnSKm62s&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&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/mCJEnSKm62s&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" 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;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Wish you'd show up at my door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still face down on this hotel floor&lt;br /&gt;This isn't me&lt;br /&gt;And I wish I could tell you how&lt;br /&gt;The taste of Tuesday in my mouth&lt;br /&gt;Got me thinking 'bout you and me&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what it could be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it sinks back in&lt;br /&gt;That you're just a friend&lt;br /&gt;And I try, and I try&lt;br /&gt;To pull myself together for the last time&lt;br /&gt;And you might break my&lt;br /&gt;You might break my heart&lt;br /&gt;Tonight&lt;br /&gt;And you might break my&lt;br /&gt;You might break my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't drive these ocean covered miles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;If you were closer you might recognize&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;That I'm missing you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And don't you ever feel alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And if you ever hear this song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I hope you know it's for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;It's all for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When the day gets done with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The night leaves me so lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;If only I could tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh if only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you might break my&lt;br /&gt;You might break my heart&lt;br /&gt;Tonight&lt;br /&gt;And you might break my&lt;br /&gt;You might break my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you might break my&lt;br /&gt;You might break my heart&lt;br /&gt;Tonight&lt;br /&gt;And you might leave me&lt;br /&gt;You might leave me crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/672814086577808406-1349965287635746539?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1349965287635746539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1349965287635746539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1349965287635746539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1349965287635746539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-10-song-that-makes-you-fall-asleep.html' title='Day 10 - A Song That Makes You Fall Asleep'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4158207475133485000</id><published>2010-04-27T23:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T00:00:27.663-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 - A Song That You Can Dance To</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boondocks - Little Big Town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Similar to Holly's post, there is NOTHING like seeing Little Big Town live, especially seeing them sing Boondocks live. The energy and "dancing" during this song is more jumping around and jamming with the people around you, but honestly? It's one of my favorite things to do. One month from today Holly and I will be doing this exact thing and I absolutely can not wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YcU16up9olg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&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/YcU16up9olg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4158207475133485000?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4158207475133485000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4158207475133485000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4158207475133485000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4158207475133485000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-9-song-that-you-can-dance-to.html' title='Day 9 - A Song That You Can Dance To'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8630676916214832195</id><published>2010-04-27T23:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T23:26:56.502-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - A Song That You Know All The Words To</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cowboy Take Me Away - Dixie Chicks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;This is a song that I can sing off the top of my head with or without the song playing in the background. I love everything about this song...The lyrics, the melody, Martie's fiddle solo after the second chorus. I didn't grow up in the south or in a rural area. I grew up in the central New Jersey suburbs. But when I listen to this song, I can just feel the emotion. I wish for the sentiment the song has; I wish for something like that to happen in my own life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yLj7xtHZ-AU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yLj7xtHZ-AU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;I said I wanna touch the Earth&lt;br /&gt;I wanna break it in my hands&lt;br /&gt;I wanna grow something wild and unruly&lt;br /&gt;I wanna sleep on the hard ground&lt;br /&gt;In the comfort of your arms&lt;br /&gt;On a pillow of blue bonnets&lt;br /&gt;And a blanket made of stars&lt;br /&gt;Oh it sounds good to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy take me away&lt;br /&gt;Fly this girl as high as you can&lt;br /&gt;Into the wild blue&lt;br /&gt;Set me free oh, I pray&lt;br /&gt;Closer to heaven above&lt;br /&gt;And closer to you&lt;br /&gt;Closer to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna walk and not run&lt;br /&gt;I wanna skip and not fall&lt;br /&gt;I wanna look at the horizon&lt;br /&gt;And not see a building standing tall&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanna be the only one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For miles and miles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Except for maybe you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And your simple smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh it sounds good to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes it sounds so good to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Chorus&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I said I wanna touch the Earth&lt;br /&gt;I wanna break it in my hands&lt;br /&gt;I wanna grow something wild and unruly&lt;br /&gt;Oh it sounds so good to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8630676916214832195?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8630676916214832195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8630676916214832195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8630676916214832195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8630676916214832195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-8-song-that-you-know-all-words-to.html' title='Day 8 - A Song That You Know All The Words To'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2258528715572854549</id><published>2010-04-26T23:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T23:18:06.344-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 - A Song That Reminds You Of A Certain Event</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Never Saw Blue Like That - Shawn Colvin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I remember buying the Runaway Bride Soundtrack on cassette when it came out, and bringing it with me to my grandma's cottage when we went to visit her that summer. Summers at Cuba Lake were what I waited all year for. It was the one chance I had to be around my cousins that I admired so dearly. The one chance I had to be memorable to them in any way. It was my one chance to attempt to teach them something about me and my meager elementary/early middle school school likes and dislikes. The summer I brought that cassette with me, I listened to this song over and over on my Walkman because the song just reminded me the joy I felt when I spent time with my cousins, especially Shannon. She was my hero growing up. She amazed me. All I wanted was for her to love me and be proud of me. I wish with all my heart that either of those things were still happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q2CkOEThLLw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&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/Q2CkOEThLLw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" 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;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Today we took a walk up the street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;We picked a flower &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And climbed the hill above the lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And secret thoughts were said aloud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;We watched the faces in the clouds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Until the clouds had blown away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And were we ever somewhere else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;You know, it's hard to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Chorus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And I never saw blue like that before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Across the sky, around the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;You're given me all you have and more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And no one else has ever shown me how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;To see the world the way I see it now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh I, I never saw blue like that before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe a month ago&lt;br /&gt;I was alone&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know you&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't seen you, or heard your name&lt;br /&gt;And even now I'm so amazed&lt;br /&gt;It's like a dream&lt;br /&gt;It's like a rainbow&lt;br /&gt;It's like the rain&lt;br /&gt;And some things are the way they are&lt;br /&gt;And words just can't explain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it feels like now&lt;br /&gt;And it feels always&lt;br /&gt;And it feels like coming home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2258528715572854549?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2258528715572854549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2258528715572854549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2258528715572854549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2258528715572854549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-7-song-that-reminds-you-of-certain.html' title='Day 7 - A Song That Reminds You Of A Certain Event'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2913465003042858995</id><published>2010-04-26T22:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T23:18:37.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - A Song That Reminds You Of Somewhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Entertaining Angels - Newsboys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;This song reminds me of going to Camp Tapawingo, when I was 14 I think it was. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Camp Tapawingo is a Christian all girls camp in the Adirondack Mountains in New York state. I had never been to camp before, and had finally convinced my parents to let me go with the few girls I was friends with at church who had gone for several years. I was nervous at first, but loved it. I discovered a lot of things about myself those 2 summers at camp. And this was one of the songs on the mix CD that they would play in the Crafts cabin. I remember listening to a lot of Newsboys and Point of Grace then. Anyway, I heard this song randomly on the radio today in the car after getting some pretty devastating news, and it instantly reminded me camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ok6JGofobPk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ok6JGofobPk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;One to another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Do you remember me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I feel so small&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Well are you listening tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;So temporary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The things that I have seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I ran so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Will you take me back again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the light of my TV screen&lt;br /&gt;24/7 you wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the time I fall to my knees&lt;br /&gt;Host of Heaven sing over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One to another&lt;br /&gt;The feelings inbetween&lt;br /&gt;I won't let go of all you taught me&lt;br /&gt;Close as a brother&lt;br /&gt;The way we used to be&lt;br /&gt;I'll hold my breath&lt;br /&gt;And I'll wait for your to breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the light of my TV screen&lt;br /&gt;24/7 you wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;While the night becomes history&lt;br /&gt;Host of Heaven sing over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the light of my TV screen&lt;br /&gt;24/7 you wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the time I fall to my knees&lt;br /&gt;Host of Heaven sing over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the light of my TV screen&lt;br /&gt;24/7 you wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;While the night becomes history&lt;br /&gt;Host of Heaven sing over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the light of my TV screen&lt;br /&gt;24/7 you wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Entertaining angels&lt;br /&gt;By the time I fall to my knees&lt;br /&gt;Host of Heaven sing over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2913465003042858995?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2913465003042858995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2913465003042858995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2913465003042858995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2913465003042858995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-6-song-that-reminds-you-of.html' title='Day 6 - A Song That Reminds You Of Somewhere'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-899016352792389590</id><published>2010-04-25T22:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T00:53:39.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 - A Song That Reminds You Of Someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;American Honey - Lady Antebellum&lt;br /&gt;This song reminds me of my best friend Holly and how we listened to it on repeat in her car in Wilmington in January. I have a feeling we'll be listening to it in my car in a couple weeks too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There's a wild, wild whisper blowing in the wind. Calling out my name like a long lost friend. Oh I miss those days as the years go by. Oh nothing sweeter than summertime and American honey"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GSOaAaZZyqk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GSOaAaZZyqk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Like Heaven - Sarah Buxton&lt;br /&gt;This song will forever remind me of Allison, Becky and Hannah and our singing and dancing along to Sarah performing this at CMA Fest 09 after we requested it using Hannah's white board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Some people tell me I'm foolish and crazy. Something so perfect, it just can't exist. They say I've been watching too many movies. These great expectations really put me at risk. Yeah, but I know better. Always have, always will. Call me a dreamer, I just feel what I feel&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-899016352792389590?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/899016352792389590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=899016352792389590' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/899016352792389590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/899016352792389590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-5-song-that-reminds-you-of-someone.html' title='Day 5 - A Song That Reminds You Of Someone'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-3883941666315466624</id><published>2010-04-20T23:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T23:33:21.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 - A Song That Makes You Sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Again, can't pick just one song. I'm interpreting this category to mean songs that I listen to when I'm sad. I have a specific playlist that I'll put on repeat when I'm sad and/or lonely, and while I won't put that whole playlist down for this one, here are 3 from that list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mississippi's Crying - Emily West&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mississippi's crying baby, Mississippi's said I think we just figured out that you ain't coming back. The sky can see you leaving and it can't hold back the tears. Oh it's pouring down and my heart thinks it's dying. Mississippi's crying"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JcMb454yqi0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JcMb454yqi0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep You - Sugarland&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You get used to the pain. And numb to the sting, til you can't feel anything. You tried to explain, but I couldn't hear it. As if your words were my tears flowing freely warm and quiet. From the edges of my eyes in my ears. Then all that disappears."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PKF_BwrE_HE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PKF_BwrE_HE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost/Fix You - Little Big Town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lost: "Don't know who I am. Staring at a million broken pieces here. Don't know where I stand. While I'm still the world goes round so free, so cavalier."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fix You: "Tears stream down your face. When you lose something you cannot replace. Tears stream down your face and I. Tears stream down your face. I promise you I will learn from my mistakes. Tears stream down your face and I...Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7B_kgH43DNw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7B_kgH43DNw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-3883941666315466624?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/3883941666315466624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=3883941666315466624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/3883941666315466624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/3883941666315466624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-4-song-that-makes-you-sad.html' title='Day 4 - A Song That Makes You Sad'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6908013808073216652</id><published>2010-04-18T13:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T14:08:27.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 - A Song That Makes You Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It is impossible for me to pick just 1 song that makes me happy. So below are the ones I finally narrowed it down to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It Happens - Sugarland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Let go laughing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IUElqcOupAc&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IUElqcOupAc&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That Kind of Day - Sarah Buxton&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Got 26 messages on my voicemail and I've only called my best friend back. And I told her when it comes to my life these days, I'm somewhere between a cry and a laugh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YnCj12x9Bjo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YnCj12x9Bjo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm With the Band - Little Big Town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Sweet gypsy highway. Won't you let me chase my dream? Cause I got a song to take me there. And it's something to see, something to see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nu-Lyoo5ZK0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nu-Lyoo5ZK0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong Baby Wrong - Martina McBride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"And we can fly, baby, fly, baby, fly, let's share a bottle of wine. We can laugh about the good times. And you'll know why, baby, why, baby, why it's gonna be all right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KZf_lKxDGQI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KZf_lKxDGQI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Somebody Like You - Keith Urban&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna feel the sun shine, shining down on me and you. When you put your arms around me, don't you know there's nothing in this world I can't do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dSqnO_ulluQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dSqnO_ulluQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Country Man - Luke Bryan&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, I'm a country man.  I can wrestle hogs and gators with my 2 bare hands. Girl, you better move quick I'm in high demand. Hey baby I'm a country man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/C8JLL0RxW5c&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/C8JLL0RxW5c&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Directions - Billy Currington&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A left will take you to the interstate. But a right, will bring you right back here to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/awmaDhKwU-8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/awmaDhKwU-8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6908013808073216652?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6908013808073216652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6908013808073216652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6908013808073216652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6908013808073216652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-3-song-that-makes-you-happy.html' title='Day 3 - A Song That Makes You Happy'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7824673764375620819</id><published>2010-04-17T22:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T22:55:33.485-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 - Least Favorite Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you know me at all, you know there are 4-5 artists I really don't enjoy. I could probably list most of their music here since the second category is least favorite song, but I won't. However, I will pick one that actually has 2 of those artists in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shiftwork - Kenny Chesney ft. George Strait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Can't. stand.this.song. And that's all I'm going to say about that, because I don't want to waste space on my blog with lyrics or a video of a song I don't like haha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7824673764375620819?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7824673764375620819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7824673764375620819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7824673764375620819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7824673764375620819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-2-least-favorite-song.html' title='Day 2 - Least Favorite Song'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7259369292657456044</id><published>2010-04-16T18:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T18:30:15.767-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 - Your Favorite Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Can't Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking 1 favorite song is incredibly difficult. I can pick a favorite song from each artist I love. But I guess I have to go with the song I remember being my first favorite song when I was younger. I grew up listening to (what I now know is) Adult Contemporary radio. Back then, they played "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt pretty often. The lyrics get me every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eQgDnZQogDM&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eQgDnZQogDM&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn down the lights&lt;br /&gt;Turn down the bed&lt;br /&gt;Turn down these voices&lt;br /&gt;Inside my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lay down with me&lt;br /&gt;Tell me no lies&lt;br /&gt;Just hold me close&lt;br /&gt;Don't patronize, don't patronize me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cause I can't make you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You can't make your heart feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Something it won't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Here in the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In these final hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I will lay down my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll feel the power&lt;br /&gt;But you won't, no you won't&lt;br /&gt;Cause I can't make you love me&lt;br /&gt;If you don't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then I won't see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The love you don't feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When you're holding me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Morning will come&lt;br /&gt;And I'll do what's right&lt;br /&gt;But give me 'til then&lt;br /&gt;To give up this fight&lt;br /&gt;And I will give up this fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus to end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7259369292657456044?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7259369292657456044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7259369292657456044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7259369292657456044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7259369292657456044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-1-your-favorite-song.html' title='Day 1 - Your Favorite Song'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8475104648619588414</id><published>2010-04-16T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T18:11:19.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Day Challenge -- Music</title><content type='html'>Holly found this on another blog and thought it'd be fun for us to do together :) I'm a day behind, so I'm going to play catch up and do the first 2 today. I love that this is like a month long survey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 01 - Your favorite song&lt;br /&gt;Day 02 - Your least favorite song&lt;br /&gt;Day  03 - A song that makes you happy&lt;br /&gt;Day 04 - A song that makes you sad&lt;br /&gt;Day  05 - A song that reminds you of someone&lt;br /&gt;Day 06 - A song that reminds  of you of somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Day 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain  event&lt;br /&gt;Day 08 - A song that you know all the words to&lt;br /&gt;Day 09 - A  song that you can dance to&lt;br /&gt;Day 10 - A song that makes you fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Day  11 - A song from your favorite band&lt;br /&gt;Day 12 - A song from a band you  hate&lt;br /&gt;Day 13 - A song that is a guilty pleasure&lt;br /&gt;Day 14 - A song  that no one would expect you to love&lt;br /&gt;Day 15 - A song that describes  you&lt;br /&gt;Day 16 - A song that you used to love but now hate&lt;br /&gt;Day 17 - A  song that you hear often on the radio&lt;br /&gt;Day 18 - A song that you wish  you heard on the radio&lt;br /&gt;Day 19 - A song from your favorite album&lt;br /&gt;Day  20 - A song that you listen to when you’re angry&lt;br /&gt;Day 21 - A song  that you listen to when you’re happy&lt;br /&gt;Day 22 - A song that you listen  to when you’re sad&lt;br /&gt;Day 23 - A song that you want to play at your  wedding&lt;br /&gt;Day 24 - A song that you want to play at your funeral&lt;br /&gt;Day  25 - A song that makes you laugh&lt;br /&gt;Day 26 - A song that you can play on  an instrument&lt;br /&gt;Day 27 - A song that you wish you could play&lt;br /&gt;Day 28  - A song that makes you feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;Day 29 - A song from your  childhood&lt;br /&gt;Day 30 - Your favorite song at this time last year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8475104648619588414?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8475104648619588414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8475104648619588414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8475104648619588414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8475104648619588414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/30-day-challenge-music.html' title='30 Day Challenge -- Music'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2133346955346570882</id><published>2010-04-12T20:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T21:29:01.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let go of my pain, to hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So today was an interesting day. I went to the Education Career Fair where several school districts from PA, a few from MD, 1 from NC &amp;amp; SC, and a couple other random ones came to meet with education majors and conduct interviews, etc. First time I've ever done something like that obviously and it hit me once again how I'm tip toeing closer and closer to "real life". The closer I inch, the more I worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to be blunt because this feeling has been eating away at me all day. Coming away from the Career Fair, I felt like a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People there knew exactly what they wanted, which schools to visit, what to say; were determined to get interviews, even though you don't obviously get hired on the spot. Even the people who went into the fair saying that there wasn't any districts they were particularly interested in seemed to suddenly know exactly what to do and who to visit with and got interviews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? Yes, I had researched 3 districts beforehand, 1 of which I didn't have a chance to go up to because the line was always so long. Spoke with the other 2 districts and handed them my resume. But no, I didn't have an interview. Partly because those 2 districts weren't doing interviews and partly because I didn't go up to one of those MD or PA districts doing interviews because I did not know about their district and felt even more foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like the only one who didn't go to an interview and take advantage of that "experience". Everyone was adamant about how taking any interview would be a good experience and it would better themselves as a future applicant for schools. So now I feel even more behind on life. I feel like my "peers" are going to look down on me or something...that's kind of an awful feeling. You want yourself, your ideas and your work to have merit and be respected. I have felt first hand recently what it's like to be taken for granted and not have that happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this moment I just feel really alone and lost. It was great living here for the last 4 years, but I don't think I could stay here any longer. I don't have anyone or anything really to go home to in NJ. I don't have anyone to move somewhere with, as much as I wish for that. Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish someone was here right now to sit down with me and talk about any and all of this stuff. Someone to just listen to all of my random ideas and be supportive of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I need to believe in myself, and while this entry more than likely contradicts that, I do believe in myself. But I can't help but wish that I had someone who believed in me too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2133346955346570882?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2133346955346570882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2133346955346570882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2133346955346570882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2133346955346570882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/let-go-of-my-pain-to-hell-with-my-pride.html' title='Let go of my pain, to hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1424412462105781026</id><published>2010-03-19T19:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T19:32:30.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I could slip and fall with no one to catch me at all</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's really nice out today. It's supposed to be a beautiful weekend. Where will I be? Alone in my apartment trying desperately to get work done. I wish I had someone to go outside with to do work this weekend. I wish I had someone to spend time with at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These last 2 weeks in particular have been really hard for me. I think I've cried every day the last 2 weeks. One thing after another has seemed to go wrong student teaching. Just when I think I finally got through one thing, another piles on. It's like I can't do much right at all, and it's slowly killing me because I'm trying so hard and it just seems like it's not enough. Like I'm not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gotten so hard to just make it through another day. At least that's how it seems right now. I need to make it to April 23rd so bad, but right now I honestly have no idea how I'm ever going to make it to then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need like 2 or more days in a row to go well. I need someone to hang out with to make my mind off stuff because all I have at the moment is to come back to my apartment, try and get through doing work and be reminded of what didn't go well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-1424412462105781026?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1424412462105781026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1424412462105781026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1424412462105781026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1424412462105781026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-could-slip-and-fall-with-no-one-to.html' title='I could slip and fall with no one to catch me at all'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5422400845515894141</id><published>2010-03-09T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T22:31:05.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good happens...just wait and see</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A year ago, I was on spring break, in what has become my favorite place. Wilmington, North Carolina. I sat at a table amongst a couple hundred strangers in the middle of an opportunity I never would have thought I would have in my life time.  Extraing for One Tree Hill. There, I met a girl who has become my best friend. Holly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had so much fun becoming acquainted with the artsy town. It is beautiful and comfortable and more than I thought it would be. I really love it there. And I owe that town, the opportunity from OTH and Hilarie Burton, so much for meeting Holly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'd do without Holly. There have been a lot of ups and downs over the last year, but either way, I know my life is better with her in it now. I can't wait for this summer and all the stuff we're going to do. I have no idea what my life is going to be like another year from now, which scares me, but I know that Holly will be there for me with whatever happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5422400845515894141?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5422400845515894141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5422400845515894141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5422400845515894141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5422400845515894141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/03/good-happensjust-wait-and-see.html' title='Good happens...just wait and see'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6788866387131100141</id><published>2010-02-09T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T23:29:40.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel the shake, shake, steady of the soul to a flame</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/S3IFXHYxNsI/AAAAAAAAAPA/5sG4xSmMa4s/s1600-h/Everyday+America.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/S3IFXHYxNsI/AAAAAAAAAPA/5sG4xSmMa4s/s320/Everyday+America.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436413594867676866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;I'm going to attempt to post my example illustration for Everday America because I'm really proud of how it turned out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;Today I taught writing and I introduced my 5th graders to their next topic. It's what is your favorite singer? I'm having them talk about how long they've liked them, how they discovered them, what's their favorite song by that artist and why, and why the artist is their favorite. To go along with them picking their favorite song, I'm going to have each of them print out the lyrics and then illustrate the song to go with it and we're going to display them all on the wall. I was so excited about this topic and was hopeful that they'd be excited too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;I started out by playing a song from my Live on the Inside DVD and chose Everyday America since that was the one I chose as my favorite song to give an example as if I were doing the assignment too. As soon as it started a bunch of the kids were like OMG! It was really cool. They were all watching the screen and I was glad to see them all paying attention...although you can't not pay attention to Jenn and Kristian lol After I stopped it halfway through, I asked if anyone knew who that was. Half the class's hands shot up and I told them to call it out together. They were like SUGARLAND! And then Isabella and Mason started singing Joey haha I loved it. The more I described the assignment, the more excited some of them got. I think I overwhelmed them a little at first explaining the lyrics and illustration part but after I answered some questions I think they felt better about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabella's writing about Reba, and she and I started singing Strange when she told me her choice. Martha, Rachel and Leah are doing Carrie, but then Marth and I started singing Consider Me Gone haha Alicia, Elizabeth and Taylor are doing Taylor,and again we had a sing along. Stephanie's doing that new girl who I've seen on GAC/CMT Laura Bell Bundy. Payton's doing Kelly which I was thrilled about haha When she was picking her favorite song, she was picking stuff off All I Ever Wanted, which I was impressed with. She was explaining what the songs were to me and how they were off her newest album and she was so into telling me like I didn't know that I just couldn't correct her haha I did tell her though that I knew all the words too and she smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason's doing Lady Gaga. Garrett's doing Alabama. Braden's doing Kansas. Colton's doing Elvis. Nathan's doing Nickelback. Tim's doing Third Day, which I thought was really cool. Kross is doing Hollywood Undead. Connor's doing Keith and I definitely gushed over that one. Of course when he asked me for titles of his songs because he couldn't remember the name of his favorite I completely blanked and wished I'd had my iPod in my purse. Jared's doing Rodney Atkins. Naomi's doing Justin Bieber. Perry's writing about his favorite video game because he doesn't really watch TV/listen to music on his farm and McKinley and Josh are doing authors because they don't listen to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time we work on these I might sneak on some more Sugarland. I was seriously excited that over half my class knew who they were and were excited about it. Not to mention they knew the words to the songs. The rest of my day wasn't the greatest, but I had a lot of fun with that and I hope that if/when I get a real job I can continue to incorporate Sugarland, Kelly, Little Big Town, etc :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6788866387131100141?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6788866387131100141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6788866387131100141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6788866387131100141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6788866387131100141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/02/feel-shake-shake-steady-of-soul-to.html' title='Feel the shake, shake, steady of the soul to a flame'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/S3IFXHYxNsI/AAAAAAAAAPA/5sG4xSmMa4s/s72-c/Everyday+America.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1099501740814204950</id><published>2010-02-07T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T21:43:47.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She grew up good, she grew up slow, like American Honey</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;div style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);" class="post-body entry-content"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;1. How many piercing's do you have?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 in each ear. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. I love the sound of.....?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little cousins' laughter, or Sugarland/Little Big Town/Kelly Clarkson/Sarah Buxton live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Favorite city?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wilmington, North Carolina for sure. With Nashville, Tennessee a close second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Colts, Saints, or couldn't care less?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saints in memory of my Uncle Chris&lt;3&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;5. Frozen yogurt or ice cream?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll take either, but Cookies 'N Cream, Moose Tracks and Birthday Cake Remix (Coldstone) are my 3 favorite ice cream flavors :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Favorite appetizer?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mozzerella Sticks...always has been, always will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. What item in your closet currently makes you the happiest?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm Either my Common Thread shirt or the peasant sundress I got in Wilmington last year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.Favorite facial moisturizer?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it bad if I say I don't use one regularly? &lt;---That'd be me lol So I say no it's not bad ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-1099501740814204950?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1099501740814204950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1099501740814204950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1099501740814204950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1099501740814204950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/02/she-grew-up-good-she-grew-up-slow-like.html' title='She grew up good, she grew up slow, like American Honey'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8069725371550590660</id><published>2010-02-07T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T21:40:29.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you ever hear this song I hope you know it's for you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;I'm stealing this idea from Jill &amp;amp; Kate's (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" href="http://jillandkate.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://jillandkate.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;) blog via Holly's blog :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;WHEN I'M...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m SAD I…put on a certain iTunes playlist, listen on repeat and write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m HAPPY I…am probably listening to music/talking to someone I love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m HUNGRY I…look for a snack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m TIRED I…go to sleep, or try to find caffeine if I can't go to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m HOMESICK I…listen to songs like Small Town Jericho by Sugarland, or Place to Land by Little Big Town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m GIGGLY I…laugh for a long time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m MAD I…get quiet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When I’m SCARED I…hold it in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8069725371550590660?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8069725371550590660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8069725371550590660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8069725371550590660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8069725371550590660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/02/if-you-ever-hear-this-song-i-hope-you.html' title='If you ever hear this song I hope you know it&apos;s for you'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6103458350107661243</id><published>2010-01-17T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T00:28:46.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You're beautiful inside and you're beautiful to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So today Hilarie Burton posted a new  blog on www.sogopro.com (Seriously, the 3 of you who follow this and haven't checked it out, need to, it's so much fun and so awesome) Anyway, she blogged about her best friends and how she doesn't believe in only having 1 best friend because every friend should be "the best" because otherwise, what's the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her post really made me stop and think about all the friends I have had in my life. I've never had just 1 core group of friends. I have always seemed to float in the middle between already established groups, who already had the best friends etched out since birth, it seemed. Even now, still, in college, I have felt more like a placeholder than someone's best friend candidate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always longed to and been wary of using the words best friend to describe someone, for fear of scaring them away somehow. Because one thing or another inevitably happens. I used to (and I'll admit, sometimes still do) think that it must have been something I did wrong, that I loved too much, and I'm the reason the friendship fell apart. Despite everything, all the friends I have had, and the ones I do have now mean a lot to me. I'll still hold onto them for as short as I knew them or long as I know them. But now I'm beginning to believe that maybe the ones that hurt me just weren't the people God wanted me to truly label as my best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although they may not even know it, I'm going to go out on a limb and mention 2 people who I consider my best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Hannah 2 years ago in Nashville during CMA Fest. Our shared love of Sugarland brought us together briefly that summer and propelled us into wild adventures that before meeting Hannah, I'm not sure I ever would have anticipated in my life. She is a beautifully spirited, dedicated girl who loves fun and laughter and music and people and especially all at one time. She is not afraid to dream and let people know it. I think Hannah is courageous, smart and hard working. She believed in me when almost no one else did, and I'm not sure if she knows how much that meant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really regret that school has kept me so busy because I feel like I haven't really talked to Hannah in awhile. I really miss her. I have no idea really when I'll see her again, though I'm hopeful for this summer somehow.  If you ever see this, Hannah, I miss you girly. Thank you for everything, especially for being there for some of my best memories. I really hope we make some more again soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other person I thought of right away was Holly...who I actually owe Hilarie for meeting. When I convinced my parents to take me to Wilmington last March for spring break, I simply wanted to see the beautiful town where my favorite TV show filmed. I never bargained for being able to extra and meeting someone who has become my best friend. Besides the fact that I love Hilarie and hope to meet her some day, I hope to meet her to say thank you for essentially bringing me Holly. Holly is also a beautifully spirited girl, full of kindness. She is funny, patient, loving, supportive, and generous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our endless conversations are full of everything, and nothing, and that's what makes them special. Our shared love of the arts and books always leads us on random tangents usually including favorite quotes or videos. Those chats are what got me through my last 2 semesters and I know they're what's going to get me through this last one. We are both in a point in our lives where change is lurking, and I hope that change brings us closer together geographically. But I know that either way, Holly will be there for me. We often joke that we have the same brain because we'll say the same exact thing at the same exact time and it is just really special to have that connection with someone. I haven't even technically known her a year, but I can't imagine not knowing her now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6103458350107661243?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6103458350107661243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6103458350107661243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6103458350107661243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6103458350107661243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/01/youre-beautiful-inside-and-youre.html' title='You&apos;re beautiful inside and you&apos;re beautiful to me'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8316703524716059896</id><published>2010-01-05T12:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T22:54:03.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish I wasn't always running on empty...I wish you could hear yourself, I wish you could hear me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;I start my last semester of college in less than a week. I'm terrified. And I wish it was because the last four years were so amazing and I don't want to leave campus and the people I've become so incredibly close to. But that's not the reason. There's not even one specific reason really, it's a combination of a bunch of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid that maybe my supervisor from last semester was right and I'm not cut out for this. I'm afraid because if that turns out to be true, I have no clue what I could possibly do with the rest of my life. I'm scared of not finding a job. I'm scared of having to sacrifice going where I think I could truly be happy because I don't find a job, or I do find one but it's in PA or NJ.  I'm afraid that my loneliness over the last 4 years at school will culminate in me truly being alone. I'm afraid of not being enough (to take a line from OTH). Because I feel like I haven't been enough in a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to curl up and cry. But I won't because I'm in Wilmington right now and I have to go back home tomorrow to all this mess. So I'm going to try to hold on a little tighter to this place, the fun, and the laughter I've had with Holly these last couple days while I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8316703524716059896?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8316703524716059896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8316703524716059896' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8316703524716059896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8316703524716059896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-wish-i-wasnt-always-running-on-emptyi.html' title='I wish I wasn&apos;t always running on empty...I wish you could hear yourself, I wish you could hear me'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1826020932432507847</id><published>2009-12-26T23:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T23:32:21.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I don't have the energy to prove everybody wrong</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So yesterday was not one of my better Christmases. It started out pretty good and I had fun at my aunt and uncle's house with my 2 cousins. But I was sitting at their kitchen table trying to eat dessert and I looked down at my hands, and they were blue. Like dark blue. Thinking about it still freaks me out. Completely confused, my mom told me to go run my hands under hot water in the bathroom. A minute into that I felt dizzy, my ears started ringing and it was hard to hear, and I almost passed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I made my first trip to the hospital last night. 4 hours later, they told me I had some long name problem with my blood because I ingested too many nitrates somehow. The nitrates attached to my red blood cells, keeping the oxygen from being able to do that. Apparently this is extremely rare and the doctor said she'd only seen 1 other person with the same problem in 18 years. I was really scared the whole time I was there, and am glad it wasn't anything more serious. My hands are almost back to their normal color, though I still feel drained/exhausted. My one wrist is bruised too from where they stuck this really long needle in near my pulse...except the nurse couldn't find whatever it is she needed and spent like 5 minutes moving the needle around INSIDE my skin and I could feel it sticking in my vein and it hurt so bad. I've ever had a problem with needles/blood work when they do it normally in the crook of your arm. But I was in tears while the nurse was doing that, as hard as I tried not to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to fit in more doctor's appointments this coming week along with all the other doctor's appointments I already have, and all the studying I have to do. The anxiety is starting to creep back up and I'm beginning to dread the start of the semester again. I'm so afraid I'm going to forget to do something in terms of submitting all the paperwork etc I need to be able to graduate.I really hope I make it through until April 23rdish when I'm done teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-1826020932432507847?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1826020932432507847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1826020932432507847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1826020932432507847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1826020932432507847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2009/12/sometimes-i-dont-have-energy-to-prove.html' title='Sometimes I don&apos;t have the energy to prove everybody wrong'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5909591129547917691</id><published>2009-12-22T17:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T18:21:56.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The girl behind the curtain hides so you can't see her hurting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I got the weight lecture once again from my mother. It's just a battle I'm never going to win. I lose weight, and that triggers her obsession over my weight, suddenly so proud of me and fawning in my smaller size and constantly pushing for more. I gain some of that weight back and it pushes the other half of her obsession for me to lose weight in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this? Because of some deficiency or another within myself melded together in my DNA in my conception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother told me if I was smart enough to be on the Dean's List every semester and get a 4.0 this semester, I was smart enough to figure out how to lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mother, if only you knew. You know why I lost all that weight last year before this past summer? It's because I basically stopped eating. I'm never hungry anymore, but would force myself to eat one "meal" a day. It's not hard to do when you live alone in an apartment building, go to class, or in this semester's case, teaching, and don't have any friends to spend time with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knows about that. No one knows about the crippling fear in my heart over the fact that I may never be able to have children. I honestly don't know definitely or not and I'm absolutely terrified to find out. Not that it would be an "issue" anyway if I never have a boyfriend to become a husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish someone cared about my feelings and not just viewed them as casual, irrational thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5909591129547917691?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5909591129547917691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5909591129547917691' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5909591129547917691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5909591129547917691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2009/12/girl-behind-curtain-hides-so-you-cant.html' title='The girl behind the curtain hides so you can&apos;t see her hurting'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7319450317131172038</id><published>2009-06-22T22:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:30:06.917-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's like I love this pain</title><content type='html'>Oh Lady A, how you've perfectly written my life into another one of your songs&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love This Pain"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's no good for me&lt;br /&gt;I know that she's a wild flower&lt;br /&gt;She's got a restlessness&lt;br /&gt;A beautifulness&lt;br /&gt;A faith about her&lt;br /&gt;There I am again calling her back&lt;br /&gt;Letting her drive me crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;It's like I love this pain&lt;br /&gt;A little too much&lt;br /&gt;Love my heart all busted up&lt;br /&gt;Something about her&lt;br /&gt;It just don't work&lt;br /&gt;But I can't walk away&lt;br /&gt;It's like I love this pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just an on again&lt;br /&gt;And off again situation&lt;br /&gt;Just a striking match&lt;br /&gt;A tank of gas&lt;br /&gt;A combination&lt;br /&gt;Well there I am again&lt;br /&gt;Lighting it up&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that she'll just burn me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I love this life&lt;br /&gt;When nothing's right&lt;br /&gt;But something's wrong&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm just not me&lt;br /&gt;If I can't be&lt;br /&gt;A sad, sad song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7319450317131172038?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7319450317131172038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7319450317131172038' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7319450317131172038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7319450317131172038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-like-i-love-this-pain.html' title='It&apos;s like I love this pain'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4895016688427280324</id><published>2009-05-31T17:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T17:40:24.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little heartbreak I thought I could handle...it's gonna take a few more tears to let go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Today is the day. The day I realized that I might actually be alone for the rest of my life. Sure, this thought has crossed my mind a few times before. But I've always tried to store it away. Tried to make myself feel better by telling myself that surely things would get better. After all these years, it had to eventually right? Wrong. In some ways I think it might be worse. Before, I felt like I had a second chance coming. One I was so sure would magically make everything better. But now, I don't know where to go from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew what it was about me that makes everyone prefer to forget about me. What it is I'm missing that would make them care. Other people have told me it's not anything I could've done; it's the other person's loss. But really? How can so many people make the same 'mistake'? How can so many people treat me the same exact way if it's not something I've done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My semester was AWFUL. The worst semester I've had to date. But through all of it there were all these exciting plans ahead for the summer that kept me going and got me through it. Now that summer is here, nothing has gone like I thought it would. Going on a mini road trip to see Kate Voegele with 2 friends from school turned into me being a 3rd wheel/practically invisible and essentially watching Kate Voegele alone. The Sugarland/Keith Urban concert where I was supposed to meet Sugarland turned into Sugarland not performing because Jenn was sick, no m&amp;amp;g, and again, essentially watching Keith Urban alone. A relaxing time catching up with people on the SLFC turned into the most hurtful words I've ever read in my life, and the feeling that I'm no longer welcome there, all because of an enormous misunderstanding. The Kenny Chesney stadium concert in June for Sugarland where my m&amp;amp;g was supposed to get transferred to, and I was going to see Megg over the summer for the first time in the 3 years I've known her, turned into again no m&amp;amp;g and now no Megg either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my hope and excitement for months. I swore this was finally going to be the time where I got through to her, got her to understand how much it meant for her to do something with me. How excited I was for her to go to the show with me and especially see Sugarland today. Instead, I get a text message a few weeks ago saying she might have to work and/or leave early, though she got this job months after she'd promised me she would come. And then another really long text message early on a Sunday morning full of empty apologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I JUST want a friend. Someone to laugh with. Someone to cry with. Someone to be spontaneous with. Someone to shop with. Someone to go to concerts with. Someone to talk with. Someone to listen to. Someone to listen to me. Someone to hug. Someone to hug me. Someone to love. Someone to love me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so pathetically worthless right now because all I want to do is lie in my bed and cry. As much as I know that being upset about this and I guess feeling sorry for myself, isn't doing me any good, it just all hurts too much right now. It hurts to think that there's something so wrong with me that I can't keep a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Megg was all those things, or at least, I thought she could be all those things. There are other people I thought was all those things too. If only they were here. If only I had the courage to tell them that. But I'm too afraid. Afraid that if I say too much, they'll disappear too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4895016688427280324?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4895016688427280324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4895016688427280324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4895016688427280324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4895016688427280324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-little-heartbreak-i-thought-i.html' title='Just a little heartbreak I thought I could handle...it&apos;s gonna take a few more tears to let go'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5099939016289815432</id><published>2009-04-09T13:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T13:49:33.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess it'll just go to waste like dead flowers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;I just love this song. Totally my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dead Flowers" by Miranda Lambert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="postbody"&gt;I feel like the flowers in this vase&lt;br /&gt;He just brought them home one day, “ain’t they beautiful” he said&lt;br /&gt;They’ve been here in the kitchen and the water’s turning grey&lt;br /&gt;They’re sitting in the vase but now they’re dead&lt;br /&gt;Dead flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like this long string of lights&lt;br /&gt;They lit up our whole house on Christmas Day&lt;br /&gt;But now it’s January and the bulbs have all burned out&lt;br /&gt;But still they hang&lt;br /&gt;Like dead flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ain’t feeling anything&lt;br /&gt;My love, my hurt, or the sting of this rain&lt;br /&gt;And I’m living in a hurricane&lt;br /&gt;All he can say is “man ain’t it such a nice day”&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like the tires on this car&lt;br /&gt;You said they won’t go far but we’re still rolling&lt;br /&gt;I look in the rear view and I see dead flowers in the yard and that string of lights &lt;br /&gt;And it ain’t glowing like dead flowers&lt;br /&gt;Like dead flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ain’t feeling anything&lt;br /&gt;My love, my hurt, or the sting of this rain&lt;br /&gt;I’m driving through a hurricane&lt;br /&gt;All he can say is “man ain’t it such a nice day”&lt;br /&gt;Hey I guess it’ll just go to waste&lt;br /&gt;Like dead flowers&lt;br /&gt;Like dead flowers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5099939016289815432?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5099939016289815432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5099939016289815432' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5099939016289815432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5099939016289815432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-guess-itll-just-go-to-waste-like-dead.html' title='I guess it&apos;ll just go to waste like dead flowers'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-3938044527547203999</id><published>2008-10-09T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T22:08:24.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You tried to explain but I couldn't hear it as if your words were my tears</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"I don't know how it happened, how I don't have anyone. But I don't have anyone." --Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-3938044527547203999?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/3938044527547203999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=3938044527547203999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/3938044527547203999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/3938044527547203999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/10/tried-to-explain-but-i-couldnt-hear-it.html' title='You tried to explain but I couldn&apos;t hear it as if your words were my tears'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7541796471535558222</id><published>2008-09-23T19:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:10:52.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When your faith is stretched so thin that you can see straight through your soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What do you do when your dream comes true? The dream that you thought about every day, the dream you always prayed about, the dream you were convinced would never come true because something that special, something that beautiful couldn't possibly happen to you. The dream you took solace in dreaming anyway.  The dream that others knew about, but at the same time, didn't know  about just how deep that dream went within you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night mine came true. I finally met Kristian Bush and Jennifer Nettles of Sugarland. It was probably the most amazing minute of my life, which I'm sure sounds so strange and probably funny to most people. But to me, in that one minute that I was right there talking to them, my dream was right there, it was right in front of me. And I'll forever have those memories and the picture with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 3 days later and I haven't stopped thinking about it all. And I keep trying to push aside this empty feeling that is absorbing my head and my heart. But it's there, I know it is. I want to go back to Saturday because it was finally a day I didn't have to worry. I didn't have to worry about getting to class on time. I didn't have to worry about paying attention in class.  I didn't have to worry about what assignments I had due. I didn't have to worry about questioning myself as to whether or not I could handle everything and get it done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn't have to worry about my family not having enough money. I didn't have to worry about not getting a job when I graduate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn't have to worry about being  alone in my apartment and how lonely I feel here in general. I didn't have to worry about not really having any friends here at school. I  didn't have to worry about how once again I don't have the best friend I thought I finally had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I did have was some old friends and some newer ones. I did have music. And I did have Jennifer, Kristian and my dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now all those things are gone except for the music. So now what do I do? Is it selfish for me to want to have all that again? Is it wrong of me to want to meet Sugarland again and be able to spend another minute talking to them, especially when there are so many other people who haven't been able to experience what I just experienced? I think right now besides emptiness I feel guilt. I feel so guilty for wanting to meet them again more than anything. I feel awful that I can't just be satisfied with the amazing gift God literally gave me the other night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess for now I just let the tears fall as I wrestle with that confliction, while at the same time, holding onto the newest portion of my dream with both hands and whole heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7541796471535558222?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7541796471535558222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7541796471535558222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7541796471535558222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7541796471535558222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-weight-of-world-bears-down-so.html' title='When your faith is stretched so thin that you can see straight through your soul'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6238232835420301116</id><published>2008-08-01T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T00:37:29.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah I'll look like I'm ok</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;"They Say" by Danielle Peck&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say they saw me in a coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;With a few old friends and we laughed it out&lt;br /&gt;Looked as happy as can be, yeah&lt;br /&gt;They say they saw me in a movie line&lt;br /&gt;With a dark haired stranger's hand in mine&lt;br /&gt;At the Sunday matinée&lt;br /&gt;They say the next time that you see me&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna look like nothing happened&lt;br /&gt;Like you never walked away&lt;br /&gt;But don't believe half of what you see&lt;br /&gt;Or anything they say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say I've made some reservations&lt;br /&gt;For a tropical vacation&lt;br /&gt;The last week of July, yeah&lt;br /&gt;They say I'm looking so much better now&lt;br /&gt;I've put the pieces back together now&lt;br /&gt;And there's a sparkle in my eye&lt;br /&gt;One day we'll run into each other&lt;br /&gt;And smile at one another&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'll look like I'm ok&lt;br /&gt;But don't believe half of what you see&lt;br /&gt;Or anything they say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They don't understand&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing everything I can&lt;br /&gt;Just to live just to breathe&lt;br /&gt;Just to feel my heart beat&lt;br /&gt;Without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say the new me would surprise you&lt;br /&gt;I'm over all the heartache&lt;br /&gt;And there's a smile on my face&lt;br /&gt;But don't believe half of what you see&lt;br /&gt;Or anything they say&lt;br /&gt;No don't believe half of what you see&lt;br /&gt;Or anything they say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6238232835420301116?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6238232835420301116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6238232835420301116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6238232835420301116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6238232835420301116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/07/yeah-ill-look-like-im-ok.html' title='Yeah I&apos;ll look like I&apos;m ok'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8715318275996296440</id><published>2008-07-19T22:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T22:39:57.483-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought that I'd moved on, how wrong...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Can't Stop the Rain" by Danielle Peck&lt;33&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late at night&lt;br /&gt;I lie awake&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Try  not to think&lt;br /&gt;I built these walls so high&lt;br /&gt;So strong, I thought I was safe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It come on a day&lt;br /&gt;When the sun shining down&lt;br /&gt;Hits you like thunder&lt;br /&gt;When no one's around&lt;br /&gt;It can break you&lt;br /&gt;Shake you up inside&lt;br /&gt;You can run from the storm&lt;br /&gt;Though it's not far behind&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that you're not&lt;br /&gt;Really dieing inside&lt;br /&gt;Try as you may&lt;br /&gt;When your heart&lt;br /&gt;Just can't handle the pain&lt;br /&gt;You can't stop the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to believe&lt;br /&gt;A heart has a way&lt;br /&gt;Of holding on&lt;br /&gt;To yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Thought that I'd moved on&lt;br /&gt;How wrong cause&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;Tears falling down my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;It come on a day&lt;br /&gt;When the sun shining down&lt;br /&gt;Hits you like thunder&lt;br /&gt;When no one's around&lt;br /&gt;It can break you&lt;br /&gt;Shake you up inside&lt;br /&gt;You can run from the storm&lt;br /&gt;Though it's not far behind&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that you're not&lt;br /&gt;Really dieing inside&lt;br /&gt;Try as you may&lt;br /&gt;When your heart&lt;br /&gt;Just can't handle the pain&lt;br /&gt;You can't stop the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; You can run from the storm&lt;br /&gt;Though it's not far behind&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that you're not&lt;br /&gt;Really dieing inside&lt;br /&gt;But try as you may&lt;br /&gt;Try as you may&lt;br /&gt;When your heart&lt;br /&gt;Just can't handle the pain&lt;br /&gt;You can't stop the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8715318275996296440?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8715318275996296440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8715318275996296440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8715318275996296440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8715318275996296440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/07/thought-that-id-moved-on-how-wrong.html' title='Thought that I&apos;d moved on, how wrong...'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5230627058641075469</id><published>2008-07-03T11:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T12:20:12.709-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Already Gone</title><content type='html'>I LOVE SUGARLAND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mama mapped out&lt;br /&gt;The road that she knows&lt;br /&gt;Which hands you shake&lt;br /&gt;And which hands you hold&lt;br /&gt;In my hand me down Mercury&lt;br /&gt;Ready to roll&lt;br /&gt;She knew that I had to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hang out&lt;br /&gt;Make lots of noise&lt;br /&gt;And lay out&lt;br /&gt;Late with a boy&lt;br /&gt;Make the mistakes that she made&lt;br /&gt;Cause she knew all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;Life is a runaway train&lt;br /&gt;You can't wait to jump on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say the first time&lt;br /&gt;Won't ever last&lt;br /&gt;But that didn't stop me&lt;br /&gt;The first time he laughed&lt;br /&gt;All my friends tried to warn me&lt;br /&gt;The day that we met&lt;br /&gt;Girl don't you lose your heart yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh his dark eyes&lt;br /&gt;Dared me with danger&lt;br /&gt;And sparks fly like&lt;br /&gt;Flame to a paper&lt;br /&gt;Lighting his touch&lt;br /&gt;Burning me up&lt;br /&gt;But still I held on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;Life is a runaway train&lt;br /&gt;You can't wait to jump on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last time I saw him&lt;br /&gt;I packed up my things&lt;br /&gt;And he smiled like the first time&lt;br /&gt;He told me his name&lt;br /&gt;And we cried with other&lt;br /&gt;We split the blame&lt;br /&gt;For the moments we couldn't change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures, dishes and socks&lt;br /&gt;It's our whole life&lt;br /&gt;Down to one box&lt;br /&gt;There he was waving goodbye&lt;br /&gt;On the front porch alone&lt;br /&gt;And I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;I was already gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang out&lt;br /&gt;Make lots of noise&lt;br /&gt;And lay out late with a boy&lt;br /&gt;Make the mistakes that she made&lt;br /&gt;Life is a run away train&lt;br /&gt;Dark eyes led me with danger&lt;br /&gt;And sparks fly like&lt;br /&gt;Flame to a paper&lt;br /&gt;Lighting his touch&lt;br /&gt;Life is a run away train&lt;br /&gt;You can't wait to jump on&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5230627058641075469?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5230627058641075469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5230627058641075469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5230627058641075469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5230627058641075469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/07/already-gone.html' title='Already Gone'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4613838824663837292</id><published>2008-06-30T00:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T00:27:00.869-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me down slow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Finding My Own Way by JillandKate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can hear my heart pound&lt;br /&gt;Like there's never been another sound&lt;br /&gt;In this whole wide world around&lt;br /&gt;And I'm the only one now&lt;br /&gt;And I can feel my bones shake&lt;br /&gt;Like my body had an earth quake&lt;br /&gt;And the walls are all about to cave&lt;br /&gt;Oh it's about to go down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's a move I'm afraid to make it&lt;br /&gt;If there's a claim I'm afraid to stake it&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have all the answers yet&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure afraid to fake it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Let me down slow&lt;br /&gt;So let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Let me down slow&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to hit the bottom oh&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to find their own way&lt;br /&gt;To go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can feel these words creep out&lt;br /&gt;Like I never had a chance to speak out&lt;br /&gt;They come so fast I can hardly breath&lt;br /&gt;But I can hardly breathe now&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be alone now&lt;br /&gt;I feel so far from home now&lt;br /&gt;And there's a game I don't want to watch&lt;br /&gt;Play out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;If there's a move I'm afraid to make it&lt;br /&gt;If there's a claim I'm afraid to stake it&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have all the answers yet&lt;br /&gt;But I'm sure afraid to fake it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Let me down slow&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to hit the bottom oh&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to find their own way&lt;br /&gt;To go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Let me down slow&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to hit the bottom oh&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's got to find their own way&lt;br /&gt;To go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4613838824663837292?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4613838824663837292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4613838824663837292' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4613838824663837292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4613838824663837292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/06/let-me-down-slow.html' title='Let me down slow'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6039105450310082574</id><published>2008-06-27T00:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T00:31:17.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hide behind blue eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;"Remedy" by Sarah Buxton&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the master of disguise&lt;br /&gt;But I can see the pain that you hide&lt;br /&gt;Behind blue eyes&lt;br /&gt;You put on the bravest face&lt;br /&gt;You wear it with amazing grace&lt;br /&gt;But alone at night&lt;br /&gt;Do you cry&lt;br /&gt;Lay your head on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Let the healing start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your remedy&lt;br /&gt;When you're down&lt;br /&gt;You can come to me&lt;br /&gt;Love will set you free&lt;br /&gt;And take you higher&lt;br /&gt;Let me kiss away the pain&lt;br /&gt;Til you feel alive again&lt;br /&gt;Love will set you free&lt;br /&gt;And take you higher&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your remedy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything you've locked away&lt;br /&gt;Is beautiful&lt;br /&gt;And it's ok to let it out&lt;br /&gt;And let me in&lt;br /&gt;And I'm waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lay your head on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Let the healing start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your remedy&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your remedy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6039105450310082574?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6039105450310082574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6039105450310082574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6039105450310082574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6039105450310082574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/06/hide-behind-blue-eyes.html' title='Hide behind blue eyes'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2643143420354497055</id><published>2008-05-13T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T23:20:41.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's like I'm giving up slowly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I think this pretty much sums it up:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"All I wanted to do was collapse into somebody's arms and cry today, but nobody was there to catch me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2643143420354497055?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2643143420354497055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2643143420354497055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2643143420354497055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2643143420354497055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-think-this-pretty-much-sums-it-up-all.html' title='It&apos;s like I&apos;m giving up slowly'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-2578246416083056994</id><published>2008-04-25T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T19:10:22.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All the things I've felt and never shared</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I pretend that I don't care about being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I pretend that I think I won't end up alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I pretend I'm not scared to not be able to have children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that I'm not scared to not get married. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I pretend that I don't care about never seeing my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend it doesn't bother me that I probably won't meet some of my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that I have friends left at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that I have a ton of friends at school if anyone asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend I don't care all my friends have or have had boyfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I pretend I don't care I've never had a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend I don't care that I've never been kissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend everything's ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that I don't care about my weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I pretend that I know what my future will be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that people don't hurt my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that people breaking promises to me doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend never hearing I love you doesn't hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend I'm not taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I pretend that I don't think about all this stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-2578246416083056994?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2578246416083056994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=2578246416083056994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2578246416083056994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/2578246416083056994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-things-ive-felt-and-never-shared.html' title='All the things I&apos;ve felt and never shared'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4419868696735340961</id><published>2008-04-15T13:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T13:15:33.059-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody needs somebody sometimes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This weekend is Blue and White weekend. Friday night and Saturday morning is the carnival. I can't believe it's already a year later and I'm basically in the same position as this time last year. Alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go to the carnival so badly. I love that kind of thing, even though I'm 20 years old. But who is going to go with me? Jackie doesn't exist to anyone but her boyfriend, I'm not close with Sarah anymore, Anna doesn't like those type of things, and that leaves Megg. Last year she wouldn't go with me because she went with her boyfriend. Sure, I could go out on a limb and ask (more like beg) her to go with me, but I doubt it'd get me very far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still cuts me that I would have to beg someone to do something like this with me. For once I just wish someone would think about me and ask me if I wanted to go. Is that wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I could always go with my parents. Funny, right? All I've done my whole life is do stuff with my parents because I didn't have anyone else. I wonder what they think about having a daughter who is a loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4419868696735340961?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4419868696735340961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4419868696735340961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4419868696735340961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4419868696735340961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/04/everybody-needs-somebody-sometimes.html' title='Everybody needs somebody sometimes'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4446652456349688406</id><published>2008-02-28T19:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T20:20:14.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories they're following me like a shadow now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I know there's never been anything exceptional about me. Nothing sets me apart from everyone else. But I thought at least by now that being dependable, thoughtful, caring, friendly, patient, a good listener, funny, would count for something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;And it kills me because I know I'm no different than anybody else. But why is it ok for people to treat me like I'm a disposable object? Aren't I supposed to matter to someone by now? Shouldn't I have friends I go fun places with, stay up to all hours talking to, complain about too much homework and bad professors, be able to call and know that whatever it is I need, they'll do. Or maybe I've just been kidding myself my entire life and the effort I put into friendships is never going to be enough. I'm never going to be enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I know I blew it. If I had been more..insert anything really, here...I could've had some great friends. But it's too late for that now. I thought I was making friends. I thought that this time it would be different. I thought they would be there, and maybe, just maybe, I could forget about the past and make up for lost time, time they don't and will never know about. That didn't work out so well because once again I had to make a sacrifice, and that was myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;What I'm left with is on again off again formal conversations and nights I have to fill with school work I have no motivation to do anymore. Nights I cry for the time things were better than this, and for a time I feel like is never going to come. All I have is waiting for the time to pass when I become invisible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I feel like I'm losing my best friend. The worst part is she doesn't even know it and I'm not sure if she ever will. I wish I was courageous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4446652456349688406?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4446652456349688406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4446652456349688406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4446652456349688406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4446652456349688406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/02/memories-theyre-following-me-like.html' title='Memories they&apos;re following me like a shadow now'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-7531627547227387843</id><published>2008-01-07T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T23:10:38.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I close my eyes one more hopeless times and open them to find I'm still not dreaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;I've always had the uncanny ability to overhear things that I was never meant to hear in that moment, or ever. Most of the time I'm undiscovered but that wasn't the case tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overheard my aunt on the phone, which is nothing unusual. I swear my Aunt Anne knows everyone within the city of Albany and countless others throughout the rest of the country. I'd heard my name mentioned so I went over behind her as she finished up her conversation. She told the person on the other end she hoped that their appointment went well tomorrow. She hung up the phone and turned to find me there. My eyes must have been confused and curious because she came out and told me the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carolyn's cancer is back. My oldest cousin. I am so upset. That statement is way too simple to actually describe what I'm feeling, but it's the least painful to type I guess. This is the second time something like this has happened within the last 8 months. They'd finally cleared her in September. But now it's back. The last time I saw her was in August. I saw her a record 3 times this summer. Usually I would be able to say I'm 99.9% sure I'd be seeing her Memorial Day or Fourth of July of this year. Now? I'm not sure what to say or even think right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I have this overwhelming feeling to see her. To talk to her. To make sure she's ok. Let her know I want her to be ok. Though in my head it's more of a selfish need. I have this gnawing feeling to tell her how much I miss her, how much I wish there weren't 25 years between us and that we'd gotten to spend more time together, that I love her. Alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't. I tried to tell her I loved her once before I was leaving the lake. She wouldn't really look at me or hug me afterwards when I tried to say goodbye. I don't want to freak her out. That's the last thing she needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-7531627547227387843?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7531627547227387843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=7531627547227387843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7531627547227387843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/7531627547227387843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-close-my-eyes-one-more-hopeless-times.html' title='I close my eyes one more hopeless times and open them to find I&apos;m still not dreaming'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-4239044600460245984</id><published>2008-01-07T22:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T22:32:54.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I try my damnest to make my voice sound like a smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It's 2008 now. That's really hard to believe. I've always been one to think, but tonight it's really gotten the best of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer had already gotten James out of the door to my aunt's house and was calling after Madison who stood next to me at the top of the stairs. Madison's arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and as Jennifer kept calling her, she finally let go and went down the stairs, wedging herself between the door and the wall. The last thing she said was, "When will I see you again?" I told her, "Hopefully soon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 20 years old now and it still deflates me that the best answer I can give my little 8 year old second cousin, as well as myself every time they leave or I leave is "hopefully soon".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully soon never turns into anything concrete. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Hopefully turns into maybe which culminates into a form of no. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Soon becomes summers or years later if it receives a life at all. It's such a place holder...something to take up the space that would be so grossly obvious without its presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life in relation to my family is one big hopefully soon. Hopefully soon I'll see my family for more than 2-3 days a year. Hopefully soon I'll meet everyone's children, husbands or wives I've never met. Hopefully soon I'll have been to everyone's houses. Hopefully soon I'll have everyone's address, email and phone number. Hopefully soon I'll use any or all of those ways to talk to them. Hopefully soon I'll know who they are as people. Hopefully soon they'll know more about me than my name and that I'm in college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea if even one of these things is ever going to happen. And that just makes me so sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-4239044600460245984?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4239044600460245984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=4239044600460245984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4239044600460245984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/4239044600460245984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-try-my-damnest-to-make-my-voice-sound.html' title='I try my damnest to make my voice sound like a smile'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6078340747242588913</id><published>2007-10-28T02:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T02:10:03.432-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you there....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:comic sans ms;"&gt;I still get my hopes up every time, hoping that, just this once, you'll care. But you don't. You never do. And it crushes me every time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6078340747242588913?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6078340747242588913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6078340747242588913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6078340747242588913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6078340747242588913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/10/are-you-there.html' title='Are you there....'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1884056984347513885</id><published>2007-09-07T19:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T19:21:30.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I really meant to say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why is it so hard for you to remember me? Why don't you want to spend time with me? You're supposed to be my friend. You're the best friend I have, but I can't tell you that because it wouldn't mean a thing to you. I guess it doesn't say much for me either that you don't even want to go to a football game with me. I'm not sure who I was kidding when I thought you living in an apartment wasn't going to change anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts when you won't have lunch with me.  I feel left out when you go with everyone else to football games and pep rallys, when you know I go alone. I've become the master at hiding my tears when yet again you don't have time to remember to call me like you promised, but can spend time with other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could open my mouth and tell you this. I wish you could see what I see when I look in the mirror....defeated, confused, lonely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-1884056984347513885?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1884056984347513885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1884056984347513885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1884056984347513885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1884056984347513885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-i-really-meant-to-say.html' title='What I really meant to say'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5438515243710767719</id><published>2007-07-31T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T23:45:39.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As She Is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; She walks in circles through her life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Never knowing how or why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; This beaten path held her name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Her actions and words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Forever sincere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Though they lie meaningless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; To those meant to hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; She opens her mouth to scream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; But only a sob absorbs in the walls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Her joy and pain equally contained&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Hidden away among the pages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; The only acknowledger of truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; She feels as if her heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; As full as it is; is useless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Failed at every attempt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; To make them see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; She would do anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Anything at all to ensure their happiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; After all these years they still don't need her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Overstepped by others far superior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; She walks in circles through her life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Never knowing how or why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; this beaten path held her name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; The sole thing she ever wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Was for them to know how she feels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; Was for them to want her as she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5438515243710767719?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5438515243710767719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5438515243710767719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5438515243710767719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5438515243710767719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/07/as-she-is.html' title='As She Is'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-593918648202704660</id><published>2007-07-31T23:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T23:42:37.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Limited</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;!--EZCODE BOLD END--&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time passes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; People change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Some even stay the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; As their world moves on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Scraps of memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Are all that's left&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; She seems to remember&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; All others forget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Though it's all she has&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; The only thing she can offer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Since she's far misplaced from everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Hoping and praying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Wishing then dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Have only carried her so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Sadly now she knows their limits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Stretched them as far as they would go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-593918648202704660?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/593918648202704660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=593918648202704660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/593918648202704660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/593918648202704660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/07/limited.html' title='Limited'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-1376863463394878615</id><published>2007-07-05T01:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T01:50:06.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Apprehension</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She feels selfish in her state of worry&lt;br /&gt;Consumed by the perceived powerlessness&lt;br /&gt;She is not the one having to face it all&lt;br /&gt;Not the one with relentless strength&lt;br /&gt;Or unfeigned bravery&lt;br /&gt;Qualities merely talked about in reverent tones&lt;br /&gt;She finally takes the time to count&lt;br /&gt;Every word she’s left unsaid&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if time is finally running out&lt;br /&gt;After moving so slowly all these years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                      &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Where does that leave her&lt;br /&gt;But in constant confliction&lt;br /&gt;Does she swallow the feeling that always occurs&lt;br /&gt;When these thoughts concealed her mind&lt;br /&gt;Going forth with her painstakingly careful plan&lt;br /&gt;Does she keep it all at bay&lt;br /&gt;Desperate to avoid verbal communication&lt;br /&gt;Or anything that might give herself away&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that simply ends in awkward silence&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to cause her any more pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;She feels selfish in her state of worry&lt;br /&gt;Consumed by the perceived powerlessness&lt;br /&gt;All of this for 3 small words&lt;br /&gt;She wants so desperately to speak&lt;br /&gt;She wants her so desperately to finally hear&lt;br /&gt;Naively believing they will heal her&lt;br /&gt;Childishly wishing she could take her hand&lt;br /&gt;For everything to be as it should&lt;br /&gt;So she  slowly exhales a shaky breath&lt;br /&gt;As those words fall from her lips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-1376863463394878615?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1376863463394878615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=1376863463394878615' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1376863463394878615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/1376863463394878615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/07/apprehension.html' title='Apprehension'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-9127306131816131975</id><published>2007-07-03T21:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T21:36:57.209-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soft waves&lt;br /&gt;Break into the worn stone wall&lt;br /&gt;Sun kissed skin&lt;br /&gt;Emerges from the rocky depths&lt;br /&gt;Bare feet&lt;br /&gt;Trample from the grass onto the dock&lt;br /&gt;As fireworks&lt;br /&gt;Echo from the hills to light the sky&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pages crinkle&lt;br /&gt;As she flips through a People magazine&lt;br /&gt;Gravel scatters&lt;br /&gt;As they run along the vacant streets&lt;br /&gt;Children’s laughter&lt;br /&gt;Saunters through all open windows&lt;br /&gt;Sweet smells mixing&lt;br /&gt;As she stands behind the stove&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;People come and go&lt;br /&gt;As long as it is it’s never long enough&lt;br /&gt;Nuances discovered&lt;br /&gt;Simple things at times taken for granted&lt;br /&gt;A familiar scene&lt;br /&gt;Yet it always seems to be evolving&lt;br /&gt;Fresh memories&lt;br /&gt;Gloss over the ones that remained&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soft waves&lt;br /&gt;Break into the worn stone wall&lt;br /&gt;Sun-kissed skin&lt;br /&gt;Emerges from the rocky depths&lt;br /&gt;Bare feet&lt;br /&gt;Trample from the grass onto the dock&lt;br /&gt;As the sun&lt;br /&gt;Dips below the clouds&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lounge chairs&lt;br /&gt;Positioned strategically outside&lt;br /&gt;Camera in hand&lt;br /&gt;Anticipating the next Kodak moment&lt;br /&gt;Tools resonating&lt;br /&gt;While he works thoroughly in the garage&lt;br /&gt;Imaginative games&lt;br /&gt;Interspersed with wild stories&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;People seem to come and go&lt;br /&gt;Just when I want them to stay&lt;br /&gt;So these instances can linger&lt;br /&gt;Residing just a little longer within time&lt;br /&gt;Because all this&lt;br /&gt;Is what I wait year after year for&lt;br /&gt;This is my summer&lt;br /&gt;This is me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-9127306131816131975?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/9127306131816131975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=9127306131816131975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/9127306131816131975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/9127306131816131975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-summer.html' title='My Summer'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-98028472020396092</id><published>2007-05-27T21:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T21:20:55.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If you'll trust me, love me, let me, maybe....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Don't you hate situations that you know will never change but you desperately want and need them to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always be stuck in the middle....invisible to some but consumed by others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-98028472020396092?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/98028472020396092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=98028472020396092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/98028472020396092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/98028472020396092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/05/if-youll-trust-me-love-me-let-me-maybe.html' title='If you&apos;ll trust me, love me, let me, maybe....'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6284586369929831922</id><published>2007-05-17T22:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T22:15:57.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am just a blank sheet of paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am the embodiment of disappointment. What a feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just once, I want to find someone who values my happiness as much as I value theirs. Because sometimes I feel like I'm just there for no other reason than to take up space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6284586369929831922?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6284586369929831922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6284586369929831922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6284586369929831922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6284586369929831922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-am-just-blank-sheet-of-paper.html' title='I am just a blank sheet of paper'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-5001968133606585161</id><published>2007-05-15T00:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T00:23:33.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;Along the way&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember me&lt;br /&gt;On this island&lt;br /&gt;Smiling at you&lt;br /&gt;How I used to&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it won't be sad&lt;br /&gt;To think of what we had&lt;br /&gt;All unhappy ends&lt;br /&gt;Can be behind us then&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;Along the way&lt;br /&gt;You'll think of me&lt;br /&gt;And you'll be smiling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Patty Griffin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-5001968133606585161?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5001968133606585161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=5001968133606585161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5001968133606585161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/5001968133606585161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/05/just-thought.html' title='Just a thought'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-6935487877330848206</id><published>2007-05-08T22:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T22:27:59.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You promised the truth and you told lies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;I hate never being able to say what I really need to say to people. And I hate when the wrong people ask me to tell what's wrong when it has nothing to do with them and it's awkward. Especially when they hardly know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hang out. I ask to watch a movie. They kind of give me an answer, but then end up hanging out with other people. Other people ask them to do stuff and they do it right away, and I have to ask time and time again just to go downtown to get lunch. Which I know isn't going to happen after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't ask for much, but when I do it's not anything extravagant and certainly no more than other people. But somehow coming from me it's too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be studying right now but I can't even concentrate enough. This sucks. I need the last 3 days of my semester to get better :-/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-6935487877330848206?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6935487877330848206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=6935487877330848206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6935487877330848206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/6935487877330848206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/05/you-promised-truth-and-you-told-lies.html' title='You promised the truth and you told lies'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-896501504037820236</id><published>2007-04-30T23:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T23:35:41.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I could see all around me, everywhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was gorgeous here today. A little too windy for my taste, though. Megg and I attempted to go outside and lay out a bit and read etc but it was so freaking windy that it felt so much colder than it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's days like these that I wish would last. Days where I just laugh and laugh and smile for no reason. It feels like I've barely had any of those in a very long time. I miss them desperately. When I do have these kind of days I just feel so, I don't even know how to describe it. I guess I just feel safe. Because in that moment it's like I don't have any other responsibilities or issues. In those moment I have a friend and a purpose and it's just all good. And I don't mean that in the 'oh 'sall good' type of way. I mean it in everything that happens is truly good; laughter, real conversation, fun. If I could just string together days like these....things might actually be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I only have a few days left in the semester and although I am looking forward to a summer full of music and sleep and no roommate, I can't help but be nervous about what next year will bring. Yes my one friend will finally be my roommate but my one friend is graduating. My other 2 are going to be in their own apartment on the other side of town/campus. Right now they're 2 doors down the hall. I was in there watching the Bachelor because my roommate is disgusting. And even though I'm sitting in my room while my roommate is still being disgusting, I could go back down the hall to their room if I needed to. What about next year? Will I really see them half as much as we talk about? Will we still go to dinner sometimes, watch movies together, laugh together, talk about anything and everything? I don't want to have to start over like I tried to start over this year. It was a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been one of the hardest and worst (school) years of my life. Those special days have been too few and far between. I've cried too much and (really) smiled not nearly enough. I've hated myself and felt completely lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For right now, though, I'll remember today, hoping that before this semester is over there will be at least one more day like today spent being silly 19 year old college girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-896501504037820236?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/896501504037820236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=896501504037820236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/896501504037820236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/896501504037820236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/04/it-was-gorgeous-here-today.html' title='I could see all around me, everywhere'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-780507129645796620</id><published>2007-04-30T19:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T19:32:38.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Someday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,Sans Serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;We used to talk for hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Now it's not even one minute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;You used to tell me I'm special&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I used to believe it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;You used to cry with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;You used to make me laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;But that all went out the window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;When you took off down your own path&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;If I could hold onto one last thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;It woudl be the way you smiled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I wish I could remember what that looked like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;But it's been awhile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I miss those eyes that would light up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I miss the friend who would hold my hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I have to go this life alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I have to take a stand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;The ones you love are always the farthest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;And the farthest seems farther away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I will always love you no matter what&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: lucida grande; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Until I find you again someday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-780507129645796620?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/780507129645796620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=780507129645796620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/780507129645796620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/780507129645796620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/04/someday.html' title='Someday'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672814086577808406.post-8020141271619140844</id><published>2007-04-30T19:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T19:29:30.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyway</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,Sans Serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can feel you walk through me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Like I was never even there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I must be a ghost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Becuase you're so unaware&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Of my tears that trail behind you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm trying to hold on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Calling out your name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;But you push me away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Suddenly you're deaf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trying to block out what was left&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Painted freshly in your memory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;It hurts, can't you see?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Or should I slit my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;So you can watch it bleed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's already cracked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Almost shattered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not like you'd know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess I never mattered anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/672814086577808406-8020141271619140844?l=michelleisbliss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8020141271619140844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=672814086577808406&amp;postID=8020141271619140844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8020141271619140844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/672814086577808406/posts/default/8020141271619140844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michelleisbliss.blogspot.com/2007/04/anyway.html' title='Anyway'/><author><name>MichelleBell16</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804927180924305426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hr6J3Hr9C8U/Sa8DQn3uWpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3OhMBX_wbSo/S220/n9376329_52985493_1590.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
